Vinyl Treats

You know me, I go home, have a root around and find something interesting to blog about whenever I go home!

And why should this time be any different?

When we had this glut of celebrities keeling over on us last year, I remembered that back in the day I would have bought the records of some of the singers. I wondered whether in the rubbish treasure my mum hoards keeps, those vinyls would be there.

Well they were, and so many more classics I hadn’t even known about before!

As she went to hunt down where my records were, she found a bag with some that had been hers when she was at school. My mum went to an English girls boarding school in Kenya when growing up, and the ‘Matron’ had to keep all their treats, be it edible ones or those things you wanted to listen to. On a weekend, Matron would allow the girls to take their special items, and mum had these 7 inch and 12 inch discs… some real classics!

I actually can’t believe she was into David Bowie!!

Then she hoiked out a little suitcase which held some records that my brother had entrusted in her care… (Mine had still not been found…)

The speeches of Winston Churchill surprised me!

After much huffing and puffing mum uncovered the precious old Technics stereo that we used to use back in the day. My brother has made them keep it, for him to have when he has his own house!  And inside, were all the records I remembered!

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I did squeal slightly as I came face to face with a giant arachnid!

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Thankfully he had departed this world already!

And so to the booty inside! My, what a truly 80’s set of albums!

There were singles too!

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And for you Eurovision enthusiasts, look what I found!

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A Beach Boys album too!

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There were children’s nursery rhyme records, and a mini top of the pops album which we used to dance around to too!

My Pops loved Kaoma and Lambada! He bought this himself!

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One day at school we had a second hand sale and I was so proud to buy my first single, New Edition’s Candy Rain… imagine my surprise and disappointment (Sorry God!) when out came a Hindu prayer instead!

And now I know where my love of Disco stemmed from!

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I even unearthed a ‘Listen and read along’ Lady and the Tramp from Walt Disney!

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This by no means exhausts what I found. There were loads of religious Records, and Hindi and Punjabi soundtracks too!

It was truly a trip down memory lane!!!

Any records there you remember?

Home…?

Where is your home?

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British Skies

I am not talking about the bricks and mortar that you spend the night in, where you have your family of friends living with you.

I mean where are you from, really?

A little scene I saw on a TV programme earlier made me think.

A Sri Lankan comedian, Romesh Ranganathan, was travelling around America and was entered into a chilli/hot food eating contest, and the cameraman was surprised that he found it so hard. Ranganathan asked him why he thought that he would have been ok eating pure chilli and the other guy couldn’t really answer. Because he assumed that being brown skinned meant being immune to the properties of all the chillies and spices in the whole world.

The thing is, Romesh was born and brought up in the UK, in Crawley. Not in Sri Lanka.

And the same goes for me. Born and brought up in Birmingham, in the UK, I abhor chilli. Spice, I can cope with, but not hot food! I will often add to my introduction of myself that I am a bad Indian, as I can’t eat hot food!

But how Indian am I?

Genetically I am 100% Indian, born to Indian parents, but they were born in Kenya. So are they Indian or Kenyan?

Similarly, am I Indian, Kenyan, or British?

If someone was to shout out to me to go home, back to where I came from, do they mean I should leave the Garden of England, in Kent, and scurry off, tail between my legs, back to Birmingham? Or are they referring to my skin, and telling me to go back to whatever South Asian country I obviously came from?

Thing is, to me, my home is here. In Great Britain. I have grown up for the last 40 years with the same influences around me as the average ‘English’ 40 year old. We watched the same TV, went to the same schools, drank at the same pubs, danced at the same clubs…

Granted I had rather colourful family orientated weekends, due to all our various celebrations and get togethers, but that only added flavour to the Ritu that I was.

I could probably bet that there are many white skinned British folk who have eaten more curries than me. My mum was never one of those Indian mummies who always had a pot of curry on the boil… Yes we ate traditional Indian food, but not that often. We would even eat certain Kenyan foods like Ugali, a steamed corn bread with spinach or chicken. In fact if you ask me, my favourite dinner is a good old Roast Lamb with mint sauce, complete with roasties, Yorkshire puddings, veg and lashings of gravy!

