Chiffonesque

Not in their goals, but in their transitions are people great. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

A colleague and I were discussing childhood treats over tea. I mentioned how much I love mustard oil. I love its strong smell and robust flavour. In fact, I like rice cooked this way – fry lots of onions and garlic in mustard oil, add salt and a pinch of red chilli powder and finally fold in cooked rice to the mixture. Mix well and serve hot. (And if someone makes you angry, just breathe on their face.) My colleague mentioned another recipe from her childhood days. My mouth has not stopped watering since. Take boiled eggs, potatoes, chopped onions, chopped green chillies, salt and generous doses of mustard oil. You first mash the boiled eggs and potatoes with mustard oil. Then add salt, chillies and onions and serve hot with steamed rice. Nothing beats a happy, hearty childhood - laced with sunshine, laughter and mustard oil.

This here was pepper prawns. (I ate meat in Thailand.) My assorted meats fried rice here. The white balls are octopus and the dish next to that are prawns. I love sea food, in case one didn't notice. This was a delectable heap of glass noodles with fish, beef, chicken, eggs, prawns, mince. The pineapple drink alongside my food was my Mai Thai. I also consumed liquor in Bangkok, but unfortunately it didn't do anything for me. I guess if you abstain from anything long enough, your body gets used to doing without it. However, to complete my repertoire of drinks, I did have bhaang last weekend and it. knocked. me. out. Now, I have having it for the first time and I liked it with milk and thandaai and all...but the very best way is to stir in spoonfuls in chilled Coke or Pepsi. I think a dark cola just makes anything taste good...and potent. That's my shrimp cocktail and lemon grass iced tea. I loved the cocktail. Usually, people smother the shrimps with the dressing, but thi

In keeping with my all too foul mood, I shall now recount tales and thoughts that will make people wince. Wince rhymes with mince. And I don’t eat meat anymore. Sigh. When J was in Mumbai, we went to Hard Rock Café. After HRC, we drove to Nariman Point and thought we’d take a walk there. This was opposite NCPA – that spot in Mumbai where wealth never diminishes and dreams never crumble and taxis are always hailed with panache, etc. etc. (I, on the other hand, work in Marol. S-I-I-G-H!.) So, J and I were generally talking about our trip in December, and how she misses Pune (by which, she only means Koregaon Park – the snob…catch her speaking fondly of Swargate or Kharkee…HA HA HA HA!). A little ahead from where we walked, a man was lying down on his stomach on the parapet. We stopped, wondering if it were safe to continue. After all, it was 3 a.m. and there was no-one else on the road. Our other friends and Cy were on the other end of the walkway. Then the man pulled himself ahead a lit

I am feeling very weird now. Everything just feels topsy-turvy. Nothing’s making sense anymore, and I don’t think things will ever settle into neat little rows and columns in my head. They are more like little isolated pieces of dots but they are so far apart that they can’t be connected anymore. It’s only November now, but I have already started thinking in terms of resolutions. The other day I was asking my friends what their resolutions were, and they were generally faffing through something. Because no-one can seriously have a resolution of wearing a banana peel. What’s the resolution in that? Will a generation that does not understand/ endorse the concept of commitment understand the need to resolve? Yes…that is what is irritating me – the need to resolve. Why must we take stock? Why must we commit to making tomorrow better? Why is there an innate, as well as an overt need, to consecrate your efforts and decide . Earlier I used to believe that decisions set you free. I dislike unc

This post is about an unexpectedly delicious combination I came across today. But first about my tooth - not because it's related, but because it makes me look like a martyr and I love that role. A couple of days ago it (the tooth, that is, not the role) was killing me - and I don't mean figuratively. I think there's some nerve that connects a tooth to the 'sanity' portion of the big noodle. And this nerve, in my case, had gone berserk. But yesterday, when I just couldn't see or even breathe anymore, I went to the dentist and I am much, much better. My tooth is still tender and I can't really chew on anything very hard. So I ordered a butter sada dosa in my canteen. Our canteen guy makes few things really well (the others I think are being used for the Mumbai Metro work) and dosas is one of them. And because he was out of nariyal chutney, he gave me some sweet curd - the kind that is served with sabudana khichdi . Together, they were excellent! My tooth and

Last weekend I had driven to Murud Janjeera with my roomies and another friend. No biggie, except that I drove all the way there and…get this… all the way back . Alone. By myself. Solely. Again, no biggie, since it’s only 165 kms or so from here. But only a couple of months ago, I was scared of taking the car out to the market place. So it was a definite challenge for me to drive on highways, through crowded village roads and, at one point, reverse on a slope (I still break out in a sweat when I think of that). Now that the trip is behind me, I feel…umm…strange. There’s a weird, unknown, vague feeling of happiness. I guess, after a long, long time, I’m feeling proud of myself. I must say, I had great company on the trip. Friday night, they insisted that I go to bed early, shutting off lights, tucking me into bed and making me cheese and chilly sandwiches the next morning. Our trip to Murud was really cool. We listened to radio at 5:30 in the morning, and from what we heard, I think w