"I think life should be more like tv. I think all of life's problems ought to be solved in 30 minutes with simple homilies, don't you? I think weight and oral hygiene ought to be our biggest concerns. I think we should all have powerful, high-paying jobs, and everyone should drive fancy sports cars. All our desires should be instantly gratified. Women should always wear tight clothes, and men should carry powerful handguns. Life overall should be more glamorous, thrill-packed, and filled with applause, don't you think?" - Calvin

Today, a day after my country celebrated its 62^nd Independence Day, I opened my front door to bring in the newspaper.

To my mild annoyance I found the Deccan Herald instead of the usual Sunday Times.

However, a flutter of nostalgia at the thought of Blondie the only comic strip I could understand as a 5 year old helped me overcome that annoyance as I settled down with my paper and a cup of chai.

At first glance I was relieved to see a picture of Shah Rukh Khan instead of a wedding picture or a smiling family portrait of the latest victim of Swine flu.

And then I read the headline beside the photograph –

Shah Rukh Khan detained at U.S. airport, freed.

The article highlighted yet another instance of Muslims being targeted by immigration and airport security at international airports. The previous case being that of former president Abdul Kalam.

At the time I skimmed through the article before something came up and I abandoned the paper for the rest of the day and forgot about the article.

When I got home later in the night dinner out with my friends I found the paper lying on my bed and was glad to have something to read before I fell asleep.

One article that particularly caught my attention was that of Nek Chand and his rock garden in Chandigarh. The road inspector by profession showed his sadness for the way his world was changing and the modern concrete Utopia that was becoming Chandigarh. Perhaps it was also his anguish at being part of a city that was soon becoming a symbol of modern independent India which was built on land where 20 villages once stood.

He collected bits of discarded rubble from the construction sites of Chandigarh to take to his chosen spot for the garden he was creating. He fused these bits of urban refuse with rock and pebble collected from a nearby river to create his haven. I think it was his own vision of Utopia where one does not need to make way for another.

As I cut out the article enjoying the simple pleasure of running a scissor through flimsy paper my mind was filled with thoughts of the necessity of balance in our world and the many ways we have strived to recognize it, achieve it, tried, failed or succeeded.

When the authorities found out about Nek Chand’s activities, illegal as they were, they took it upon themselves to commission the project and give him a full time job to complete the rock garden.

My thoughts wandered back to the front page article about Shah Rukh Khan and I cannot explain it well enough but I felt the same despair at what I read as I had felt about the 20 villages razed to make Chandigarh.

From an urban to rural, personal, family and social level, ecological, economical, city to planetary level are what we are gaining worth the loss?

Is the indiscriminate bias towards brown people, Asians, Muslims in particular in the modern world and the Western countries in really making the world a safer place?

Is the assurance of safety worth all the goodwill and trust lost on all sides?

Has any discrimination ever made the world a safer place?

Have we considered to stop whining and co operate every time we are frisked or our bags are turned inside out even when we enter a movie hall?

Have all the acts of terrorism by some people elevated their status in the world? Got them respect? Made their children happy individuals and free?

How can the president of France condemn a woman’s personal choice to cover herself to head to toe when most people of that country would probably not bat an eyelid at a nude woman in their midst? Is he reflecting the liberal views and advanced culture of his people?

How can the many harsh words and actions done in a fit of frustration to someone you love ever be justified? Have those words made a difference to your life? Has it changed for the better?

A staggering amount of the taxpayer’s money is spent and in a few years the country as a whole runs like a well oiled machine as elections are held in the largest democracy in the world.

What is the point when nothing else seems to work the rest of the time?

Is it ironic or is it just me but doesn’t democracy finally come down to 1 person and how they choose to conduct themselves?

The government of Chandigarh could have demolished Nek Chand’s rock garden and persecuted him for using his position to obtain material and land for the rock garden. They chose instead to recognize and honour his sentiment and today the Nek Chand foundation has projects world wide and people like me see a part of our own lament woven into these gardens and find some comfort in its beauty.

Are we getting too anal for our own good? Is it just a matter of time before we stifle ourselves too much?

Today I believe that every person has the choice and every person has the ability to take a minute to make that choice and find a balance in their actions, in their lives in their world.

There are many reasons for people choosing not to. But there is a choice nevertheless,

I wonder If it is possible for a love affair to last forever...

