( continues...) whom the little gang calls Kinimini. And the various babies. Cute little babies!
Whenever we come to India, we come bearing gifts. And it's not like we bring gifts tailored to people or anything, my mom doesn't care about that sort of thing. Indian culture is all about appearance; it's better to give something than nothing. So we have nuts, toys, and clothing to distribute to the people of the village. Nishaben, Puppy, my mom and I hurried around Thursday morning like a Santa Claus brigade. I carried a large sack full of shirts and pistachios. I suppose they were happy to receive our American goods, as they couldn't get them.
That day, Ashabhabi's crew came and stole her away again, so we went to get her back. I had fun playing with Shivani, Ashabhabi's seven-year-old niece. Like Fanny, she was missing a tooth. We made faces at each other, and I chased her around and held her upside-down, which is another thing I do with little kids.
At night, we packed eight suitcases full of all the stuff we'd bought to take home. Ashabhabi had bought me and Kiran a little metal Buddha "for good luck." Aw.
Then, Friday morning, "this" morning, we were off to Mumbai. Which meant I got to see Vibutibhabi again. Last night, she'd called and asked me what saag I wanted to eat, and I named a few, including one, lal chori, that I hadn't had in a long time. I didn't expect her to make it, but she did! She made them all. We'd eaten on the way, but I had to have some lal chori.
This also meant I had to see fucking Vidhi again. The kid just looks evil. This is a five-year-old who tells her mom if she does that one more time, she's going to kill her. Who uses the familiar "you" with her elders. Who, when Jigna came back with a Cadbury bar for her, snatched the bag away without even knowing it was for her. It was a good thing Jigna had given Ashabhabi her chocolate-covered almonds outside. And finally, when I wanted to take a picture with just my three bhabis, she stepped in and would. Not. Leave. She got all pouty and crying, despite everyone in the room telling her to move. Mehulbhai understood that I have specific pictures in mine when I construct the photo album in my mind, so he made Dipakbhai understand. He did, and he moved in close, so the picture was only of our tops, leaving the little whiny brat out of it. Our Bitch List currently reads: 1. Mischa Barton. 2. The Fox executives who cancelled Firefly and Wonderfalls. 3. Hitler. 4. Vidhi.
We had a stupid driver, and we hit major traffic, so we were nearly an hour late getting to the airport. This led to a lot of rushed goodbyes, but Ashabhabi did sneak in (with Bhago and frickin' Vidhi) to make sure our luggage had gone through all right (as it turned out, our lateness led to less hassle about the weights of our luggage). So we got to give her a proper hug and goodbye.
And now we're about to land in Frankfurt. The India trip was pretty good. I got to know some family members better, both old and new. There's something about going to your homeland and reconnecting with your cultural roots. Wonder what things will be like next time.