It is very rare that a single person has many talents and she excels in all she does. Deepti Naval excels in all she does. She takes amazing portraits, does oil paintings (her home is filled with her art) and of course, writes sensitively. Many publishers have over the years requested her for her memoirs but she always refused. “When I write a book it will be about my childhood” and today that book is a best seller.
Excerpt 2:
“One of my most splendid monsoon nights came to me in the shape of a newborn calf that Charlie gave birth to. Late that night there was a banging on the phaatak and a voice called out, ‘Come, Shahni’s buffalo is giving birth!’ Excited, we wriggled out of bed. Mama grabbed umbrellas and covered us in plastic hoods. The lights had gone out and it was raining heavily. We sploshed across the gully and lined up at Shahni’s slushy tin shed.
There was Raj Aunty, Kishna, and some mochi kids wrapped in gunny bags. Sardarilal stood holding a gaslight in his hand. In the dimly lit night, we all stood waiting for the moment to happen. With the rain pouring down and the lights flickering, it was a long stretched out moment when we witnessed a little calf come into this world, his glassy black skin shimmering in the yellow kerosene lamp.
Even as Shahni was trying to wipe him clean, the calf, almost at once, opened his huge dark eyes and looked at the world around him. Against the backdrop of a streetlight, dripping wet, under a cluster of black umbrellas, we all stood, gawking at him . . . till all of a sudden, he slipped out of Shahni’s hands and fell to the squishy ground.
Everyone gasped. But then, after a few moments of flailing his limbs about, the baby buffalo swiftly swayed upright. Everyone cheered! Fascinated, I looked up at Mama; her eyes were moist. She held us close. Didi softly uttered ‘So black,’ and I whispered, ‘like velvet!’ Instantly the little one became my favourite of all the buffaloes.
I knew what I was going to call him—Black Velvet”.
Concluded