This year

This year..
Tread lightly my friend
For many have passed this way before us
And more will follow

May you do good deeds
And may good deeds find their way to you
..this year.

Snow dreams

Preoccupied with
White Christmas quests
Travel plans, and
Number games
Under winter layers
And warm rays of the sun
This Sunday.



Aztec Spice for the afternoon cuppa
From my friend J's Christmas Collection.

Love

Sometimes I miss this little guy so so much that it simply breaks my heart.



Today, a postcript in an email from a friend brought this on again. A dog really is one of the few beings in this world who will love you more than he loves himself. How is it possible for someone to be so utterly ecstatic to see you, each and every time? He was, and showed it -- each and every time that I headed home over the past seven years.

R.I.P. Ghungroo.

Loved and missed dearly.

Tea cups

Today has been a nice day. Just nice. With the promise of impending winter. With the sunshine which felt so so welcome in the slight chill.

And a chance encounter with a blog with foodie tid bits about the city, really put me in the right mood for a cuppa!


Half a teaspoon of one of my favourite teas - The Spiced Imperial - by Whittard of Chelsea. Here's how they describe it: "..smooth black tea,..enriched with the taste of cinnamon bark and fragrant citrus peel, scented with spiky cloves and long dark pods of vanilla." It smells as good as it sounds, and for thee senses, is pure pleasure!


A teaspoon of the strong Red Label Tea (in Hindustan Lever's own words.." healthy, with a combination of tea leaves and tea dust"). Ha ha, healthy, robust and no nonsense. For those who like their tea strong - very strong. Tan tana tan!


Mix with a cube of sugar. And let it brew, let it brew, let it brew.


Add two teaspoons of milk and, voila! cuppa to be enjoyed with the fading light on the terrace.


Oh and top it with a drop of pure ginger juice..this one from Kerala is super.
And if you add more than four drops in a cup, it feels like you've bitten into a b@$$^y sharp ginger..
Like I did today :)

Maroon angles

Shadows and shades
And shafts of sunlight
Racing across the sky
At weird angles.

Shadows which move
Like waves
And then disappear
Hiding silently
Inside
A throbbing head.

This morning..

..with my cup of coffee, as the pigeons flutter and the sun rises in its intensity,
my thoughts, they go out to


JN thanks
being there from so so far away, as always
..luck to your new beginnings.

GS thanks
at the end of a telephone cord
..being the solid voice of reason.

SB thanks
..you suprised me with your maturity,
my little friend.

and AJ
..for your loss today
my prayers.

Those flowers

Missing

Those flowers
so beautiful

like velvet

patient
fleeting
and oh so peaceful

in their beauty

Those flowers

deep
dry
earthy

and oh so
peaceful

in their beauty.

This day

Yellow butterflies on yellow flowers
Watching
a red button rose
at the foot of a ceramic lady
Clouds and sunshine
Escaping
From more
words
Engaging, irritating
And closure
of another
book of words.

Twilight magic

Walking
On a windy day
As dusk begins to fall
If you look hard enough
There is magic
All around.

Weekend Gumbo

Tomatoes, green chillies, black pepper, dab of butter, pinch of salt, water
and ahem..rava idli powder :).

Dice tomatoes, cut chillies, add to pan and saute for a minute. Add the
rest of the ingredients, add water and boil on medium heat for about 6 minutes.
Garnish - preferabely with coriander, although sliced tomoato will do too.
Add a dash of dried mixed herbs, and..

..voila weekend gumbo ready to be enjoyed in the sunshine.
*Warning: Go easy on the green chillies. If you seriously overdo
it, make a dash for a bottle of cold orange juice (worked for me!).

Bon app.

The Gulmohar tree

The flowers were dead even as the day broke
The already drooping petals did not even
Have the energy to greedily lap up the water
From the few raindrops which sheepishly followed
The raging dust-storm, nor from
The half full steel tumbler
Slowly turning a dirty green.

The bright bright reds and oranges
And the podgy buds
Remained closed to the scorching sun
And while the heat burned and the dust-storms raged
They drooped
Closer and closer to the tarmac
Knowing of no respite, but from
The few raindrops which sheepishly followed
The raging dust-storm.

Undulations

Inching across kilometres and kilometres of
parched brown
grey
and dusty green
emotions reflecting on the ground
so so far below

That all u see are shadows

Then
a sharp turn
and flipping over
almost

Opening eyes
to realize
that even if you fall
it will be into the blue blue sky

Sunshine spaghetti

These two days have been bloody B E A U T I F U L - literally! Despite all the shenanigans a day brings, nature really was fabulous. The sun was shining brightly. The leaves were green, the sky was blue and there was a pleasant breeze under the trees. Despite the sleepless nights, just stepping out in the gloriously beautiful day made me happy!

And the lunch recipe on this glorious weekend took 10 minutes to cook from scratch.

Spaghetti from Italy; almonds from Afghanistan; black pepper from India; chopped garlic, roasted sesame seeds, and a mixture of dried thyme, rosemary, sage, oregano and basil from Thailand. Lightly roasted and then tossed with butter and cheese.

And voila, heavenly 'Sunshine spaghetti a la internacianole' ready to be enjoyed outdoors in this fab weather!






Bon app.

Recipes of pain and pleasure

"Is ghar ki kya deekh(sic) bhal karain, roz cheese koi nai toot jatea hai."

Chef by Jaspreet Singh is undoubtedly one of the most stunning books I have read in recent days.

The relationship between a book and the reader is intensely private. It is never the same for two readers. With connections made at so many different levels. Touching various chords of memories, pleasures, hopes. And the sheer indescribable pleasure of reading words, phrases, sentences which are so wrought with beauty that it is as much with fear, as with anticipation, that one turns the pages. (Plus he builds into the story, the shameful corruption scandals which have over the last few decades, plagued the one institution in India that people thought was above it.)

Chef is filled with line upon line of prose which makes you want to turn right back to page one and start re-reading the book, as soon as you have finished it. The beauty of the words haunts you for a long time afterwards. As does the sadness of worlds falling apart.

This for me, was a beautiful book to read. And after a long while, one in the same vein as Roy's God of Small Things.

A split second offence

"Same thing happen to you AND your family"

As I read the text message, blood rushed to the face and for a split second I thought I had somehow offended someone. Then I realised that it was a delayed response to early morn Songkran greetings sent out to friends in Thailand. Conversing in English has sure had its amusing elements in this region.

Happy Songkran!

3BTs for today: Morning music, prezzies and old words

1. Discovering Downtown by Petula Clark on the radio while driving to work, blasting it through the rest of the drive and whistling it walking up to the office.

2. After simply years, packing little prezzies in boxes - what a reminder of early teens!

3. Enjoying reading an amusing book, which just about a year and a half ago was kept aside after plodding through a few pages. Like other things, a book has to come at the right time for each person :)