"My heart aches and a drowsy numbness pains my sense"Couldn't have been more appropriate for my mood.Shes dead now two days and I am not sure what I feel.We lost touch a few years ago but the memories of a friend are good.Lots of laughter,her wide smile,her backward slant writing and the many letters exchanges during college holidays all come back to haunt.
I remember we met up again some years ago and marvelled at how we had grown sideways.We talked of old time ,had a cup of tea and parted ways.She on her kinetic Honda,me pillion,wind blowing through our hair as we shouted out our conversation.
I don't know what I feel,shock,emptiness,nothing.....I cannot say,all I know is that one more person on my friend list has turned to dust and I have nothing to say.
tea gardens
Friday, May 25, 2007
Monday, May 21, 2007
Meeting Ms Kalambi
She is 84 and a friend of mine.No not my parents friend but mine.I would like to be like her when I reach that age (the rate at which the weighing sale swings I doubt I will live to see the day)
She arrived in Madras at 12 noon on a day when the temperature was 43 degrees and rising.Dressed in a sunshine yellow saree and a bag that she could fit into herself she got off the train.I haven't seen her in two years but she remains the same.Small bright and always full of beans.
I have known her for some 20 years now.At a time when tenants in Bombay were famous for squatting on premises,she worked her way into the courtrooms for 15 years to fight for what was hers.The rest of the family were ready to give up,the tenant was convinced she would be dead long before a verdict was given but she stayed on.Day in and day out come hell or high tide,she was in court.She won the case and got her flat back.I went to stay with her them and her happiness was infectious.
Her husband died and we watched carefully for the first signs of depression,but she took it in her stride.After the initial shock she picked up the pieces and started a new life.It took her on a journey to far flung lands on countless airlines with only a sister in law for company or alone.No distance could stop her,she was determined to see the world,enjoy life as long as it lasted.
Two years ago I was in Bombay and looked her up.She rushed around her newly remodelled kitchen,cooking up lunch for me.We ate and talked of old time,of our favourite past time .We had spent many hours in Pune talking and speculating about her neighbours,the young,the rich ,the old and the dull ones.
Our paths crossed again last weekend.I was to pick her up at the station and bring her home.She was famous for getting on the wrong train,famous also for finding it most amusing while her family and I rushed around wondering what could have happened to her.She would turn up and act like it was a done thing to get lost.Her family co ordinated her comings and goings with me over the weekend and I ensured that I was at the station half an hour ahead of schedule to catch her before she vanished.She arrived home to find my husband and his friend drinking chilled beer to beat the heat.While I drank water she seated herself at the dining table and ordered a beer.She preferred whiskey but decided that beer was better in the heat.I watch amused as my friend poured out the beer with great care and gave it to her.She them got on to chat with them on all kinds of subjects.
I had the most delightful weekend with my 84 year old friend and when I left her in the good hands of a flight attendant she was already planning her next trip.
She is a woman I will never forget
She arrived in Madras at 12 noon on a day when the temperature was 43 degrees and rising.Dressed in a sunshine yellow saree and a bag that she could fit into herself she got off the train.I haven't seen her in two years but she remains the same.Small bright and always full of beans.
I have known her for some 20 years now.At a time when tenants in Bombay were famous for squatting on premises,she worked her way into the courtrooms for 15 years to fight for what was hers.The rest of the family were ready to give up,the tenant was convinced she would be dead long before a verdict was given but she stayed on.Day in and day out come hell or high tide,she was in court.She won the case and got her flat back.I went to stay with her them and her happiness was infectious.
Her husband died and we watched carefully for the first signs of depression,but she took it in her stride.After the initial shock she picked up the pieces and started a new life.It took her on a journey to far flung lands on countless airlines with only a sister in law for company or alone.No distance could stop her,she was determined to see the world,enjoy life as long as it lasted.
Two years ago I was in Bombay and looked her up.She rushed around her newly remodelled kitchen,cooking up lunch for me.We ate and talked of old time,of our favourite past time .We had spent many hours in Pune talking and speculating about her neighbours,the young,the rich ,the old and the dull ones.
Our paths crossed again last weekend.I was to pick her up at the station and bring her home.She was famous for getting on the wrong train,famous also for finding it most amusing while her family and I rushed around wondering what could have happened to her.She would turn up and act like it was a done thing to get lost.Her family co ordinated her comings and goings with me over the weekend and I ensured that I was at the station half an hour ahead of schedule to catch her before she vanished.She arrived home to find my husband and his friend drinking chilled beer to beat the heat.While I drank water she seated herself at the dining table and ordered a beer.She preferred whiskey but decided that beer was better in the heat.I watch amused as my friend poured out the beer with great care and gave it to her.She them got on to chat with them on all kinds of subjects.
I had the most delightful weekend with my 84 year old friend and when I left her in the good hands of a flight attendant she was already planning her next trip.
She is a woman I will never forget
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
recipes for lazy people
chicken and rum
boneless chicken cut into thin strips-about a cup
sliced onions-about 4 good size ones
pepper and salt to taste
rum-3 spoons
soy sauce-1 spoon
cornflour or maida-3 spoons
olive oil or any other for frying
mix rum,soy,pepper,salt and maida to a smooth paste.If its too liquid,add more flour.Mix chicken strips to coat evenly
heat oil to smoking and add coated chicken,fry to deep brown and keep aside.
in the remaining oil,saute onions to golden brown.add chicken to onions and toss.Wash out remaining marinade with rum and add to chicken and onions.Simmer on low flame till its a thick consistency.Garnish with available herbs or chopped spring onions and serve hot with steamed rice.
boneless chicken cut into thin strips-about a cup
sliced onions-about 4 good size ones
pepper and salt to taste
rum-3 spoons
soy sauce-1 spoon
cornflour or maida-3 spoons
olive oil or any other for frying
mix rum,soy,pepper,salt and maida to a smooth paste.If its too liquid,add more flour.Mix chicken strips to coat evenly
heat oil to smoking and add coated chicken,fry to deep brown and keep aside.