Maybe it's bad karma, it is however ironic. I am a sarcastic bitch. I'm not malicious or anything nor do i suffer from any complex, inferior or otherwise. It is just the way I am. Perhaps I have hurt a sentiment or two and bruised an ego or a dozen, I never did it intentionally. I try to control myself but I must admit I do enjoy it. And am rewarded with a quiet chuckle ever so often. But as Karna was cursed to have his powers fail him when me needs them the most. S does not get sarcasm. It has no effect on him rather. It leaves me slightly piqued but more so because I find it endearing.

I have been feeling particularly lazy to cook these last few weeks which is surprising since I love to cook so much.
In the last few months since I ran out of the rat race ( I realised I was not a rat and didn't much fancy racing anyway) I have been exploring my cooking skills and thoroughly enjoying it.
Had I not been so greedy as to devour my creations instantly I probably would've blogged them and had quite a few posts to show here.

Anyway as of today I was feeling too lazy and too hungry to really cook, but unfortunately unlike my mother who can sprinkle some salt on parboiled cabbage and devour it as if it was a wedding feast (which it WOULD probably be for my wedding if she has a say) I am more like my father. I imagine my most favourite food, childhood goodies that I had eaten in an aunt's house who I have never seen since, my mind swirls as I imagine the flavours and the spices and only make myself hungrier.
But unlike my father I know better than to actually display the rage at the most likely event of being served boiled cabbage instead. Nevertheless, I am PISSED OFF.

So a common predicament these days for me reaching a compromise between my lazy self and my hungry self. As so it happens I chanced upon a packet of Maggie Noodles (shudder shudder).
Bachelor food??? I can't eat bachelor food!
I may be single and living alone, not to mention currently lazy but I am most certainly not a shuffling-dusty-Bata-floater-footed-6-month-old-jeans-wearing-trimesterly-bathing-smelly- bachelor!
Over the years of living alone, the image that flashes to my mind as I think of Maggie has shifted from the bunch of cute 8 year olds back from school demanding for "Maggi Maggi Maggi" to a bunch of ragged 20 something boys shoveling packets of the damn thing in to a dirty electric kettle (how old is that water?? yechhh!)

I did what I usually go when faced with a predicament. I JFGIed. I went through about 20 recipes and decided they would all taste the same anyway, which would be just like what my mum makes when she wants my silly brother to eat his veggies (even at this age yeah! tsk tsk tsk).
Thats when I closed my eyes and did a quick scan of all the memorable Maggies I had consumed and found one that really stood out.

As a child I refused to eat Maggi without ketchup. Now that I think of it I did'nt even like ketchup but I think I was just being whiny.
One day in 1988 after the Maggi was made and served, a sudden whisper spread from the kitchens though the household that the last drop of tomato sauce was liquidised thrice and thwacked out of the bottle. The Maggi was made and getting cold fast, the men folk were all away at work, there was no one to go or to be sent to the store to buy more, the snotty little terror was already suspecting something and heading to the kitchen to investigate. Aiyyyoooo! What do we do?

That was like a common scenario in the house those days ha ha :P.

So my aunt sat me down and told me the truth about what I had to eat the one and onle time in her life. There is no ketchup and there is nothing we can do about it so will you try to eat it plain or should I squeeze a lemon into it?
So a lemon was squeezed and found to be surprisingly good by one and all and it was a happy day in good ol 612 that day.
I never tried it again but always remembered how good it actually was.

So here goes my version of Lemon Corn Maggi. And look I've actually remembered to take a picture!.

What you need:

A small onion - finely sliced chinese style.
Green chilly - 1 or 2 according to your taste,slit and finely chopped
Frozen Sweet Corn - a handful. I had a packet in the freezer and just followed directions till it was ready to eat.
Chilli powder - to taste
Dhanya powder - a pinch
Oil to fry

What to do:

And of course a packet of Maggi masala noodles with the taste maker.

Before you get down to the cooking, seperate the Maggi into the full pieces and the broken bits.By broken bits I mean the fully seperated bits you find in the bottom of the packet, they should still be stuck together even in small pieces.
I kept a fairly equal portion of both. But you can figure it as you like.

Heat a little oil in a pan and add the onions and chilli.
Fry till the onion turns golden brown.
Toss in the Maggi tastemaker, chilli powder, dhanya powder and the broken bits and let it fry for a while.
Then add the corn and stir fry for bout a minute. You might need to add a little salt at this point for the corn.
Now pour in bout one and a half cups of water into the mixture. Stir it in and let it boil.
Once it starts to boil add the remaining Maggi and let it cook as usual.
When it has cooked to your liking turn off the flame and squeeze a lime over it and mix it in.

