A person from London is called a Londoner, from New York a New Yorker, from Glasgow, a Glaswegian and so on. In India, one from Mumbai will be called a Mumbaikar, from Delhi, a Delhiwala, and so on. I live in a city in Maharashtra in India called Pune. A resident will be called Punekar.
That preamble was to introduce you to a new word that I learnt today.
*”Ultracrepidarian”*
It is defined as “a person having the habit of giving opinions and advice on matters outside of his knowledge or competence.”
Instead of that tongue twister, Maharashtrians, that is, people who live in Maharashtra, India, will simply call a person of that nature a Punekar.
For my readers, I think that I am an exception that proves the rule. What do you think?
My friend SG had this to say on his Facebook post: “This is probably a sure sign that I am getting old, but I absolutely love “Gone Fishing” with Bob Mortimer and Paul Whitehouse. Stunning locations, gentle banter and great fishing – what’s not to like?”
That took me back to the early nineties of the last century and Chris Rea.
I posted this in response to SG and we then exchanged the following messages.
SG: Please watch the programme if you can. It is on BBC 2 here, I think. It is hosted by two aging comedians in their early 60s who are recovering from life threatening health conditions, so a lot of meditations on life and mortality (all presented in a light-hearted way).
I: I have seen a few clips on youtube recommended by some friends. Quite interesting but, not my cup of tea. I am not as old as you are.
(There is over two decades of age difference between us.)
For those interested, the lyrics for Chris Rea’s song:
I’m going fishing I got me a line Nothin’ I do’s gonna’ make the difference So I’m taking the time And you ain’t never gonna’ be happy Anyhow, anyway So I’m going fishing And I’m going today I’m going fishing Sounds crasy I know I know nothing about fishing But just watch me go And when my time has come I will look back and see Peace on the shoreline That could have been me You can waste whole lifetime Trying to be What you think is expected of you But you’ll never be free May as well go fishing.
Chris Rea interview – summer 1991, for the song ”Gone Fishing”.
“I know a lot of people have remarked to me they have listened to the record, “I like that song, that’s what we should do, just go fishing, forget about everything”. The funny thing about that song is as I say in the song, I don’t know anything about fishing. he bottom line of the tune is that when you get to the last day of your life and you look back, and you see how many hours you’ve spent in traffic-jams, pushing and shoving, how many hours you’ve spent elbowing people out of the way and being elbowed out of the way; You just thing to yourself I wish I had all them hours back, cos I may as well have gone fishing…”
I know that the number 13 is considered to be unlucky for many and also know that the fear of the number has a name. I however find it extremely difficult to remember the tongue-twister triskaidekaphobia and have to google for it at need.
Another WhatsApp forward came to remind me of it. Please click on the image for a larger resolution.
Lucky, unlucky or whatever, I have experienced a personal loss on a double so called bad luck day. A Friday the thirteenth. Despite that I would not mind staying in a room number 13 on the 13th floor of a hotel. How about you?
By now my readers will be aware of my connection with and fondness for Kerala. In fact, my last post was about food from Kerala made specially for the Onam festival.
Another feature of the Onam celebrations in Kerala is the annual boat races about which, one can learn a lot from the following video.
Today is Onam. A festival celebrated by Malayalis from Kerala, a state in the South West of India. Regular readers of this blog will recollect that I have deep connections with Kerala, my late mother having been born there and apart from that, my having lived there for many years apart from visiting it in depth many times. I have friends there and also many Malayali diaspora friends and since morning have been flooded with Onam greeting messages which I have had to respond to.
While that part of the post was easy to create and write the next part is a little difficult. There are a number of families in India, who have suffered greatly during the lockdowns due to the pandemic and one of them is an entrepreneur who lives in my neighbourhood. She had to close down a small restaurant that she was running due to the lockdown. Unable to come out of the deep financial losses to restart her business, she has taken to cooking food at home and supplying to people desiring her specialities among them being food from Kerala.
A few days ago, a mutual friend had suggested to me to extend some support to this lady and since Onam was coming up I placed an order for two Onam specialities to be delivered to me today. The top image is of Ela Ada and the lower one of Palada Pradhaman. These two dishes were duly delivered this morning well in time for consuming during lunch and my son and I thoroughly enjoyed both dishes. Enough has been refrigerated for the DIL to have for her dinner on her return from work.
None of us are quite capable anymore of partaking traditional Onam meal like the one shown below, served on a plantain leaf.
A person from London is called a Londoner, from New York a New Yorker, from Glasgow, a Glaswegian and so on. In India, one from Mumbai will be called a Mumbaikar, from Delhi, a Delhiwala, and so on. I live in a city in Maharashtra in India called Pune. A resident will be called Punekar.