in the remaining oil,saute onions to golden brown.add chicken to onions and toss.Wash out remaining marinade with rum and add to chicken and onions.Simmer on low flame till its a thick consistency.Garnish with available herbs or chopped spring onions and serve hot with steamed rice.
food for little people
Chicken spread
Boiled chicken -1 cup
mayonnaise-4 spoons
herbs(mint,cilantro etc)-chopped fine about 3 spoons.
salt and pepper to taste
shred chicken in blender with mayo,salt and pepper.Add chopped herbs and mix to smooth paste.Spread on toast or spoon with nachos.Serve chilled (tastes better)
Boiled chicken -1 cup
mayonnaise-4 spoons
herbs(mint,cilantro etc)-chopped fine about 3 spoons.
salt and pepper to taste
shred chicken in blender with mayo,salt and pepper.Add chopped herbs and mix to smooth paste.Spread on toast or spoon with nachos.Serve chilled (tastes better)
40 and going strong
Everywhere i look in this country there are young people.Youth is the big buzz word.In my parents time 58 or 65 was retirement,today at 40 one is over the hill.Never mind that there is a wealth of experience,or that we took are time to go through stages in life and are therefore better equipped to handle things.I would like to think that some of us of 40 plus are classic french cuisine while the new lot is typical American fast food that looks great but causes enough damage to ones system.
Go to Europe and one finds that there are more people of 40 plus who are busy working enjoying life and generally very much part of mainstream.Get into a western airline and you will find air hostesses one can believe in.They look like they can handle a crisis.Come to India and air hostesses can smile and wish you but I would hate to be in a crash with the likes of them.
The call centre culture irks me.Not only are they devoid of thinking powers,they do tend to sound like stuff out of an assembly line.Why oh why do we pay so much for mediocrity?
In my time we had the fun of rushing around in public transport,being casual,eating and drinking was also part of a variety of stuff we did,read go for a play,visit friends,party.Pubs and hardcore drinking wasn't part of our lives but that did not mean we were square.We had our fair share of ups and downs and we handled it without the help of a call centre.If we got lost,we found our way without the help of Google or the cell phone.We played games,walked for miles and didn't need an ipod or mp3 player for company.
Wow I like the good old days of balance and happiness when individuals had individuality and character.Thank god I am in my 40s and escaped the dumb world of the 20 something.
Go to Europe and one finds that there are more people of 40 plus who are busy working enjoying life and generally very much part of mainstream.Get into a western airline and you will find air hostesses one can believe in.They look like they can handle a crisis.Come to India and air hostesses can smile and wish you but I would hate to be in a crash with the likes of them.
The call centre culture irks me.Not only are they devoid of thinking powers,they do tend to sound like stuff out of an assembly line.Why oh why do we pay so much for mediocrity?
In my time we had the fun of rushing around in public transport,being casual,eating and drinking was also part of a variety of stuff we did,read go for a play,visit friends,party.Pubs and hardcore drinking wasn't part of our lives but that did not mean we were square.We had our fair share of ups and downs and we handled it without the help of a call centre.If we got lost,we found our way without the help of Google or the cell phone.We played games,walked for miles and didn't need an ipod or mp3 player for company.
Wow I like the good old days of balance and happiness when individuals had individuality and character.Thank god I am in my 40s and escaped the dumb world of the 20 something.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Fun,friends forever
Partying is hardly my kind of fun,but when I take the trouble to go all the way from Chennai to Mumbai just to attend a party,you guess its serious stuff.
Actually not,its was an invite that came too late but promised to be interesting so why not go over and check it out.Interesting it was,the rest of my weekend also turned out to be great fun and I let my hair down after ages.
The party was a reunion of sorts.Normally reunions are confined to school and college but this one was different in every way.
To begin with it was the brainchild of three or four people who had worked in a company for the better part of their lives.They discovered that most of what they had learnt in their professional lives could be attributed to the culture of this company they had worked for.As discussions progressed they discovered that there were hoards of people who had done exactly what they had,spent around 15 to 20 years with one company,grew up the ranks,shared the many ups and downs of corporate life and lived to enjoy every moment until one fine day the culture changed and everything else with it so at different points people left to greener pastures.Some left in haste,some in anger,some with warmth,some with respect but a lot of people made a shift.
Over the years a single common cord bound a lot of us,we had the common experience of this company and we had built long lasting relationships.Strangely the entire experience revolved around one person.All of us related to this person in different ways.He was the leader.Some of us quaked in our shoes when he arrives,some of us lit up when he was around,but whatever the experience we loved,admired and respected this person so much and benefited from our experiences so well that a reunion seemed like a fitting occasion to meet and chat.
It was slated to start at 8pm on Friday but like the unwritten code in Mumbai we all arrived fashionably late.We had changed in many ways but the group had many high achievers.People who head businesses around the country,entrepreneurs,home makers etc.It was a formidable pool of talent,it was also a formidable pool of people who knew how to have a good time,share a laugh,yell scream,sing and generally go a bit wild.
In the semi dark environment with the background of thumping music we managed to recognise erstwhile colleagues,fall into arms of friends we had lost touch with,do the usual exchange of visiting cards,network and raise a toast.
It was great fun and by the end of the evening we had all found people who we shared experiences with, and across Mumbai a thousand odd people touched base and stayed connected well after the party was over.
It took so little to experience so much.
Actually not,its was an invite that came too late but promised to be interesting so why not go over and check it out.Interesting it was,the rest of my weekend also turned out to be great fun and I let my hair down after ages.
The party was a reunion of sorts.Normally reunions are confined to school and college but this one was different in every way.
To begin with it was the brainchild of three or four people who had worked in a company for the better part of their lives.They discovered that most of what they had learnt in their professional lives could be attributed to the culture of this company they had worked for.As discussions progressed they discovered that there were hoards of people who had done exactly what they had,spent around 15 to 20 years with one company,grew up the ranks,shared the many ups and downs of corporate life and lived to enjoy every moment until one fine day the culture changed and everything else with it so at different points people left to greener pastures.Some left in haste,some in anger,some with warmth,some with respect but a lot of people made a shift.
