Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Today, this day, this now, now this

The day is cloudy
The skies are woolly and grey
The wind is cold
The sun's out of the way
I feel such glee
For things left to do
I may get one thing done
Or maybe even two
Maybe nothing will happen
Today where so much brims
Still, at night, I'll clutch sparkles
Of my almost wanderings.

Monday, January 20, 2014

Conjunctiv-eyed

At home in Pune with one eye that is red and swollen and the other that is watering continuously. A slow fever creeps up now and then and my throat aches slightly. I won't be going to office for a week or so. I will miss all my yoga classes. However, there are some beautiful things around to make up for the sequestered life:

1. Sweet, drugged sleep but with enormous amounts of lucid dreaming.

2. Sunlight laced with sepia-tints streaming in through the glass windows and forming a lovely square on the bed.So, there's a special place on the bdd that is warm and toasty,  where you can lay your chin and blink in the light.

3. A far full of cheery carnations that a friend brought. The bunch is a crinkly collection of ruby-red and candy-pink flowers, tied with a length of moon-white ribbon.

4. Cold, cold days where brewing some hot, black coffee makes the fingers lengthen in gratitude for the warmth.

5. Put in eye drops by myself which, more than driving or making one's own money, has made me feel independent.

6. Snuggling under two quilts and yet shivering because I am reading Rushdie's Moor's Last Sigh and it's so lovely.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Irritated

Very irritated today. I have been diagnosed with conjunctivitis and some other infection.  There's no telling how long this will last. And just all in all, pissed off. But still,  really thankful to the doctor who saw me last minute even though the clinic was just about to close and even though I had no appointment.

I had not bargained for taking this kind of  long leave right in the beginning of the year but that's okay. Will make it work.  Something good will come out of it.

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Unwell

I was very unwell today. My eyes were burning furiously. Since I avoid medicines as much as I can, I didn't take any. A friend, C, is staying over for a couple of weeks.  She leaves early for office. So after I had seen her off, I lay down again to take a quick nap. But my eyes burned and I just wanted to scoop them out snd soak them in iced water.
Nothing I did helped. I took a day off from work and just lay in bed waiting for the feeling to pass. Then I suddenly realised that the cook hadn't made enough food for two people.  So I decided to , ake a quick soya sabzi. The eyes were burning less now. I chopped a couple of onions for the dish and this was torture. The eyes throbbed, burned, and turned into faucets. But after I was done with the chopping, my eyes didn't burn anymore.

Am just so grateful!

Friday, January 10, 2014

My confetti days in the year gone by

2013 ended before I could write about it, even though there are lots of half-filled notebooks where I have scribbled down details.

Out of the bunch of pictures I had, these are a few. I like these photos. Remind me that forgetting is important. Clears the way like nothing else does.

Thursday, January 09, 2014

Simple enough, quick enough, but nice

Lately, I have taken to dahlia or broken wheat.  It is quick and easy to cook and when you make it savoury, it can be quite a wholesome,  substantial meal. I, of course,  love it because it resembles rice in taste and texture so closely. If you have a late dinner like I do, rice tends to make you feel a little bloated and heavy. Roti makes me feel that there is more work ahead of me (I equate rotis with hard, unrewarding labour). Dahlia is a nice middle path.

Since I usually only cook for myself and that too after nearly 10 hours in office,  my preparation is very unfussy. I don't even chop vegetables, cooking them whole or maybe squaring them off in big chunks. Somehow I find it tastier that way.

Here's what I generally do: Take a cup of dahlia, two cups of a daal (I find moong and masoor works best, though), some water, a halved capsicum, a whole tomato, or large quarters of potatoes (you could take all these vegetables,  of course. I really relish the flavours of just one. I don't use onions because, well, who'll chop that much?). Then I add water, maybe 3 and a half cups or so, salt, turmeric, lots of chilli-coconut powder mix (the kind that's spread on a vada pav), some plain chilli powder,  and oil. Now, the weather's nice and crisp in Pune, so I use mustard oil. There really is nothing like it to give the sharp, hearty flavour to it. (Olive oil tastes nice too. But if you can, smoke it with some garlic for more flavour.  Corn oil, meh...it doesn't really taste like anything. Ghee is another awesome alternative. ) Mix up all this properly.

Then I pressure cook it a little longer than one pressure cooks rice - I do it for maybe 5 or 6 whistles. The vegetables are properly mashed and soft. The flavours have meshed with each other properly.

I usually have it with some Kashundi.

It's hot, very tasty, and really wholesome. I feel the right kind of full.

Tuesday, January 07, 2014

Dinner at home

After a really long time I had friends over for who I took out special cutlery for, plumped up cushions for, cooked a peas and corn rice dish and slow-fried brinjal rounds spiced with meat masala. (I like using the meat and fish masala in certain vegetarian dishes. I find their flavours more robust.)

So, two pictures. I forgot to take pictures of the cakes people brought, though (amongst many other things). For dessert,  we had three types of yummy cakes. One was a fresh chocolate and vanilla one, another was a dense, plum cake with lots of walnuts,  and the third was a delicately flavored mawa cake. I invite generous people with good taste.

Monday, January 06, 2014

It just might make sense series - 1

On a foggy night,
The stars were dim.
On Instagram,
I spotted him.
He wasn't in the picture, thoguh.
He seemed to be below the floor.

Sunday, January 05, 2014

Evening

The fading light of the sun tells me I can turn away but not go very far. Who do you kid, earth?