In my car you’ll find CD’s ranging from Brit Pop to Bollywood, the Swinging Sixties to Soul, Bhangra to The Beatles. Eclectic, but it’s a reflection of me heritage, and growing up.

At home, I lounge around in my trackies and hoodie, not a Punjabi salwar kameez.

And I know that everything seems better after a good old cuppa tea. (But that goes for British, and Indian values!)

But it still doesn’t change where my home is.

I Hate Shopping, MUM!!!!!

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I don’t wanna go Mummy,
Please don’t make me!
Shopping again? Really Mummy
Please don’t take me!

All we seem to do is
Go up and down the aisles!
Its not a massive shop Mummy
But you make me walk miles!

Then we turn a corner
And you spy  an old friend
You stop to natter…
Oh, this trip will never end!

Toy aisle! My favourite!
Now we’re talking!
No, Mummy, stop!
Don’t keep on walking!

Okay, then the sweetie aisle
Its coming up real fast!
But yet again you manage to
Push the trolley straight past!

This is no fair! What’s my reward
For being dragged around?
You just said no to every treat
That I had gone and found!

Well fine then, just hurry up
Get to the till to pay!
So we can pack this shopping up
And quickly get away!

Back home you present to me
The trading cards you had
Hidden in the trolley…
Cool! Shopping’s not so bad!

Ritu 2015

This is one dedicated to my kids, who seem to need bribery to convince them to ever go grocery shopping with me! With Lil Princess, its a magazine, or something arty, Lil Man wants trading cards for whatever collection he is attempting to amass at the time!

Since when did kids start bartering for rewards (read bribes!) just so they agree to go shopping?! When I was young, it wasn’t an option! If mum needed to shop, and we were too young to stay at home, we were just put into our coats and sat in the car, no explanations needed, then we quietly, obediently, went arould the shop either walking beside, or sat in the trolley!

I must admit, I used to take the opportunity to add to the contents of the basket when I was smaller, as mum’s back was turned, and the fact that I was sat in the trolley gave me much easier access to some pretty yummy stuff, as I was higher up! It would get discovered at the till, but hey, I had fun trying!

But hey, this is for all those parents out there, struggling to drag their offspring around the aisles of the local supermarket! I don’t get the vocal tantrums, but believe me, If I was to come across you in the aisle, with your child screaming, I wouldn’t roll my eyes, I would totally sympathise!

The Day I Shut Down the Motorway -#angelsdoexist

Saturday 25th February 2017.

That’s a date I won’t forget in a hurry.

It was a hard enough day, attending the funeral of my cousin, then I had to drive back home, 3 hours to normality… or so I thought.

Basically, I’m lucky to be here writing this post.

As I sit here, still in Birmingham with my Pops, sore as anything, I can’t help but flash back to what happened yesterday.

I had an accident. A pretty big accident, on the Motorway, the M6,  not long after I left here.

In a nutshell, I lost control of my car, possibly a burst tyre, or a sudden gust of wind (remnants of Storm Doris), and went careering into the central reservation. I tried to turn the steering wheel to get back on the road, but it started to spin around.

Hitting the barrier on all sides, it spun round into the middle of the busy motorway. Somehow I didn’t hit any other vehicles, and no one went into me.

I sat there in shock. A

few cars went past, and some stopped to help. A young Eastern European man asked if I was ok, and went to call an ambulance. Another couple of Asian men came to my door and encouraged me to get out if I was able.

Two other cars stopped. A young British couple and an older British couple.

I was given hugs, and reassurance and the younger lady brought me a drink from their car.

Standing there at the side of the road, adrenalin coursing through my veins, I couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

The next thing I know, the police had arrived, to cordon off the road so they could clear debris, and an ambulance arrived.

In the space of 5 minutes, there were five squad cars, an ambulance, Paramedic car, the Doctors on Call car, a Fire Engine, and even an Air Ambulance on the scene! They tried to get the helicopter to not land, as it wasn’t needed, but the message arrived late, so it touched down, then went straight back up in the air again!