Over the years a single common cord bound a lot of us,we had the common experience of this company and we had built long lasting relationships.Strangely the entire experience revolved around one person.All of us related to this person in different ways.He was the leader.Some of us quaked in our shoes when he arrives,some of us lit up when he was around,but whatever the experience we loved,admired and respected this person so much and benefited from our experiences so well that a reunion seemed like a fitting occasion to meet and chat.
It was slated to start at 8pm on Friday but like the unwritten code in Mumbai we all arrived fashionably late.We had changed in many ways but the group had many high achievers.People who head businesses around the country,entrepreneurs,home makers etc.It was a formidable pool of talent,it was also a formidable pool of people who knew how to have a good time,share a laugh,yell scream,sing and generally go a bit wild.
In the semi dark environment with the background of thumping music we managed to recognise erstwhile colleagues,fall into arms of friends we had lost touch with,do the usual exchange of visiting cards,network and raise a toast.
It was great fun and by the end of the evening we had all found people who we shared experiences with, and across Mumbai a thousand odd people touched base and stayed connected well after the party was over.
It took so little to experience so much.
Monday, April 30, 2007
my wonderful life
She is with me in a painting class,I don't even know her name but for some reason she talks to me.about her life,her unhappiness,her in laws.She is young and been married for six months and needs to talk so I let her.I am half listening,as the drawing needs all my attention.She has asked me little details about my life and finds it interesting but I am a private person so the details I give her are few and far between,but the psychologist in me comes out so I give her bits that will keep her faith in life and its difficulties.
She asked if I could drop her on the way home, so we get into the car.She thought I was making a career of drawing and was surprised when I told her it was a hobby,something I wanted to do for the fun of it.Suddenly out of the blue she says "you have a wonderful life".No one ever said that to me.Its the kind of thing I think of other lives but it made me think.Was my life wonderful.Actually all said and done it is.
Freedom,that's something that's important to me and I have never had to compromise on that,freedom to say what I want to say,to act and do what I want to do.Marriage hasn't changed that.I hear a lot of women tell me that "my husband lets me do this or that".I don't believe that's freedom.You do what you want and no ones gives you permission,that's not freedom.
I don't have to do all the jobs at home,work is divided.I have handled my in laws on my own out of choice.I would hate it if a son or daughter took the side of their wives or husbands so I handle my mom in law my way and the husband stays out of it.Its come to a stage when I know more family gossip than he does.This with all the difference of culture,religion et al.
I read all the time and he watches TV all the time but we communicate,don't ask me when but we do.He nags me about a messy house and ends up cleaning it himself.Hes a better housekeeper and I am a damn good cook.
At work I am given a free hand or in funny situations I manage the boss.The heavy mascara and a well drawn pout didn't work in my case,so my smooth talk gets it all going.
I managed the parents too.In the days when I wanted to party,I could walk in with the milk man and get away with it.My mother brushed it away with "oh we have to change with the times"
I thought of all this and realised how important all of these little things were,what would I do if it were all taken away,would I be unhappy like that girl in my class.Would I look at someones life and wish it were mine.I don't know,I cant understand what she must be going through.I am an outsider who knows nothing of her life but she talks all the time,she needs to.Its safe.Its her way of getting it out of her system and I offer no advice.I am a sounding board and very happy to be of help.But she has made me thankful for my wonderful life.
She asked if I could drop her on the way home, so we get into the car.She thought I was making a career of drawing and was surprised when I told her it was a hobby,something I wanted to do for the fun of it.Suddenly out of the blue she says "you have a wonderful life".No one ever said that to me.Its the kind of thing I think of other lives but it made me think.Was my life wonderful.Actually all said and done it is.
Freedom,that's something that's important to me and I have never had to compromise on that,freedom to say what I want to say,to act and do what I want to do.Marriage hasn't changed that.I hear a lot of women tell me that "my husband lets me do this or that".I don't believe that's freedom.You do what you want and no ones gives you permission,that's not freedom.
I don't have to do all the jobs at home,work is divided.I have handled my in laws on my own out of choice.I would hate it if a son or daughter took the side of their wives or husbands so I handle my mom in law my way and the husband stays out of it.Its come to a stage when I know more family gossip than he does.This with all the difference of culture,religion et al.
I read all the time and he watches TV all the time but we communicate,don't ask me when but we do.He nags me about a messy house and ends up cleaning it himself.Hes a better housekeeper and I am a damn good cook.
At work I am given a free hand or in funny situations I manage the boss.The heavy mascara and a well drawn pout didn't work in my case,so my smooth talk gets it all going.
I managed the parents too.In the days when I wanted to party,I could walk in with the milk man and get away with it.My mother brushed it away with "oh we have to change with the times"
I thought of all this and realised how important all of these little things were,what would I do if it were all taken away,would I be unhappy like that girl in my class.Would I look at someones life and wish it were mine.I don't know,I cant understand what she must be going through.I am an outsider who knows nothing of her life but she talks all the time,she needs to.Its safe.Its her way of getting it out of her system and I offer no advice.I am a sounding board and very happy to be of help.But she has made me thankful for my wonderful life.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
litterbugs
We have two lovely parks in the neighbourhood.One is large and filled with trees and some of us who have grown up in the area cut our teeth in this place.There is a regular play area for kids,fountains and walking track.Outside every vendor worth his salt is selling everything which he believes a health conscious person will buy.Thanks to all the birds,the park has a familiar smell of bird pooh
The new and smaller park is a bit more modern.It has a skating rink,tennis courts with coach and walking track.It also has timings and no trees,just well manicured lawns and flowers on all sides.
I walk there in the mornings and its an interesting place.For starters,everyone who walks is above 40 at least.All of them are fat in varying degrees and almost all of them including myself are plugged in and in our own world.There are hoards of anxious and ambitious parents keeping an eye of their wards,hoping I thing to see them in the next Olympics.Each child on the rink is clad in lycra,elbow pads,knee pads,helmets,the works.Each parent has a bag of goodies,water bottles and are busy comparing notes with other parents.The car park is full of fancy cars.
The men of the tennis court are all overweight but I marvel at the speed with which they run across the court and toss the ball.Not bad at all.One man is a regular on the lawns and irrespective of the sound and fury around him,he is deep in his yoga.
