Life at Lake Terrace

I’ve spoken all about my trips around India, and Lord Ganesh knows that I could talk about my girls at ABWU for eons. But I haven’t spoken much of my home stay – which is not a reflection of a poor or uninteresting time at the home of Mukta Sengupta.

Mukta, or as everyone so lovingly calls her, Mum Mum – is a widow, around 59 years old. Her husband was a famous Bengali actor, as is her son Dishu. He is Mommy’s little boy and comes over often though he is constantly traveling for films. He is currently filming four movies right now. His wife used to act before their daughter Sara was born. We call her Nini, which is granddaughter in Bangla. She’s two and has a little attitude!! But her eyes are too big and wide for you to get upset with her. We joke about a little saying she came up with: “Oh baa baa – ki thanda!” in a sing-song manner. Roughly translated it is: “Oy vey, how chilly!” Mum Mum also has a daughter, Raii. We call her RaiDidi, meaning elder sister. She is over often with her husband Andy, who is hilarious and a percussionist in a Bengali band. The other day, I was flustered because there was a mouse in the kitchen again. So I said that we needed to get rid of him, so randomly Andy says “Let’s build a cat!” Needless to say, the mouse is still there. His name is now Clause.

Mum Mum constantly reminds me of my Gram. And it is not only the speed at which she moves (or doesn’t move) that is nostalgic of my favourite grandmother – but her huge heart of gold. Mum Mum is so giving and understanding. She definitely is a “live and let live” kind of woman, which seems to be rare in traditional Indian homes. She is very lax with my roommates and I, and gives us our space. We eat at different times than her (dinner for us is at 8, and for her it is at 10) however, she will sit at the table and chat with us or even just listen to us talk. She constantly calls me crazy (and rightfully so). For Brittany’s birthday, she bought her a cake for breakfast and a little purse with earrings. She’s taken us to shop for sarees and out to dinner a few times.

Let me mention though, what makes living with Mum Mum so interesting is the fact that she speaks entirely broken English. A normal 2 minute conversation lasts for about 12 minutes. But she’s hilarious when you can understand what she’s saying. Before Valentine’s Day she asked, “Amanda, you have no boyfriend?”
“No, Mum Mum.”
“What you do for Valentine’s?”
“Hahaha umm, I guess just spend it with Brady.”
[side note: Brady is Brittany – Mum Mum to this day cannot pronounce Britt’s name right and says ‘Brady.’ As a joke, I’ve picked up on it as well…]
“No, you need a Valentine. Every year, we get, a special, book, writers in Kolkata…” then she goes off into this explanation about annual book and how the book supports the struggling writers guild. She continues to mention that it only comes once a year. I nod, smile patiently, wondering where she is going with this story. She ends with “So, like this book, you have boy for only one day a year!”
“Mum Mum, I like the way you think!!” (but maybe not the speed.)

Later on that day, I asked her if Dishu has any single actor friends. She answered no, they’re all married. But then says, “Except for one boy. But he’s no good!”
“Why, Mum Mum?”
“Because he drinks three litres of milk a day.”
“So?”
“So?! What girl take the risk?”
“What risk, Mum Mum?”
“Ooh baa baa, I can’t tell you!”
Later we finally figured out that she meant that if he didn’t get the milk he needed, he would try to suck on his girlfriend’s breast for milk. I don’t think she meant he does it literally. At least, I hope…

But I love her, she has the sweetest smile. She actually really sick right now, has been restricted to bed rest for two weeks. She had an infection that caused a high fever. Now the nerves in her legs are deadened. We haven’t seen too much of her which saddens me a lot. Besides her illness, she has been going through a lot recently. She is supposed to move into Dishu’s old apartment but the real estate agents won’t give her the money from selling the house. They want to wait for her to move out. She can’t move out until April because we are here until April. And she needs the money to start paying the rent on the new apartment. She’s not happy about leaving the house to begin with: it is her father-in-law’s house and she has lived here for 38 years. That’s a huge move. Granted, she will be moving into her son’s old apartment which is three floors below his new one (that excites her, that she can see her granddaughter all the time. You should see her face when Nini is around, it completely lights up.) But still, the promoters have been giving her so much crap and with this illness, nothing has been easy.

Another reason that Mum Mum reminds me of my grandmother is because she is so popular! Family and friends are always calling her cell phone. Her ringtone has become her theme song because it rings so much. So this ailment is completely hindering her social life – which is totally against Mum Mum’s way of life. We have so many people come over to wish her a speedy recovery. I have been pinched on the cheek so many times by random Bengali women.

We also have a maid, Sheila. She doesn’t speak any English so it has been hard to bond with her. She is so sweet though. It has been strange, similar to Semester at Sea, to have someone make and serve you meals. For my SASers who know what I’m talking about, it is not nearly as formal as the MV Explorer. But, we have to leave for service at 7:15, therefore we eat breakfast at 7:00. Sheila has to get up at 6:45 with us to make us breakfast. I am so appreciative, but it is not necessary and I feel guilty sometimes. Meals are lacking in variety at times, consisting of many, many potatoes, and a lot of rice. But I am so grateful and she truly is a sweetheart, putting up with a lot of our crazy American ways.

I love this house too. It is entirely Indian, quaint and vibrant. We have a small porch with Hindu paintings on it. The floors are large red tiles which cool the feet when it’s a hot day. Our walls are made of stone which also cool the house considerably when compared to the scorch of the hot Indian sun (which, by the way, we are still in winter.) Our beds are hard yet cozy. There is little space for us to accumulate all our crap but we manage (Jayme, our tiny little room #3075 had more closet space.) Our ceilings are high, also making the room cooler (see a pattern? Cooler is key in India.) The bathroom has become second nature to me know. It took a little while to get used to. I am grateful for an upright toilet, especially on those day where I ran out of Pepto. Bathing is process: first fill up a bucket from the faucet, then place the water heater in the bucket to heat up the water. After waiting for 10 minutes, squat on the floor of the bathroom and use a small plastic beaker to pour the water over your body and scrub scrub scrub! My feet and elbows are permanently stained black from the soot that is unconditionally ubiquitous (word of the day from Emily). As annoying as it is, I can’t help but love it.

Life at Mukta Sengupta’s is everything strange and comfortable, and all that I could hope for here in India. She truly is our loving Mum Mum.