A visit to Hoskote with Francis

 

Francis enjoyed his visit to Hoskote!

A long time ago when I had lost my twin boys, my Aunt in Australia insisted that I visited her and Uncle Gussie to recouperate and recover my equilibrium. Losing a child and in this case children sent me spiraling into despair. My parents were most supportive and yet I just could not pull myself out of grief. So when A Genny said "Come!"I thought ok, lets go. So we applied for an Australian visa and promptly got rejected! Nope sorry folks we dont want you guys coming here and absconding. So, Dad said call Francis Colaco he is in Delhi where we had applied for our visas  -- he will definitely help. My parents were his buddies. In minutes we called Francis and in hours we had our visas. THAT was the power of the man.

 With Naveen who wants to join the police

 THEN! I had the fight of my life with a consulate woman who misbehaved with me and when I said I would tell the police, she turned the tables on me. My siblings took her side because one lot was getting her rental and the other needed a German visa for their son. Where could I go and who could I turn to? Francis ofcourse! it seemed like Dad was telling me to go to him yet again. I took the video which clearly showed her hitting me, slowed down by my students in college and Francis came with me straight to the current IGP. He need not have being such a big man. Read my book Some Bark, Some Bite available on Amazon.

 Each time we connected with Francis and gave him a bag of fruit from the farm he would say -- take me to your farm. I never bothered thinking such a big man what would he do on on our tiny 2 acre farm? But this time when he helped my husband escape being scammed he asked yet again and on the spot we set up the date and we took him. 

Bangkok tamarind grown from seed by me from sweet tamarind brought from a conference.

How he loved it -- picking chickoos, eating SWEET Bangkok tamarind which I grew from seed, checking out our apples which a Colonel gifted me, fresh off the tree, 

I crunched it fresh off the tree -- core and all!

looking at our lures put up on our mango trees to save our crop and finally sipping hot coffee made with the Arabica coffee beans from a tree that was taken from Hayes road to Hoskote. Grandpas Arabica trees of which I stupidly took only ONE, when there were six which I could have transplanted.

Grandpas Arabica from Hayes road.

 Francis has promised to help Naveen who has applied to join the police. We did not ask -- he volunteered when the boy spoke to him. I hope he does, as these boys are like our sons and have grown up on the farm to strapping 20 year old men.

Francis, you have looked after us even when family did not. Karma will catch up with them, but we have Francis to help whenever we call.

Apples in Hoskote!

 

Anna Apples in Hoskote

It was any regular day for me last year when the door bell rang. Opening the door the DHL courier guy stood there with a large, odd looking parcel. It was clearly addressed to me so I grudgingly took it inside the house and tearing open the packet I was shocked to find a dozen bare root saplings with tags to them. They were different varieties of apples and to say I was surprised I definitely was shocked!

I run a Goa gardening whatsapp group and  a Colonel serving in J and K who is an avid gardener, had sent me the saplings as a gift. They were bare root and in a dormant state. I had seen such saplings in supermarkets in the UK so thats how I realised what they were. 

The 'blush'of a true apple!

To be honest I was totally sceptical.  Apples growing  in the warmth of the plateau of Bangalore??? Thats a ridiculous thought. But since the plants were with me, we dug the 12 pits on the property and put them down. It was such a shock to find the trees grew leaves in no time and seemed to revel in the farm atmosphere. Narsimappa ofcourse looks after them like his babies and brings poultry manure and cowdung which is mixed with leaf mould and fed to them.

Too many on a branch so I will prune them down to 2 or 3 fruit.

The apple is the Anna variety says the colonel which seems to have taken to Hoskote. Its an experiment which has worked well. And, its an exciting time for Narsimappa as we bring friends to see the fruit and every visit he gets handsomely tipped. Thats fine, cause in return he gives them some other fruit from the farm.  

Ravi and Sridevi tenants of 001

 

Ravi and Sri Devi our tenants for 5 years and now good friends

Suddenly I got a call from a clear speaking gentleman one evening, all of 6 years ago, asking to rent our Ground  floor apartment here in Hayes Road. He had seen my ad on Magic Bricks and decided to take a chance and call. In minutes he had set up a meeting for the next evening as he needed to tie up an apartment so that he and his wife Sri Devi could shift in. Ravi was a Director of a bank in Singapore and looked forward to heading a new bank being set up in Bangalore. 