I watch all this while I walk and listen to music,my mind is slotting people and trying to understand them.They seem educated,well heeled and reasonably affluent.This morning I couldn't enjoy my walk.Suddenly it struck me.The park was dirty,full of empty plastic packs,chocolate wrappers,used water bottles and no one cared,no one seemed to notice.I saw a kid throw stuff onto the ground and parents let them do it.The lovely park was becoming a dump yard.I looked around and wondered why this seemingly educated ,well heeled lot didn't stop to think about their surroundings.We crib about poor people in slums rubbishing the place around them,are we any better.I think we are a lot worse.We seem so caught up in our own world that we don't think twice about what we do.Stuff that wrapper into the same pocket as the Ipod and drop it into the bin at home.If we all did that that park will still be the lovely place it is meant to be.When will we ever learn.
The new and smaller park is a bit more modern.It has a skating rink,tennis courts with coach and walking track.It also has timings and no trees,just well manicured lawns and flowers on all sides.
I walk there in the mornings and its an interesting place.For starters,everyone who walks is above 40 at least.All of them are fat in varying degrees and almost all of them including myself are plugged in and in our own world.There are hoards of anxious and ambitious parents keeping an eye of their wards,hoping I thing to see them in the next Olympics.Each child on the rink is clad in lycra,elbow pads,knee pads,helmets,the works.Each parent has a bag of goodies,water bottles and are busy comparing notes with other parents.The car park is full of fancy cars.
The men of the tennis court are all overweight but I marvel at the speed with which they run across the court and toss the ball.Not bad at all.One man is a regular on the lawns and irrespective of the sound and fury around him,he is deep in his yoga.
I watch all this while I walk and listen to music,my mind is slotting people and trying to understand them.They seem educated,well heeled and reasonably affluent.This morning I couldn't enjoy my walk.Suddenly it struck me.The park was dirty,full of empty plastic packs,chocolate wrappers,used water bottles and no one cared,no one seemed to notice.I saw a kid throw stuff onto the ground and parents let them do it.The lovely park was becoming a dump yard.I looked around and wondered why this seemingly educated ,well heeled lot didn't stop to think about their surroundings.We crib about poor people in slums rubbishing the place around them,are we any better.I think we are a lot worse.We seem so caught up in our own world that we don't think twice about what we do.Stuff that wrapper into the same pocket as the Ipod and drop it into the bin at home.If we all did that that park will still be the lovely place it is meant to be.When will we ever learn.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
what for instance
Security men,accountants,cooks,maids and sundry others.There seems to be a common DNA to all of these.Why for instance does a security guard watch with great interest while you struggle to squeeze your car into the only available space,only to pop up and tell you that you cant park in that place.Didn't he see you struggle with all that wrestling with the wheel or was it some pleasure he got out of it.
Why for instance do maids insist on bunking work on Sunday when that's the one day you want to do nothing.I have stoped looking forward to weekends.The maid will not turn up the washing will pile up and when its time for a hot cup of tea the cook would have also done the bunk so there you are ,cooking and cleaning till the cows come home.Isn't it perfect how guests also decide to turn up just then.
Why for instance does the plumber,carpenter and electrician swear to come at ten in the morning and then turn up when they feel like it ,if at all.Why for instance do we have to bunk work and wait patiently for these people when they have scant regard for your time.
Why for instance does the water tanker and the state transport bus believe they own the road,and that the small guy on the bike or car is meant to be run down.
Why for instance do courier boys always ask for identity when they deliver mail addressed to you at your home.They also ask for your relationship to other members of the household.I have taken to claiming to be the housekeeper and considering most of the boys haven't a clue if this means wife,mistress or general dogsbody,the conversation ends right there.
Why for instance am I agonising over all this when I know for sure that if all of them behaved differently I may feel lost and out of place in this world.I just wonder
Why for instance do maids insist on bunking work on Sunday when that's the one day you want to do nothing.I have stoped looking forward to weekends.The maid will not turn up the washing will pile up and when its time for a hot cup of tea the cook would have also done the bunk so there you are ,cooking and cleaning till the cows come home.Isn't it perfect how guests also decide to turn up just then.
Why for instance does the plumber,carpenter and electrician swear to come at ten in the morning and then turn up when they feel like it ,if at all.Why for instance do we have to bunk work and wait patiently for these people when they have scant regard for your time.
Why for instance does the water tanker and the state transport bus believe they own the road,and that the small guy on the bike or car is meant to be run down.
Why for instance do courier boys always ask for identity when they deliver mail addressed to you at your home.They also ask for your relationship to other members of the household.I have taken to claiming to be the housekeeper and considering most of the boys haven't a clue if this means wife,mistress or general dogsbody,the conversation ends right there.
Why for instance am I agonising over all this when I know for sure that if all of them behaved differently I may feel lost and out of place in this world.I just wonder
Friday, April 20, 2007
my affair with mallu food
Almost all the ingredients in my kitchen are imported (OK not trying to sound snobbish and its not imported from some fancy country).Since childhood its been a done thing to get all our spices from Kerala.School holidays were spent in remote places on Keralas backwaters and with the sun beating down on us we would collect fresh ripe peppers straight from the plant,help spread them out on mats to dry in the sun and watch them turn to good black peppers in a few days.The aroma of peppers always brings back childhood memories.The thinks we dried were cocoa pods,coffee beans besides peppers.Then we pealed the bark of the cinnamon tree and plucked cloves from the tress,crawled on all fours in mud to pluck fresh cardamom.This was the spice of life.
We also learnt to make fresh butter.I was always up early to catch my aunts churn the milk and skim the fresh butter with jack fruit leaves turned to spoons.Everything was magically fresh.That done the pots were hung up from the roof.Cows had to be milked,brown eggs had to be fetched.I learnt to wait at the chicken coup for the swak of the hen and knew the right moment to get at the eggs.
