Fear is a strange thing. It makes you helpless and cripples you. But somewhere in the midst of all that dread and weariness, there is amazing clarity. Clarity about what is most dear to you and what is most valuable to you. You fear loss. Loss of life, loss of security, loss of love, loss of freedom, loss of peace of mind. The less you are in control of a situation, the more you fear. The more you fear, the less you are in control. It's an experience. Specially the fear of something that you never envisaged, something that you never had a hand in but still threatens to ruin your sanctimonious existence. It’s a feeling of shock, then slow rationalization, then fear, then extreme fear, then spirituality and then some more fear. All interspersed with a zillion unwanted thoughts and another zillion rebellious, revengeful actions played out in the intricate map of a fearful mind.
I wish I could be age 1, and fearless again.
Friday 28 November, 2008
Wednesday 16 July, 2008
The lying mirror...
My carpenter is a mastermind. He had a strategic vision and foresight that even a Gary Hamel would applaud. The task: Get me a dressing table. Constraints: It should have inbuilt storage and must fit into the small corner allocated to it.
He gave me a nice looking dresser, with a full length oval mirror attached on the door. The door swings open to reveal a cabinet ready to be filled with the choiciest cosmetics that i would never use.
But the stroke of genius was this: The mirror was a slimming mirror! Look into it and you look 4 kgs lighter and 2 inches taller! No wonder i lived through all those cheese burst pizzas and felt nothing ever showed on me!!
As i look at myself in the office mirrors, i sigh and convince myself that these mirrors are clearly faulty...the only true mirror is the one on my dresser...no arguments please!
He gave me a nice looking dresser, with a full length oval mirror attached on the door. The door swings open to reveal a cabinet ready to be filled with the choiciest cosmetics that i would never use.
But the stroke of genius was this: The mirror was a slimming mirror! Look into it and you look 4 kgs lighter and 2 inches taller! No wonder i lived through all those cheese burst pizzas and felt nothing ever showed on me!!
As i look at myself in the office mirrors, i sigh and convince myself that these mirrors are clearly faulty...the only true mirror is the one on my dresser...no arguments please!
Wednesday 26 March, 2008
Born to eat!
Funny i haven't blogged about my passion for life... food... yet!
Rarely is found a person who truly believes that she is born to eat! Each morsel is divine...each spoonful...utter bliss!
You would find it difficult to believe, but I used to be a scrawny l'il kid. I puked out whatever went in, consistently, without fail, to the point of boring predictability...till about age 8. My parents sought opinions from various child specialists. Many tonics later, I still detested food! And then, suddenly, almost overnight, after my shift to Mumbai, better sense prevailed! I turned from loathing food to scavenging for it! I guess I had to make up for the first 8 years of my life... somehow, I'm still making up for them!!
My earliest memories of eating out are at Jaipur's family restaurants; breaking my first of a zillion 'naan's and digging into the wonder that is 'butter dripping pav bhaji' at the statue circle.
I think I officially started my love affair with food around age 12, when I used to come back from a mid semester exam, ravenous and craving for a solid brunch! Mom satiated my taste buds with an assortment of breads, eggs, milk and cheese, or idlis doused in hot sambhar or puttu-kadla (a mallu speciality). I developed a rather healthy appetite (for a girl!) and have heartily maintained it even now.
From then began a beautiful journey, of exploring different cuisines and savouring the tastes and flavours. I then learned to respect the different ingredients that go into any dish. Be it pumpkin or ginger, or the irritating kari patta that my mom just had to let seep into any and every dish she prepared. Every leaf, every seed had its magical presence felt. I developed some tastes along the way, like that of fish, or of brinjal, acquired tastes, both.
Here at DoMS Chennai, I was probably one of the few people who even over-ate in the mess! The gastronomic journey here was quite a memorable one. The all purpose Dhaba express and its tangdi kabab, or the Besant Nagar joints with its continental fare (Pupil, a favourite!), Annapurna, the abode of divine Bengali food, Tandoor and its quintessential classic sit-down dinner, the Residency buffet, Kumarakom’s mallu fare, Murugan idli’s amazing idlis or the ECR’s variegated joints beckoning one to partake of their fare under the azure sky: I will miss them all. Not to forget our pantry uncle’s tasty home made stuff that we sorely missed in our second year, or Tiffany’s coffee and Basera’s biriyani.
From what has been my humble experience in relishing even mundane items, I have come to philosophize about the very act of consuming food. Is there anything that parallels a hot paratha with dal makhani served with a dollop of butter or a steaming idli with an assortment of chutneys hot enough to burn an Andhra tongue? I think not. Food provides solace to all who turn to it. How many times have you binged on a chocolate fantasy when that heart got broken? And how many times did you get ready and attend the most boring party/wedding/gathering in hope of the free food? How many times did you celebrate with food? And how many times did you find comfort in it, comfort that no mortal being could bring to you?
Food is a great leveller… There is a vada pav vendor near Kirti college, Dadar, in Mumbai. He makes vada pavs that are simply out of this world. And to this small shanty like structure, come daily pilgrims of all sizes and shapes, rich and poor, in car and on foot, in Land Rovers and Indicas (they are the same family now, anyway), for the same purpose: to quell that insane craving for a vada pav out of this world.
Wherever you go, and whatever you become, that familiar rumbling in your stomach will bind you together with the billions and billions of others, tying you with a feeling that cuts across space and time.