Heliconias in Hoskote.

So the next day on the dot of a pre-planned time we met in our apartment and discussed if either of us wanted to rent or vice versa. He had his own flat in Rajajinagar but he was not happy with the quality of neighbours in the building who were loud and crass he said. Our building with its laid back peaceful nature was more what they were looking for, after living in Singapore. 

 The Indian Almond in Hoskote

I will get the lease printed on stamp paper by tomorrow if you send it to me by email said Ravi. And in minutes we had shaken hands and we knew we had good people coming to join the Hayes Community.  By nightfall the next evening he had come in and signed the lease agreement and they would shift in from Singapore, he said, in a week. And that was the start of a wonderful friendship.

Apples growing in Hoskote

The five years they lived here I was so amazed with Ravis prowess with cooking cordon bleu dishes. "I cook to de-stress after a long day at work," he would say.  

"Please do de-stress often," I would say, as the fruits of his sessions were always shared with us.Prawn or fish, pork or mutton, the dishes were varied and delicious. 

"Could you get me some tamarind leaves,"he would say and obligingly we would pull out some from just beyond our windows. In a few hours a delicious tamarind prawn concoction would arrive steaming hot into our home which was enjoyed with fluffy, fresh rice.

A chameleon trying to scare me!

Their home was like a gorgeous museum as Ravi was into antiques and bought the most marvelous, priceless stuff from all over the world. His biggest collection was statues of Buddha collected from all over the world. Hundreds and thousands of them filled every nook and corner of the apartment. No wonder no servant could be trusted to clean, when they went travelling to the US to see their only doctor daughter.  

 

The organic brinjal crop in Hoskote.

Infact after my younger brother passed away it was Ravi who helped me with handling the bank work as my brothers son ( that too is debatable) was a hindrance, being no help when it came to a recognised death certificate. He just sat on his hands demanding the money as an inheritor. I had to run from pillar to post to get one -- all he wanted was the money with no set documentation which all banks and auditors need. I can never thank Ravi enough for helping me close my brothers account and transfer the funds into the boys account.

Tabibuea Argentea infront of our Castle St home

So whenever they visit Bangalore they feel its imperative to see us over a meal and bring us a bag full of goodies from Hyderabad. What amazes me is they never fail to give their former cook and helpers a meal and a gift of cash when they visit. 

"Is Raju the security gaurd still with you?"asks Ravi as we get up to leave.

"Yes! ofcourse!" I say and he makes a detour before going to the airport to give him Rs 5000/-

"We love Pilerne!"they say, "and it took us a long time to get used to Hyderabad after being spoiled here."

I just hope our new tenants feel the same way when they leave Hayes.   

 

Planted in the '20s Malgoba tree

 

The magnificent 130 odd year old Malgoba tree 

In one corner of the compound grows Grandpas Malgoba tree. Its not a graft, its a monster tree as were trees in the time before man invented grafts. He was a Karnataka man in his choices of mango trees and thats truly lucky, that he used logic to choose and not emotions like I did, choosing trees for my Hoskote Bella Vista. The Malgoba and the Raspuri are Karnataka brand mangoes and Hayes road was never short of any sort of fruit ALL the year round with his gardening skills.

So, every time we came down from Delhi or Shillong where Dad was posted, we came to a fragrant smelling house. The smells of ripening mangoes and jackfruit, avocadoes and custard apples wafted through the open store room door into the house. For me a fruitarian, it was heaven to be able to eat as many fruit as I wanted. Dad was a very strict Dad,a typical service man and insisted that I eat  "ONLY One"of whatever I was wolfing down. But Grandpa heard him instruct me and called me to him and said "You can eat as many mangoes as you want. Mangoes are here to be eaten not to be given to the servants." That was music to my ears and shamelessly I would bring out the biggest and juiciest for Grandpa to cut open for me. It was a grand ritual. He would call out for a quarter plate and one of the servants would come scurrying with it wiping it on his towel.