What I learnt:

1. No matter what the instructions say boil the corn for bout 5 minutes anyway.
2. The broken bits that were fried in first were also more flavoured. That gave a nice edge to the whole thing.
3. The dhanya powder I was slightly doubtful about complemented the lemon beautifully.
4. Frying the veggies first and boiling it along with the noodles is better than trying to mix precooked noodles into the veggies which turns lumpy and hurts my wrist for weeks.
5. The lime I had in the fridge was a little old and hard as a rock so due to my aforementioned delicate wrists I cut it into half and popped it into the micro on a whim. It was eazzee squeezee all the way through.

So here's the picture I finally took. It is not a very good one but heck I was hungry!!.

As you can see I did add a drop of ketchup to my plate to test my memory.

I really didn't touch the sauce a second time.

What I learned about me:

I don't remember dates, names , faces, anniversaries, conversations, movies, books, people, birthdays, phonecalls, numbers, words a lot of times but it doesnt really bother me that much.

I remember flavours and events that transpired around them. And when I am hungry and don't get what I want I get PISSED OFF.

What does that mean about me?
Go figure....

I miss the feel of the wind blowing though my hair while sitting in an auto, now I shrink from the smoke belched in my face as we inch through the streets.
Streets that were flanked by trees who's flowers they were usually named after, usually an avenue something.
I miss the fragrance of those flowers whose named I'd try to guess by their scent.
Sometimes I catch a glimpse or a whiff of these flowers and my heart warms if only for a moment.
I miss the evening chills, delicious and delightful when you pressed against your father for comfort or snuggled in your mother's dupatta.
The tea was stronger then, I miss the tea my grandmother used to make.
We would sit out on the porch on rainy days sipping hot tea and making conversation.
Conversation that would flow into a comfortable silence.
I miss the silence. I miss the comfort.
Sometimes we would smell the neighbour's jackfruit tree and wait for one to fall.
The neighbours who would pass over some jackfruit over the compound wall as my aunt would pass them a tumbler of coffee.
The compound walls were our source of endless amusement and we clambered, jumped over, walked along and walked over them.
Sometimes chasing, sometimes escaping we were robbers, police, acrobats, superheroes.
I miss the compound walls that used to be 4 feet high.
I miss the neighbours across the wall.
I miss moving freely through the streets and looking forward to car rides.
I miss finding people who were friends that became family and family that were friends.
I miss my grandmother and I miss the world of my childhood.

Kind attention

Of late I've been blogging a lot from my phone. Which is not a terribly fancy one, I love it nevertheless. Hence the sms style of writing and a few glaring grammatical errors.

Solpa adjust madi :)

Karma chameleon

The picture above is that of the day old progeny of Nuduki n ditto... Today it reminded me of the strange ways the universe to balance things... The cycle that is always followed...somewhere in the beginning of this blog i wrote of a new job... Somewhere in the middle i wrote of a nascent frustration... And then i stopped writing... Today 2 days after i gave my notice... I was riding back home from work... And in the safety of my helmet... My very own mobile enclosure... I was playing out an imaginary argument in my head... It was based on fact of course...the argument ended with me feeling how no matter how sincere your efforts are and no matter how good your intentions are the world today is not one to acknowledge it ... I will not be better off just because i am a better human being... As i was drowning in my uncharacteristic negativity i did.nt realise i had stopped in my tracks and turned my bright headlight away from the narrow path in front of me... There was an elderly man coming down the path . He obviously had difficulty walking and was moving slowly with the aid of a walking stick. As i paused and gave way for him, my mind was still swirling with the indignance of not getting my due. What's the point? I thought to myself. Suddenly the elderly gentleman crossed me and looked up with a smile that could only have come from the bottom of his heart... And said thank you very much... It was then that i realised i had waited i long enough to let him pass comfortably at his own pace. It had been too long since someone had thanked me for the little things i did for them... All i could do was smile back at the old man... I wish he knew the gratitude i felt towards him then...i rode away pulling back the visor of my helmet so that the wind hitting my face would dry my tears. I wonder how many people i had ever done the same for. Sometimes a thank you does more than a concious act of selflessness

old mob blog

Apart from the mosquitoes that trouble me because i have to keep the window open during summer and the more recent concern of charging my phone i've never really had any complaints against power cuts in the evenings. For me it is and has always been a welcome pause in the life's requirements. Be it sitting by candle letting it's flames mesmerise you or drifting away in your own little secret thoughts where no one can see you smile in the dark. Load shedding always have me the opportunity to take a moment and enjoy a still life...my fondest memories were of sitting on the verandah by my grandmother's chair listening to her stories. Just the night breeze, smell of rain and my grandmothers gentle tone taking me away to someplace peaceful.