My uncle now 90 and doing well for himself,figured that I was ever ready to learn.He took me fishing to the river.No fancy fishing tackle.He made me dig up earthworms,string
them on to some wire (nylon I think) and fasten all this to some thin sticks I could find.(plenty by the river side).He would insist that I keep very still and not talk,fish he said will be disturbed.I did manage to haul in a few but had to throw them right back.Small fish would deplete the stock so we were not allowed to take them home.
When we were done with fishing it would get cooked in a nice earthen pot over a freshly made fire and while the pot with its fish simmered and boiled,we threw cashew nuts into the fire,pulled them out with our bare hands and cracked them up to get at the nuts.We turned black with the effort but nothing that some good coconut oil couldn't cure.
The lessons learnt in childhood were so impressive that to this day I import all my spices from Kerala preferably garden fresh.Not for me the spices from the supermarket.My earthen pots come from Kerala too and if it breaks we don't get fish curry, but nothing will make me use a metal vessel for fish.Kokum is still couriered from Kerala.Its funny that not living in that state,hasnt dimed the allure of mallu food. My malayalam is far from great,I hardly ever go back but for me the trill of shopping in a Kerala village is the highlight of my short trips that happen once in a whilel Coconut oil,coconuts,peppers,spices,these are my favourite things,this is what my kitchen is full of this is what is cooking for me.The aroma wafting from a cooking pot brings back a thousand memories.No words can explain my love affair with food.
We also learnt to make fresh butter.I was always up early to catch my aunts churn the milk and skim the fresh butter with jack fruit leaves turned to spoons.Everything was magically fresh.That done the pots were hung up from the roof.Cows had to be milked,brown eggs had to be fetched.I learnt to wait at the chicken coup for the swak of the hen and knew the right moment to get at the eggs.
My uncle now 90 and doing well for himself,figured that I was ever ready to learn.He took me fishing to the river.No fancy fishing tackle.He made me dig up earthworms,string
them on to some wire (nylon I think) and fasten all this to some thin sticks I could find.(plenty by the river side).He would insist that I keep very still and not talk,fish he said will be disturbed.I did manage to haul in a few but had to throw them right back.Small fish would deplete the stock so we were not allowed to take them home.
When we were done with fishing it would get cooked in a nice earthen pot over a freshly made fire and while the pot with its fish simmered and boiled,we threw cashew nuts into the fire,pulled them out with our bare hands and cracked them up to get at the nuts.We turned black with the effort but nothing that some good coconut oil couldn't cure.
The lessons learnt in childhood were so impressive that to this day I import all my spices from Kerala preferably garden fresh.Not for me the spices from the supermarket.My earthen pots come from Kerala too and if it breaks we don't get fish curry, but nothing will make me use a metal vessel for fish.Kokum is still couriered from Kerala.Its funny that not living in that state,hasnt dimed the allure of mallu food. My malayalam is far from great,I hardly ever go back but for me the trill of shopping in a Kerala village is the highlight of my short trips that happen once in a whilel Coconut oil,coconuts,peppers,spices,these are my favourite things,this is what my kitchen is full of this is what is cooking for me.The aroma wafting from a cooking pot brings back a thousand memories.No words can explain my love affair with food.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
ball games,husbands and me
Cricket is one game I dislike.Actually I am no great sports person so game playing of any kind is alien territory.Nevertheless its cricket that affects my life.Its the world cup season and suddenly my days are filled with only me.The husband has been lost to cricket.All conversations start with "hey I am hungry,is dinner ready yet?"",switch off the light","hush talk to me after this over."Excuse me I need to talk now.What I have to say is important.Hey this is a question of life and death.No response.For almost close to a month this has been the extent of conversation in our house so the parents are called...."anything important?,we are watching an exciting cricket match".So much for that....turn to friends...no luck there either.
Some things have benefited from my plight.The library has been making a lot of money out of me,my plants are looking a lot healthier(i have been talking to them).Our dining table groans with food.(i have been cooking till I am tired)
Some people have not had it so good...my office for instance.If your top dog then there are thing one can do and get away with like non stop talking about any subject,the poor staff haven't a choice but to listen and nod....hey I like being the boss.
Some things have benefited from my plight.The library has been making a lot of money out of me,my plants are looking a lot healthier(i have been talking to them).Our dining table groans with food.(i have been cooking till I am tired)
Some people have not had it so good...my office for instance.If your top dog then there are thing one can do and get away with like non stop talking about any subject,the poor staff haven't a choice but to listen and nod....hey I like being the boss.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
running
I have been running.Actually if that was true in the physical sense it may have done me a world of good,unfortunately I am restless and need to be part of everything that goes on around me.My first project was to take my 86 year old dad for a haircut.For some reason (I suspect it had something to do with style) he turned down my offer to cut his hair.Considering he hardly ever goes out I cannot understand the need to be fashionable now.Well it turns out to be a production.On goes his hat from England that the eldest daughter got for him and which he never fails to wear and his outdoor clothes and we are ready to roll.He hates the fact that I want to hold his hand because I am terrified that he will fall but then that's my dad.
When I have finally got him home its the turn of my mother.She loves her chicken puffs and sundry other snacks and her method of getting them all is to assign responsibilities.So while I get the puffs,my sister will get her tea from the estates,my nephew will get her chocolates.(hes the grandson so cant refuse this forbidden fruit despite knowing that she is diabetic)
That's the story of the parents.The next agenda is to get another nephew into college.Not my responsibility at all but like I said earlier,nosy Parker me cant sit still.Been planting ideas in his head on career plans though I have no clue myself as to what young people do with themselves nowadays.
The last but not the least is my little effort to save the environment so I walk to buy bread and have expanded my balcony garden and now the plant have taken over and there is no place for us to stand and watch the world go by but I hope this saves the planet.After all it takes small steps to get the big picture.
Till I think up the next thing to keep running perhaps I should pour myself a stiff Johnny walker and think about keeping on walking....
When I have finally got him home its the turn of my mother.She loves her chicken puffs and sundry other snacks and her method of getting them all is to assign responsibilities.So while I get the puffs,my sister will get her tea from the estates,my nephew will get her chocolates.(hes the grandson so cant refuse this forbidden fruit despite knowing that she is diabetic)
That's the story of the parents.The next agenda is to get another nephew into college.Not my responsibility at all but like I said earlier,nosy Parker me cant sit still.Been planting ideas in his head on career plans though I have no clue myself as to what young people do with themselves nowadays.