And I had, single-handedly, shut down both sides of the M6. Debris strewn across both sides of the M6…

My poor car… It took a hell of a beating, and I fear I will be saying goodbye to my precious Bebe. The bumper came off, it crumpled, the sides and boot were all hit severely, all the tyres burst, but it looks like Bebe took the brunt of the force, leaving me still standing.

I was checked over, and the paramedics were worried about my spine as I had tenderness around the spinal area of my neck. Next thing I know I was in a neck brace and strapped to a board so I couldn’t move. Precautionary, of course.

I had called Hubby Dearest who was at home with the kids, and contacted Pops, who hared over to me, as fast as he could, considering I had caused a huge traffic jam.

My basic luggage (and Lil Princess’s lunchbox, strangely enough!) was rescued, at my request, and I had my handbag, but the rest of my stuff is still sitting in Bebe, in a garage somewhere…

As I was being strapped down, the Policeman turned the radio up and said “Here, listen, you’ve made the news!”, as the details of my accident and the hold up were announced on the traffic alerts.

Pops arrived as I was being prepared to be driven to the hospital. He was so worried and nearly ran across the road, after parking the wrong place! The Paramedic joked “Is your dad in a blue car? He nearly got himself in a pickle there! Your BP seems fine, but his may now be sky high! Tell him we don’t do 2 for 1 on the ambulance!”

The Policeman said Pops needed to turn around and come back. He was hoping to get some stuff from the car. By the time he arrived back, the car had been towed, and the ambulance had also gone!

I was taken to Accident and Emergency, where the staff were so great. X-rayed quickly, by which time Pops arrived. The result came in, no bone injury, thankfully, and the doctor checked me out. I was ok, nothing broken, but I was to expect soreness, and tenderness, and shock.

I was then released and sent home, so Pops and I left.

I spoke to Hubby Dearest and the kids, who were all very worried. Lil Man was concerned about the stuff left in the car, especially the chewing gum! As I explained that we probably wouldn’t see the car again, he said, “Rest In Peace Bebe!” Hubby Dearest was distraught being so far away, and unable to be there for me, but someone had to be there with the kids, and I had my Pops, after all.

Speaking to a cousin of mine after, she recalled when something similar happened to her, but her mum was in the car with her. She prayed that the car get hit on her side, not her mum’s and as they spun across the road, and went up the embankment, she continued to pray. The car came to a stop as if it had been parked up ready to go again, and she realised that miracles do happen. No injuries… and a good thing too, as she was getting married the following week!

She said to me, ” I realised then that angels were with me, protecting us. Ritu, you had your angel by your side too.”

And she couldn’t have said a truer word.

Someone was looking down on me, protecting me from something that could have been so much worse… Maybe it was my cousin…

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And now… I am sat here waiting until 10 am when I can call the insurance and the garage up. Hopefully, I will be able to go home today. Hubby Dearest will get me.

But, you know what Peeps? I am so grateful to be here, able to write this post. And I will never take being alive, and able to do so much, for granted again.

Thank God  I was in that car alone. The children weren’t in the car with me.

Thank God no one else was involved.

Thank God for the wonderful, compassionate souls who stopped to make sure this idiotic Indian woman was ok and reassured her.

And thank God for The Paramedics, the Doctors, the Police, the Air Ambulance, the Fire Service. They were so amazing, working so fast and efficiently, to help me and make the road safe again for the rest of the drivers.

So here’s to a less eventful Sunday… ❤

 

#SoCS Feb. 25/17 – How

Linda’s #SoCS prompt this week…

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “how.” Start your post with the word “How.” Bonus points if you end with it too. Enjoy!

I am attending my dear cousin’s funeral today… The following #SoCS entry is for him.

How will we get through today
When goodbye is the word we have to say?
Why did you have to leave us so?
Who told you it was your time to go?
What should we feel, sorrow or gladness
That you suffered little, but left us with this madness?
Where will you go, some place peaceful now?
I guess that you’ll let us know, somehow

Ritu 2017

RIP Manjit Virji

Peace be with your beautiful soul 😢

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