It was not until 1950 that India finally became the Republic of India. Shortly after, India opened a brand new embassy in Buenos Aires and my journalist father moonlighted as a translator (English to Spanish and Spanish to English) at the Embassy.

I may not remember all that well but it was about then that my mother would sport the Indian mirror bag when she went to parties. It was her favourite purse. Perhaps my father gave it to her as such a purse would be unavailable in Argentina.

But India as a concept and country was exotically alien to the then 8 year old me. My grandmother often told me the story on how on a ship from Manila (to the eventual destination of Buenos Aires) in 1938 they purchased a couple of items when the ship docked in Durban, South Africa. The bought them from a man who was selling them out of a small boat. Since that day those two items were called Abue’s (Abuelita) camphor babies. They have been everywhere and are now in our Kitsilano home.

One of the pieces of furniture is a lovely Chinese camphor chest. The other is an octagonal, foldable and highly elaborate end table. It was only yesterday that I looked it all up in Google and found out that the table is an Anglo/Indian rose wood table.

India has been in my life all along!

During the short (one exposure) session in the Cultch dressing room Mehta told me that her mother had one just like it.

I am sure that somewhere both our mothers are smiling at the tidy symmetry.

Honour - The Confessions of a Mumbai Courtesan