The last but not the least is my little effort to save the environment so I walk to buy bread and have expanded my balcony garden and now the plant have taken over and there is no place for us to stand and watch the world go by but I hope this saves the planet.After all it takes small steps to get the big picture.
Till I think up the next thing to keep running perhaps I should pour myself a stiff Johnny walker and think about keeping on walking....
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
childhood friends
It started with a 16 year old boy.He insists on sharing his life stories with me and I listen and ask questions just to amuse him.So on one of these occasions I wondered if his mother was a friend of mine from school so after a bit,I spoke to another friend and found out that the person I was thinking of never had a son.It should have ended there but as conversation do,one thing led to another and I discovered that one friend from school was in town.Ten years of being out of touch and suddenly I was busy trying to locate her and thanks to technology we met.
Memories have a knack of pouring into the mind at such a fast pace that I find it difficult to keep track so over lunch we caught up on ten years in two hours.Its very much like a web.One contact leads to another and we find that almost all of our friends have a link in some place or the other,we join the links and end up knowing half the world.We discover things about ourselves that we have forgotten.
You used to draw so well she says.Another friend has a stack of my drawings which she shared with her children.Couldn't believe I did all of those and life has become busy and one has forgotten ones talents.I discovered I had a sense of humour (haven't laughed in years) I was always stuck in a book,could talk the hind legs off a donkey and was scatty brained among other things.I was a fun person actually and I don't remember.It takes a friend of childhood past to rekindle all those forgotten passions.
Today I draw again.My pencil run over paper with rapid speed and ideas translate to pictures.It take someone to force you to remember and in the mad pace of life its nice to rediscover oneself
Thank god for childhood and school and friends and technology.
Memories have a knack of pouring into the mind at such a fast pace that I find it difficult to keep track so over lunch we caught up on ten years in two hours.Its very much like a web.One contact leads to another and we find that almost all of our friends have a link in some place or the other,we join the links and end up knowing half the world.We discover things about ourselves that we have forgotten.
You used to draw so well she says.Another friend has a stack of my drawings which she shared with her children.Couldn't believe I did all of those and life has become busy and one has forgotten ones talents.I discovered I had a sense of humour (haven't laughed in years) I was always stuck in a book,could talk the hind legs off a donkey and was scatty brained among other things.I was a fun person actually and I don't remember.It takes a friend of childhood past to rekindle all those forgotten passions.
Today I draw again.My pencil run over paper with rapid speed and ideas translate to pictures.It take someone to force you to remember and in the mad pace of life its nice to rediscover oneself
Thank god for childhood and school and friends and technology.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
beckys fish pickle
Fish pickle
fish of any kind
garlic-a few pods depending on your love of garlic.
green chillies-a couple finely sliced.
whole mustard
oil
vinegar
ginger-cut into small pieces
salt to taste
sugar
whole mustard pounded
chillie power
cut fish into small pieces and marinate in Chile power and salt and keep aside for half an hour
heat oil and fry fish to a good brown.Keep aside.
In the remaining oil,splutter mustard,add ginger,garlic,green chillies and saute for a few minutes.Lower flame or switch off and let the oil turn warm instead of hot.Add chillie power,fried fish salt,sugar,pounded mustard and vinegar.Make sure the oil and vinegar are almost equal and cover the fish.
keep for a few days to allow the fish to soak up the masala and then its too yummy to keep.
Just eat as much as you can with bread,rice or just plain.
fish of any kind
garlic-a few pods depending on your love of garlic.
green chillies-a couple finely sliced.
whole mustard
oil
vinegar
ginger-cut into small pieces
salt to taste
sugar
whole mustard pounded
chillie power
cut fish into small pieces and marinate in Chile power and salt and keep aside for half an hour
heat oil and fry fish to a good brown.Keep aside.
In the remaining oil,splutter mustard,add ginger,garlic,green chillies and saute for a few minutes.Lower flame or switch off and let the oil turn warm instead of hot.Add chillie power,fried fish salt,sugar,pounded mustard and vinegar.Make sure the oil and vinegar are almost equal and cover the fish.
keep for a few days to allow the fish to soak up the masala and then its too yummy to keep.
Just eat as much as you can with bread,rice or just plain.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
traffic rules
We live in a city where a new lane system has come into effect on one of the main roads.For those of us not used to discipline this is a big problem,trying to remember which lane to stay on.
This is India,we don't follow the rules,we are a country with so many people so we simply have to be whizzing along just to save time.Well so most of us think but the harried cop who is on duty doesn't think so.
Its been a constant source of amusement for us at office.Our window overlooks the main road and we watch with interest as the one who want to follow rules struggle to stay on course,In between all this traffic there are all those chaps on motorbikes who refuse to obey the rules so they weave in and out.The cop in the meanwhile is not sure if he has to direct traffic,book the offender or simply hold a placard.So for the last three days there have been constant announcements on the rules and how we should follow them
Well all said and done this is India,this is Chennai.What would life be if we all followed the rules?It wouldn't be Chennai would it?
This is India,we don't follow the rules,we are a country with so many people so we simply have to be whizzing along just to save time.Well so most of us think but the harried cop who is on duty doesn't think so.
Its been a constant source of amusement for us at office.Our window overlooks the main road and we watch with interest as the one who want to follow rules struggle to stay on course,In between all this traffic there are all those chaps on motorbikes who refuse to obey the rules so they weave in and out.The cop in the meanwhile is not sure if he has to direct traffic,book the offender or simply hold a placard.So for the last three days there have been constant announcements on the rules and how we should follow them
Well all said and done this is India,this is Chennai.What would life be if we all followed the rules?It wouldn't be Chennai would it?
fish curry my style
Ingrediants
fresh fish-a few good pieces
fresh ginger-1/2 inch julienned
curry leaves-4 to 5
kokum(kind of tamarind found in Kerala in south India)-3 to 4 pieces
corriander power-1 teaspoon
chillie power-3 teaspoons
coconut oil-3 to 4 tablespoons
salt to taste
clay pot-to cook in
water-3 cups
method
Heat oil in pot to a simmer,add ginger,curryleaves and saute for a minute.Add coriander power and continue to fry withour burning it (it shouldnt turn black),add chillie power and continue to saute,preferably on low heat.When one has sneezed a bit and coughed a bit,the masala is ready so add water.Bring to a boil and add the fish.let it continue to cook for about 10 minutes and add the kokum.Lower heat and simmer gently until the curry is a lovely think consistency.Add salt to taste.