So few now as the bats make a meal of them every night

Then like a maharaja that he was, he would slowly wipe the blade of his special mango knife and very deliberately carve out the cheeks from the seed. Each mango was over a kg in weight so you can imagine how much flesh there was in the cheeks! Then Grandma would take over cutting the cheeks into cubes and turning it inside out. "Come my girl!" she would say and I was hoisted into a chair by a helper next to them and with a spoon I relished every single cube of mango, while they watched me indulgently! Thats what grandparents are all about! Those are my memories of my wonderful grandparents who spoiled me rotten on both sides, both in Bangalore and in Baroda.

Our Raspuris in Hoskote which are delicious as well

Then came my farm in Hoskote which I bought from Davids French teacher -- Miss Davenport. It was rubbish piece of land which I paid a princely sum for, by saving from my school fees that I made from my pre-school nursery. I bought and registered it on their word, before I saw it, in my impulsive fashion not realising what one person calls a farm would be a barren piece of land water less for me. I cried when I first saw it, but then as is my usual fashion, taught by my resilient parents -- make the best of what you have and work towards what you want.

After 30 years we have a Shangrila which has been decades of hard work and savings pumped in. The mango trees that I have are all grafts. Dad insisted that I bought and planted ONLY grafts and I did from Lalbagh. At the time Mallika was all the rage being a Karnataka hybrid. So I have mallikas and raspuris. I was stupid not to plant malgobas like grandpa did. I might be a mango queen today.

Thickly flowering  Mallikas

From the 2nd year itself they began to flower and fruit and we get literally tons of mangoes now. But my heart is with the malgoba as I have memories of eating them with my grandparents. They are nowhere as delicious as they were as the poor tree has been chopped in half while building the apartment block. The roots are below concrete so we do NOT feed it like my trees are fed and fussed in Hoskote. The poor thing manages valiantly unlike the other tree on the other side of the gate which had Dads orchid collection blooming on it. People who walked on the road looked in and admired his Blue Wanda and golden yellow Paleanopis, brought from Shillong.   

 The car is loaded like this at least 10 times!

Today we bring car loads of Mangoes from the farm and since I am diabetic I cannot misbehave sadly and eat only mango for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Sadly I can eat only ONE fruit for the day which is also not good for me. The house is redolent with the smell of ripening mangoes during the season like the old bungalow was and memories of my parents and grandparents who have given us what we have today come flooding back -- and I am grateful.

Mango jam with hardly an sugar in it.

Now since my own grand children live abroad I scoop out the flesh and freeze cartons of mangoes for them.  Then when they arrive, like they did recently they sit down to glasses of mango lassi and mango ice cream. Arthur just eats it plain and says its as good as eating a mango. He also loves the jam lathered on his chapatti. Nat is a fruitarian like me and enjoys any and every kind of fruit. Waiting now for the Americans to arrive. Andy loves fruit like his Mum and often I have carried chickoos and mangoes for them. They enjoyed the malgobas with their grandparents in Hayes which was a second home for them and so the tree has seen FOUR now FIVE generations of Furtados enjoy its fruit.

"Ofcourse you are half Furtado,"I tell them and they smile at me indulgently as they know the memories that I hold of my childhood here in Hayes. My name might has been stupidly changed but I am so glad today that my DIL have not felt the need to do what I did. They are proud of being Cardoza and Cutinha and rightly so.

A scam too close for comfort.

 

                          Flowers in the farm

It was an ordinary day that dawned when my alarm went off at 6:15 am. I pulled on my trainers, laced them up and was off for my run. Returning as is my regular routine I took the 2 liter bottle of water from Gogoi the security and went back up the road to water the two Rosea trees we had adopted. Its my regular routine to help them grow --  Thats another story for another day.

               Bougainvillea ablaze over the main wall in the farm.

Coming back I found Narsimappa my man from the farm with Naveen his son come to do a few chores in the building garden which our building maali is too lazy to do. Trim the Gul Mohur branches and the crazily growing sandpaper vine which had climbed up the tree. 

