its time to say goodbye to the last of the rain clouds for the year..
ps: thats the view from my balcony.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
this is the end
its time to say goodbye to the last of the rain clouds for the year..
ps: thats the view from my balcony.
Friday, August 27, 2010
old habits die hard
Life has recently taught me that not all men are like my dad. And with that a number of my sacred beliefs and expectations in men at large have come crumbling down.
I blame it on having grown up watching my parents. I blame it on being taught how to be neat. I have a dad who is the most meticulous, ordered, neat and tidy man I know. Everything he owns or acquires has a dedicated place. If he uses something, it goes back exactly where it belongs, when hes done. As a result he seldom misplaces things, and he knows exactly where everything is. Because it will most likely be in its dedicated place, where he put it. As a result of living with such a neat-freak of a man, I guess it rubbed off on my mom too (not to say shes messy, but I guess it only got stronger).
So naturally I grew up with an understanding of how things should be meticulously arranged, and everything must always be in order. I blame my need to keep things in order, on this. I blame my obsessive need to tidy things even when theres nothing left to tidy, on this!
The other thing this did was create an unnatural belief in my head, that all men would be like my dad. I just assumed that all men are neat. Tidy. Organized. And most importantly care for things to be maintained in a neat and orderly fashion. I was SO wrong.
Iv learnt in recent times just how wrong that belief is. My hopes have been dashed. And I think my super parents and my super upbringing has something to do with it. By being just THAT meticulous around the house, they not only inculcating this ridiculous fetish for order in me, but also leading me to believe that this is a norm with the human race at large, I have grown up with a false expectation! That the man I would some day marry would be as neat as I wish he would be. Wrong.
At home, Im a compulsive cleaner. I have a daily routine of thing that must be done: covers to be folded and tucked away neatly, pillows neatly piled in that exact same order. The old newspaper stashed in the old-newspaper-pile, and the new one tucked in the niche under my centre table, ready to be picked up if I wish. The fridge is reorganized and cleaned out. The bathroom is set right, the shelf in order, the bath mat in its place, the laundry hamper and buckets side by side. The kitchen must of course be spic and span: the washed utensils wiped and put away where they belong, remnants of breakfast dishes in the sink and a clean counter for me to begin lunch preps. These are just SOME of the things I find myself doing everyday. Before I really begin working or doing what I have planned to for the day, I find myself sometimes wandering around the house, pottering about randomly putting things away, rearranging things, stacking things neatly, dusting corners..sometimes I exhaust myself! But it doesn’t deter my need to keep at it and it is why my home is rarely in a mess. It also helps that we have a clutter free, sparsely furnished home.
The husband however, has NO sense of order in him. And this lack of order doesn’t bother him. He’s jus wired differently I guess. For example, it taken a lot of explaining and understanding to get him to put his socks into the laundry hamper when he gets home from work. And I mean INSIDE the hamper, not vaguely around (when he aims to throw them in, but the socks don’t make the distance), not by the shoes, not on the floor in the bedroom, but INSIDE the hamper. Because that’s where they belong.
Its taken an equal amount of effort to make him see why leaving a wet towel in a pile on the bed is a bad idea, and that the clotheslines is a better place for it, and for him, and for me. Also, thankfully, he's slowly almost given up on the idea that random nooks and corner of the bedroom floor are good places to keep clothes that have been worn for short intervals of time and can be worn again. These are just a few teeny-tiny examples. Don’t even get me started on his wallet, pens, loose change, chocolate wrappers, packets of chips, empty cigarrette packs and the growing collection of beer bottles i have under my kitchen sink. Yes, they dont miraculously get returned to the supermarket. I have understood this fact, but VC needs some time still. Until then, I stash them away neatly in large plastic bags (that make them easy to be carried out), and behind the cabinet so that I dont have to look at them everyday and feel lousy. Nonetheless, I have decided that because I love him so, I can be the sole tidy-upper-of-things, while he slowly develops an understanding for these finer things in life. Until then, Im just happy if he hangs his towel out to dry, keeps his shoes where they belong, puts his socks to wash, does the dishes sometimes, helps me out when I get on my cleaning spree, be willing to put up with my incessant cleaning. Thats all I ask of him. Nothing more.
I can help but think though, that if my dad were a normal, untidy man, perhaps I wouldn’t have these unrealistic expectations of mankind. But I do, and that expectation has, like I said, taken a bashing. Leaving me to take on the onus of making sure our home is and always will be tidy. Because that’s how I like it.
I always believed there was a higher cosmic reason why I ended up marrying VC. Now I believe that being there to ensure that he has a spic and span home to come to is part of that reason.
I blame it on having grown up watching my parents. I blame it on being taught how to be neat. I have a dad who is the most meticulous, ordered, neat and tidy man I know. Everything he owns or acquires has a dedicated place. If he uses something, it goes back exactly where it belongs, when hes done. As a result he seldom misplaces things, and he knows exactly where everything is. Because it will most likely be in its dedicated place, where he put it. As a result of living with such a neat-freak of a man, I guess it rubbed off on my mom too (not to say shes messy, but I guess it only got stronger).