As a final twist,drizzle some coconut oil for that perfect look.
Perfect with staeamed rice.
fresh fish-a few good pieces
fresh ginger-1/2 inch julienned
curry leaves-4 to 5
kokum(kind of tamarind found in Kerala in south India)-3 to 4 pieces
corriander power-1 teaspoon
chillie power-3 teaspoons
coconut oil-3 to 4 tablespoons
salt to taste
clay pot-to cook in
water-3 cups
method
Heat oil in pot to a simmer,add ginger,curryleaves and saute for a minute.Add coriander power and continue to fry withour burning it (it shouldnt turn black),add chillie power and continue to saute,preferably on low heat.When one has sneezed a bit and coughed a bit,the masala is ready so add water.Bring to a boil and add the fish.let it continue to cook for about 10 minutes and add the kokum.Lower heat and simmer gently until the curry is a lovely think consistency.Add salt to taste.
As a final twist,drizzle some coconut oil for that perfect look.
Perfect with staeamed rice.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
IPod and me
Its 2007 and I have finally got myself the ultimate fashion statement (or so I am told).Four years ago on a hot Spanish evening in Madrid,my friend and I searched every shop worth its salt for this little gadget that was the ultimate must have for his daughter.Considering my friend was a few years older than me,it fell on me to take the decision on the Ipod that we were to buy for the daughter.
Our problems started with the name itself.Belonging as we did to the 60s,we are a little clueless on technology and an ipod was way beyond what we knew.But for the average 16 year old this was a piece of cake.To ask for any specifics would put us in the class of the dumb and dumber so we didn't.
At the shop we were asked if we wanted a 2gb,4,gb or 8 gb one,would we like and ipod or an ipod nano.First hurdle...gb.How on earth were we to know that this was a memory yardstick.In our limited knowledge gb was great Britain so were we looking for a made in UK tab.Obviously not.When we did get around to it the question was what was the difference for heavens sake.We ofcourse resorted to time and tested method.So tick tack two....and hey there we were,it had to be 2 gb and oh yes a nano.It just looked better so we guessed the glam quotient had to be taken care of.Great said the shop assistant,that would mean you can store 500 songs.Wow we heaved in collected sighs.That was a lot of music (not by teenage standards).So with our purchase tucked away in a nice apple bag with it half eaten apple and all we arrived back home.
One would have thought we would get a bit of appreciation,but since when did 16 years old ever appreciate anything we oldies did.She looked at it murmured a thanks and got on the phone to her friends.
Oh dear,can you believe it they got me a 2gb nano.Trust them to goof.Why do they have the money to go abroad.Couldnt they just save us and them all the trouble and get us to do the techi shopping....sigh sigh,what with parents and their friends.
well four years on I am writing this with the 2gb ipod nano firmly in my years and listening to 50s and 60s musicNot bad at all in my opinion.I have managed to download music,use itunes,talk intelligently on the ipod and better yet,I also know that Steve jobs is a person,if he quits then apple shares will drop,also that apple is more a lifestyle company with lifestyle gadgets and yes I have just got myself the ultimate fashion accessory.
Talk of being smug.The kids were right,this is a real neat gadget and I just love it.
Our problems started with the name itself.Belonging as we did to the 60s,we are a little clueless on technology and an ipod was way beyond what we knew.But for the average 16 year old this was a piece of cake.To ask for any specifics would put us in the class of the dumb and dumber so we didn't.
At the shop we were asked if we wanted a 2gb,4,gb or 8 gb one,would we like and ipod or an ipod nano.First hurdle...gb.How on earth were we to know that this was a memory yardstick.In our limited knowledge gb was great Britain so were we looking for a made in UK tab.Obviously not.When we did get around to it the question was what was the difference for heavens sake.We ofcourse resorted to time and tested method.So tick tack two....and hey there we were,it had to be 2 gb and oh yes a nano.It just looked better so we guessed the glam quotient had to be taken care of.Great said the shop assistant,that would mean you can store 500 songs.Wow we heaved in collected sighs.That was a lot of music (not by teenage standards).So with our purchase tucked away in a nice apple bag with it half eaten apple and all we arrived back home.
One would have thought we would get a bit of appreciation,but since when did 16 years old ever appreciate anything we oldies did.She looked at it murmured a thanks and got on the phone to her friends.
Oh dear,can you believe it they got me a 2gb nano.Trust them to goof.Why do they have the money to go abroad.Couldnt they just save us and them all the trouble and get us to do the techi shopping....sigh sigh,what with parents and their friends.
well four years on I am writing this with the 2gb ipod nano firmly in my years and listening to 50s and 60s musicNot bad at all in my opinion.I have managed to download music,use itunes,talk intelligently on the ipod and better yet,I also know that Steve jobs is a person,if he quits then apple shares will drop,also that apple is more a lifestyle company with lifestyle gadgets and yes I have just got myself the ultimate fashion accessory.
Talk of being smug.The kids were right,this is a real neat gadget and I just love it.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
It all comes around
stories and things
Life they say has a way of going full circle.For years now I have hounded my parents about healthy eating.Gone on about how walking is good for them as they grow older etc.As the years went by I did my yoga on and off,worked out when I felt like it and kept going.From thin to slim is ok,then it went to fat and one gets used to the ohs and ahs about how much weight I had gained till one day in desperation I said thank you to someone after that common comment and they stopped.
Yet somewhere I began to feel myself loose control over my body.Its a scary feeling of something creeping up on you so one fine day before rational thought could hit,off I went to the clinic and got myself checked.It was perfect in every way except for the weight.Where had all this come from,why didn't I notice so did denial take me so far and so close to a complete disaster?.