Well, they say money can’t buy everything, but for gourmets (or gourmands) like me, money can certainly buy small pieces of heaven on earth!
Rarely is found a person who truly believes that she is born to eat! Each morsel is divine...each spoonful...utter bliss!
You would find it difficult to believe, but I used to be a scrawny l'il kid. I puked out whatever went in, consistently, without fail, to the point of boring predictability...till about age 8. My parents sought opinions from various child specialists. Many tonics later, I still detested food! And then, suddenly, almost overnight, after my shift to Mumbai, better sense prevailed! I turned from loathing food to scavenging for it! I guess I had to make up for the first 8 years of my life... somehow, I'm still making up for them!!
My earliest memories of eating out are at Jaipur's family restaurants; breaking my first of a zillion 'naan's and digging into the wonder that is 'butter dripping pav bhaji' at the statue circle.
I think I officially started my love affair with food around age 12, when I used to come back from a mid semester exam, ravenous and craving for a solid brunch! Mom satiated my taste buds with an assortment of breads, eggs, milk and cheese, or idlis doused in hot sambhar or puttu-kadla (a mallu speciality). I developed a rather healthy appetite (for a girl!) and have heartily maintained it even now.
From then began a beautiful journey, of exploring different cuisines and savouring the tastes and flavours. I then learned to respect the different ingredients that go into any dish. Be it pumpkin or ginger, or the irritating kari patta that my mom just had to let seep into any and every dish she prepared. Every leaf, every seed had its magical presence felt. I developed some tastes along the way, like that of fish, or of brinjal, acquired tastes, both.
Here at DoMS Chennai, I was probably one of the few people who even over-ate in the mess! The gastronomic journey here was quite a memorable one. The all purpose Dhaba express and its tangdi kabab, or the Besant Nagar joints with its continental fare (Pupil, a favourite!), Annapurna, the abode of divine Bengali food, Tandoor and its quintessential classic sit-down dinner, the Residency buffet, Kumarakom’s mallu fare, Murugan idli’s amazing idlis or the ECR’s variegated joints beckoning one to partake of their fare under the azure sky: I will miss them all. Not to forget our pantry uncle’s tasty home made stuff that we sorely missed in our second year, or Tiffany’s coffee and Basera’s biriyani.
From what has been my humble experience in relishing even mundane items, I have come to philosophize about the very act of consuming food. Is there anything that parallels a hot paratha with dal makhani served with a dollop of butter or a steaming idli with an assortment of chutneys hot enough to burn an Andhra tongue? I think not. Food provides solace to all who turn to it. How many times have you binged on a chocolate fantasy when that heart got broken? And how many times did you get ready and attend the most boring party/wedding/gathering in hope of the free food? How many times did you celebrate with food? And how many times did you find comfort in it, comfort that no mortal being could bring to you?
Food is a great leveller… There is a vada pav vendor near Kirti college, Dadar, in Mumbai. He makes vada pavs that are simply out of this world. And to this small shanty like structure, come daily pilgrims of all sizes and shapes, rich and poor, in car and on foot, in Land Rovers and Indicas (they are the same family now, anyway), for the same purpose: to quell that insane craving for a vada pav out of this world.
Wherever you go, and whatever you become, that familiar rumbling in your stomach will bind you together with the billions and billions of others, tying you with a feeling that cuts across space and time.
Well, they say money can’t buy everything, but for gourmets (or gourmands) like me, money can certainly buy small pieces of heaven on earth!
Tuesday 5 February, 2008
Some smiles make your day!
There are all kinds of smiles flashed at you in the course of a routine day. There is the customary, 'hi-i-got-no-time-to-stop-now' smile by a hurrying acquaintance. There is the 'hi-i-don't-know-your-name-so-i-just-smile' flashed by the girl who lives two doors away from you. There is the smile from the cute guy standing in a queue parallel to yours and then there is the knowing, wicked smile from your idiotic best friend who knows how to embarass you best!
And then there is a smile.. flashed by a pure heart, one that completely lifts your spirits and reminds you that the world is , well, not so cold after all! I saw such a smile in Sujatha, one of our hostel staff. Sujatha is someone who has a lot of problems of her own at home, yet she will always have a pleasant countenance and is ever ready to greet you with a smile at the hostel entrance. After a horrid day, filled with loathsome jargon and fiery arguments.. i came home ( yes hostel is home now) to find Sujatha flashing me an earnest smile, radiant and simple. That smile surely warmed the cockles of my heart. I smiled back and lo and behold, all the tensions of the day just evaporated.. seemed pointless. I went to bed smiling, dreaming of sunshine.
And then there is a smile.. flashed by a pure heart, one that completely lifts your spirits and reminds you that the world is , well, not so cold after all! I saw such a smile in Sujatha, one of our hostel staff. Sujatha is someone who has a lot of problems of her own at home, yet she will always have a pleasant countenance and is ever ready to greet you with a smile at the hostel entrance. After a horrid day, filled with loathsome jargon and fiery arguments.. i came home ( yes hostel is home now) to find Sujatha flashing me an earnest smile, radiant and simple. That smile surely warmed the cockles of my heart. I smiled back and lo and behold, all the tensions of the day just evaporated.. seemed pointless. I went to bed smiling, dreaming of sunshine.
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