The tabibuea in Baldwin Girl's School

Coming home the rest of the day seemed panning out to be the same, quiet and unhurried as I had finished my cooking and I needed to get the second chapter of my new book done. Mani the helper had left and I went into the kitchen to collect my glass of mosambi juice I had left in the fridge to chill. As I passed the dining table I saw Greg my husband sitting and making some notes on sheets of paper and talking to someone. I did not pay too much attention and went back to my writing.

My son Andys Dogwoods infront of his house on Dogwood lane

Probably half an hour later I went out again to grab some chilled water from the fridge when I passed Greg talking earnestly to someone. I over heard him say -- I began working when I was 21, so I thought he was talking to a friend. But after swallowing the first sip of water I realised it was a really weird conversation as now he was telling the person what his address was and then his bank accounts and then----  when I heard his FD's which even I did not know I sniffed something really stinking.

Adeniums on the terrace

So I walked up and asked what it was all about and he put his finger on his lips and said shuuush! Its the CBI and they are investigating me for some fake fraud case. WHAAAAT??? I said -- what case -- and the man on the other end demanded that he did not allow any one in and it was private and confidential as he was helping him extricate himself out of the mess. THAT was when I KNEW this was a scammer. I insisted on Greg cutting the call as I was able to see what he had written on some sheets of paper. Apparently a case of Money laundering and human trafficking had been slapped on him because of a courier he sent from DHL..

   

The garden in Golden Arch

WHAT courier from DHL I asked?? Where have you sent a courier from DHL?? But he seemed scared and  said just go away, I have to go to Delhi if I dont sort it like this. Sort what I asked?? The next thing I saw him running to his cupboard and giving the person on the other end more bank account  details. He was even telling him details and amounts of what FDs he had which even I dont know. Thats when I decided which police officer would ask all these questions and I will call a real police officer to sort the issue. As usual he would not listen to me, so I HAD to get help.

  Epsom salts brought by David has helped the bougainvillea to flower profusely

I called Francis Colaco who had helped me out of a fake case foisted on me a few years earlier. He immediately said tell Greg to cut the call and dont give any more information. But Greg was already too far sucked in and refused to cut the call. I was pretty desperate by then.

Just give your phone to him said Francis if he is not listening to you. Thankfully I did with the other guy still on speaker. "Francis speak to Greg there's a scammer on his phone and we need to catch him," I said loudly. Hearing Francis voice Greg snapped out of his crazy daze and need to give his details to the scammer and I was able to cut the call.

Organic brinjals thriving in the farm.

I have no idea how they get peoples numbers said Francis but you should cut the call as soon as a person starts talking about your cash and savings. No police officer will ever ask you all that. It happened in minutes as thankfully my gut feel said there's something wrong going on here. The questions were too crazy and personal and when he said private and confidential even your wife should not know, I was sure there was something wrong. 

I have often wondered reading stories in the papers about senior citizens being scammed and when I saw it happening in my own home, right infront of me, I had never felt such fear before. It seemed like the scamster had some hold over Greg and he was refusing to listen to me. Finally it was Francis who shut the call down and I insisted Greg went to speak to him. I even called his elder brother to talk some sense into him.

 We ARE in a dicey spot as he has given out too much sensitive information so we have to be wary. I have to be doubly wary as obviously these scamsters know exactly whom to target.

It's chickoo time in Hoskote

                           This year is a BUMPER crop!

As children there was a chickoo tree planted in the back of the property by my grand father. He was a great gardener as the garden boasted of every conceivable fruit tree our hearts desired. After Dad took over the house, he rented it to a jockey family, as we lived in New Delhi, since Dad was posted there as an aeronautical engineer. The woman of the house ran a dairy farm in the back of the property, making lakhs of rupees selling the milk to all the big hotels in the city. However the potent urine  of the cows disturbed the fruit trees and the chickoo tree in particular stopped fruiting.

Our 25 graft chickoo trees in Hoskote.

Then Dad was able to get them out of our home - ofcourse they did not want to leave since they were enjoying such a huge property for little or no 'çaretaker' rent. Finally with the help of lawyer Rego and several desperate appeals as a serving officer to  New -Delhi, Dad got our home back and we moved back in. As usual they were powerful people so kept us hanging, but finally truth won in the end, but it was a tough fight for Dad. 