The doctor said I could choose to go to another one if I didn't like his rules.Well let have it straight I said and didn't like it one bit.
He took everything out of my life that was worth eating and walking is a must he said.Dinner came around and I settled down to whole wheat bread and soup.The one good thing about being a foodie is that I learned along the way to cook with whatever I had so there I was cooking up some interesting looking dish.
Did anyone say life was easy.Well I didn't quiet realize how tough this all was.That night I dreamt of suckling pig,apple struddle,juicy cooked prawns and I wept in despair.
This is only the beginning but like all things in life here was a chance to change despair to opportunity,so I am going to be cooking to a different tune.The opportunity to create is still mine and while I walk I shall conjure the wildest dishes that can be baked grilled and eaten.
Life they say has a way of going full circle.For years now I have hounded my parents about healthy eating.Gone on about how walking is good for them as they grow older etc.As the years went by I did my yoga on and off,worked out when I felt like it and kept going.From thin to slim is ok,then it went to fat and one gets used to the ohs and ahs about how much weight I had gained till one day in desperation I said thank you to someone after that common comment and they stopped.
Yet somewhere I began to feel myself loose control over my body.Its a scary feeling of something creeping up on you so one fine day before rational thought could hit,off I went to the clinic and got myself checked.It was perfect in every way except for the weight.Where had all this come from,why didn't I notice so did denial take me so far and so close to a complete disaster?.
The doctor said I could choose to go to another one if I didn't like his rules.Well let have it straight I said and didn't like it one bit.
He took everything out of my life that was worth eating and walking is a must he said.Dinner came around and I settled down to whole wheat bread and soup.The one good thing about being a foodie is that I learned along the way to cook with whatever I had so there I was cooking up some interesting looking dish.
Did anyone say life was easy.Well I didn't quiet realize how tough this all was.That night I dreamt of suckling pig,apple struddle,juicy cooked prawns and I wept in despair.
This is only the beginning but like all things in life here was a chance to change despair to opportunity,so I am going to be cooking to a different tune.The opportunity to create is still mine and while I walk I shall conjure the wildest dishes that can be baked grilled and eaten.
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Those were the days
stories and things
being a typical 60s flower child or atlest having grown up on books,good fountain pens and music which didnt go much beyond the beatles and bob dylyn,its difficult to understand the world wide web.Blogging is a new word,a new world and having to remember passwords and stuff is really touch.Do all my generation feel this way.Well a large numebr of my friends do.
Twenty years after we left college,some bright spark decided to have a reunion of the batch of 82 so without much ado all of us who were in some ways accessable,were contacted and lunch happened.
Did the hotel even fathome the kind of guest they were expecting?Obviously not,for if they had any clue we would have been refused entry.
Fifteen fourty five year old women trooped into the dining hall in various shapes and sizes.Some well kept,some gone to seed and some almost on the verge of giving up.Most of us had changed but one single charertisitc that hadnt was our ability to creat a noise.For two hours we yelled and shouted over each others heads,eager to catch up on the latest news or rater the news of the last 20 years.Some had been in touch oftner but nevertheless we regaled each other of our college girl crushes,our parents angst,the manner in which we drove our professors crazy etc.Some of us had grown up children some were not married(the lucky ones as we choose to brand them) and some were highfliers with interesting jobs.
Yet for those two hours we were just a bunch of 20 yearolds reliving our great days in college which clearly made us the women we are today.
being a typical 60s flower child or atlest having grown up on books,good fountain pens and music which didnt go much beyond the beatles and bob dylyn,its difficult to understand the world wide web.Blogging is a new word,a new world and having to remember passwords and stuff is really touch.Do all my generation feel this way.Well a large numebr of my friends do.
Twenty years after we left college,some bright spark decided to have a reunion of the batch of 82 so without much ado all of us who were in some ways accessable,were contacted and lunch happened.
Did the hotel even fathome the kind of guest they were expecting?Obviously not,for if they had any clue we would have been refused entry.
Fifteen fourty five year old women trooped into the dining hall in various shapes and sizes.Some well kept,some gone to seed and some almost on the verge of giving up.Most of us had changed but one single charertisitc that hadnt was our ability to creat a noise.For two hours we yelled and shouted over each others heads,eager to catch up on the latest news or rater the news of the last 20 years.Some had been in touch oftner but nevertheless we regaled each other of our college girl crushes,our parents angst,the manner in which we drove our professors crazy etc.Some of us had grown up children some were not married(the lucky ones as we choose to brand them) and some were highfliers with interesting jobs.
Yet for those two hours we were just a bunch of 20 yearolds reliving our great days in college which clearly made us the women we are today.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Like a beginning
One of those funny days when one is not sure if life is all about work or all about play.The kind of day when your mind is full of stuff and is it right to leave it there or download it and get it out of ones system and make way for more stuff to fill ones head.
Looks like it was time to do something so started a blog.Thanks to email I seem to have lost the art of writing down things so typing seems so much easier.Then when the blog is actually created the pressure to write begins so I put down random thoughts and hope that this is the beginning of some creative writing.
Funny that when I sit down to put thoughts it just happens that my fingers do the writing so what do I do.It all started with the stress of looking after old parents.Much as you love them there are times when the need to escape into a little world of the make believe becomes so important.Reading help in some ways and then I wonder why not put it all down.Who knows perhaps there is a story hidden in the recesses of my sub conscious.
So on one hot Indian summer I start this blog and will discover where this journey takes me.
Looks like it was time to do something so started a blog.Thanks to email I seem to have lost the art of writing down things so typing seems so much easier.Then when the blog is actually created the pressure to write begins so I put down random thoughts and hope that this is the beginning of some creative writing.
Funny that when I sit down to put thoughts it just happens that my fingers do the writing so what do I do.It all started with the stress of looking after old parents.Much as you love them there are times when the need to escape into a little world of the make believe becomes so important.Reading help in some ways and then I wonder why not put it all down.Who knows perhaps there is a story hidden in the recesses of my sub conscious.
So on one hot Indian summer I start this blog and will discover where this journey takes me.
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