The Thanksgiving Turkey

              Have you noticed that any reference to Thanksgiving brings up the topic of Turkey? Right after Halloween and up until Thanksgiving, turkey is a much talked about item. Turkeys for the turkey drive!  Which kind to buy? generic or butterball? how to cook it? Roast it or fry it? Where is the turkey platter?......But Thanksgiving afternoon, it is all about tryptophan and leftover recipes.  Suddenly, the much treasured bird has had its sauna treatment in our ovens.....and poof! All gone....or almost.

              The idea of cooking Turkey the American way was so intimidating the first year we were here, I bought a rotisserie chicken and stuck it in the middle of the table and called it a Turkey. My kindergartener son, insisted that the Turkey was way too small and kept asking me if I picked the right bird.  SILENCE.

                The next year I manned up and decided to buy myself a Turkey, a day before Thanksgiving.  There was no currying this baby up. None of my Indian cooking  savvy was going to come handy here.  So I relented and gave in....to the American way. Now, no one told me you have to thaw the Turkey for days before you cook it. So the thawing in my house happened in the locked bathroom, in the tub. Not cool because it took several months for my husband and I to erase the image of the huge 20 pound turkey bobbing in the water. Why 20 pounds you ask? I don't know. I saw one and picked it up.

                 To top it off, my husband ate the mashed potatoes, the gravy, the corn, the cranberry sauce and the green bean casserole. Not a bite of the tub thawed, well browned  and a bit burnt turkey. The kids did better. The following years, he has graduated to eating 2 bites of the bird bringing me to the realization of maybe this whole thing was more fun only until the bird actually made it into the oven. Not as much fun when it comes out. No fun when I had to struggle with stuffing the stuffing. No fun at all while it sits there all ready to eat and the family avoids it like a plague, year after year. Sometimes, you just have to stop fighting it. Then one year, my parents suggested we cook Turkey biriyani.

                   I have a feeling that this year, the turkey is going to be a no-show at my house. So as Facebook explodes with pictures of Turkey on Thanksgiving that everyone so happily posts, my family will possibly have a Turkey biriyani, made the Indian way! Who knows there might be a picture of it on fb later.

That feeling of dread

       A trip to India is way too long and way too expensive. There is a point to this, please be patient. I mention the trip because every time you want to take one, these 2 points suggest you rethink that thought. Even when you muster the courage to go thru' with the thought process, arithmetic for 4 people in the family floors you. Then you postpone the trip or the thought, if you may, for a later year.

        Through these years, I have heard of relatives getting married, babies being born, my parents' birthdays and wedding anniversaries roll by, or a death anniversary of a close relative and you heave a sigh and move on.  My worst have been Christmases. While we battle being by ourselves on Christmas in the US, we hear of family get-togethers back home. News of family dinners and gatherings in India leave me seething in jealousy or agony. Interestingly, here in the United States, Christmas dinners and gatherings ARE family events which naturally eliminates 'others' .

           On the contrary, it's not just the joyous occasions you miss out on,  a parent falling ill or stubbing a toe, a heart attack or a sudden death are moments when I wish we lived closer. Maybe a surprise visit would not be impossible if we lived in the same country. How do you justify visiting your parents every 2 or 3 years, losing the closeness or the comfort you once had in talking about everything with each other and laughing over silly stuff. It dawns on you that we have indeed become distant. We will never be the same again and one day they will be gone. My kids will remember the memories they made with their grandparents from the too far apart summer visits they have had. They will cherish that, I am sure, but could there have been more? One day 2 years ago,  we lost someone very special. A parent. Ironically we were the last ones to get there after 36 hours.

          One of my very close friends told me, "You live here by choice, so why do you make it look so miserable?" Oh, I wish she had chosen her words carefully. I sure reminded myself to choose my friends carefully. Yes, it was a choice and every choice has its consequence but how do you tell your heart that? How do you cut your emotions from your reality?  How do you calm that panic when you hear the phone ring in the odd hours of the night? Or how do you steady your heart those moments before you answer the phone wondering if everyone is alive? Or how do you deal with the tightness in your chest when you recognize the number is from India but it is not your parents'? Or try to understand why you are hearing someone else's voice and an alarm goes off that this is probably bad news! Those moments have been few and far in between, yet when it happens, it is a thunderbolt. Every time.