A one year old graft is already fruiting!

So,  to go back to the chickoo tree that stopped fruiting in the garden -- my mother began a preschool in a building erected at the back of the house. The chickoo tree was saved and it stood there alongside the sandpit which my mother had made for the babies to play in. The babies played near it shouting and screaming aound the tree and the next thing we knew -- the barren tree was loaded with fruit! Dads stand about the trees being happy --seemed to come true. Even though we scoffed at his reason as kids.

The FIFTH picking this year from Hoskote!

Then came our farm our beautiful Bella Vista and I listened to Dad and bought ONLY grafts from Lalbagh of the cricket ball and oval varieties. We planted them and they grew over the years giving us just one or two maximum pickings. THEN we began our Sustainable Living classes for many schools for free in the farm 2 years ago. That brought in hundreds of kids who had never seen chickoos growing on trees. They screamed and played games around them and to my great surprise Dads words have come true in our farm-- the trees are happy with the sounds of kids around them. The branches are groaning with the weight of the fruit on every single tree!

 

                   Girls from Dream Foundation

Dads words are vindicated.  Yes truly the trees are happy with the kids around. The apples are fruiting, the star fruit are bigger, the tamarind had a huge crop, the Bangkok tamarind fruited and yes! they are sweet, the avocados are fruiting and the seetaphal and Ramphal too. Never mind the rash of jackfruit and the amlas both the native and domesticated. The star gooseberries and our mangoes - what Mallikas and Raspuris we get-- I feel sad Dad and Mum cant enjoy them.

The farm is happy and thrilled the kids have come and for the FIRST year I am selling my fruit on whatssapp and they are flying off to excited buyers via Dunzo. Thanks Dad and Mum. There is so much in my life I know thanks to the both of you. I wake every single day saying thank you for your inheritance which has changed my life. 

                  Girls playing inbetween the chickoo trees.

The astounding frescoes of St Aloysius Chapel

                          An astounding piece of art. Can out rival European churches.

I had heard stories about the beauty of St Aloysius Chapel from the Jesuit priests I had worked with in St Joseph's PG College, Bangalore. Truly you should write about it Marianne-- said Fr Praveen Martis who had been my principal and Fr Ambrose Pinto who poached me from the Deccan Herald to start the Media section. Both men said since I enjoy renaissance art and had written extensively about it for the newspapers while I did my Erasmus Mundus in Europe, I SHOULD take a trip.

                     The beauty of the frescoes across every wall and roof.

So telling Everest the driver to wait in the shade of the rain trees we slipped off our shoes and walked into the silent and cool church. How it can be called a chapel is beyond me. Its as big as the St Patricks Church in Bangalore, and much more colourful.  Reluctantly taking off my shoes, as I had just had a mandatory pedicure, I need not have worried as the floors were spotless.

                           Intricate frescoes on the roof!

I walked literally with my mouth open. Such beauty I had seen only in Rome and  Milan, maybe Venice and Turin. None of the glitzy German churches could compare, infact our Portuguese legacy churches in Goa are far superior to the German churches or even Polish churches.

Every inch of the roof is adorned.

 But unlike the European churches there was no literature or any guide to explain the art we were gawping at. We just wandered around and stared and took pictures. All done in the renaissance styles we had seen on our several visits to Rome and other parts of Europe, especially Italy.

Br Antonio Moscheni the Italian  who was the artist.

Born near Bergamo in Italy, in 1854, Br Moscheni was apprenticed under the masters who worked in the Vatican and Fresco art became his passion. In 1889 he joined the Jesuits and painted several churches in Yugoslavia and Albania. He also painted several churches in India including a cathedral in Mumbai. Sadly in 1905 he fell ill and died after falling greviously ill. I personally wonder if the lead in the paint affected him and he finally passed away. We humans are stupid and do not check what can cause fatal illness in us by using different chemicals. Then we wonder how we got cancer.

                               Outstanding art

It was when Everest the driver told us to go to the museum that we went in and got a lot of information. The chapel is so famous because of its frescoes and for that visitors come from all over the world to see them. 

Always give a token gift of cash for the upkeep of the church. And dress with care!