So naturally I grew up with an understanding of how things should be meticulously arranged, and everything must always be in order. I blame my need to keep things in order, on this. I blame my obsessive need to tidy things even when theres nothing left to tidy, on this!
The other thing this did was create an unnatural belief in my head, that all men would be like my dad. I just assumed that all men are neat. Tidy. Organized. And most importantly care for things to be maintained in a neat and orderly fashion. I was SO wrong.
Iv learnt in recent times just how wrong that belief is. My hopes have been dashed. And I think my super parents and my super upbringing has something to do with it. By being just THAT meticulous around the house, they not only inculcating this ridiculous fetish for order in me, but also leading me to believe that this is a norm with the human race at large, I have grown up with a false expectation! That the man I would some day marry would be as neat as I wish he would be. Wrong.
At home, Im a compulsive cleaner. I have a daily routine of thing that must be done: covers to be folded and tucked away neatly, pillows neatly piled in that exact same order. The old newspaper stashed in the old-newspaper-pile, and the new one tucked in the niche under my centre table, ready to be picked up if I wish. The fridge is reorganized and cleaned out. The bathroom is set right, the shelf in order, the bath mat in its place, the laundry hamper and buckets side by side. The kitchen must of course be spic and span: the washed utensils wiped and put away where they belong, remnants of breakfast dishes in the sink and a clean counter for me to begin lunch preps. These are just SOME of the things I find myself doing everyday. Before I really begin working or doing what I have planned to for the day, I find myself sometimes wandering around the house, pottering about randomly putting things away, rearranging things, stacking things neatly, dusting corners..sometimes I exhaust myself! But it doesn’t deter my need to keep at it and it is why my home is rarely in a mess. It also helps that we have a clutter free, sparsely furnished home.
The husband however, has NO sense of order in him. And this lack of order doesn’t bother him. He’s jus wired differently I guess. For example, it taken a lot of explaining and understanding to get him to put his socks into the laundry hamper when he gets home from work. And I mean INSIDE the hamper, not vaguely around (when he aims to throw them in, but the socks don’t make the distance), not by the shoes, not on the floor in the bedroom, but INSIDE the hamper. Because that’s where they belong.
Its taken an equal amount of effort to make him see why leaving a wet towel in a pile on the bed is a bad idea, and that the clotheslines is a better place for it, and for him, and for me. Also, thankfully, he's slowly almost given up on the idea that random nooks and corner of the bedroom floor are good places to keep clothes that have been worn for short intervals of time and can be worn again. These are just a few teeny-tiny examples. Don’t even get me started on his wallet, pens, loose change, chocolate wrappers, packets of chips, empty cigarrette packs and the growing collection of beer bottles i have under my kitchen sink. Yes, they dont miraculously get returned to the supermarket. I have understood this fact, but VC needs some time still. Until then, I stash them away neatly in large plastic bags (that make them easy to be carried out), and behind the cabinet so that I dont have to look at them everyday and feel lousy. Nonetheless, I have decided that because I love him so, I can be the sole tidy-upper-of-things, while he slowly develops an understanding for these finer things in life. Until then, Im just happy if he hangs his towel out to dry, keeps his shoes where they belong, puts his socks to wash, does the dishes sometimes, helps me out when I get on my cleaning spree, be willing to put up with my incessant cleaning. Thats all I ask of him. Nothing more.
I can help but think though, that if my dad were a normal, untidy man, perhaps I wouldn’t have these unrealistic expectations of mankind. But I do, and that expectation has, like I said, taken a bashing. Leaving me to take on the onus of making sure our home is and always will be tidy. Because that’s how I like it.
I always believed there was a higher cosmic reason why I ended up marrying VC. Now I believe that being there to ensure that he has a spic and span home to come to is part of that reason.
the good and the bad side
of working at home.
this one had me in splits, because obviously i relate to it. but im sure you'll find it funny too..
this one had me in splits, because obviously i relate to it. but im sure you'll find it funny too..
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
on what iv been up to
i havent been out in 3 days, because:
1) its been too rainy
2) the husband has needed to use the car to get to work
iv spent my days cleaning, in anticipation for the parents' visit at the end of the week. i tried to pace it out so i wouldnt leave anything out, and now i think im almost done. its a good feeling to prep the house up for someones arrival.
these past 3 days iv been watching a variety of films. i watched an interestin documentary on architect balkrishna doshi. it lead me to download an film on frank lloyd wright.
a considerable amount of time has been spent scouting for music to download. i finally downloaded a ton of beatles, bob dylan and now a mega nusrat fateh ali khan (original qawwalis!) collection is on its way.
i also got a new assignment, that i have been staring at all of today. its sitting in front of me, but id much rather faff around on the internet than pick it up with a sense of urgency.
iv also cooked! cholle and chicken curry included.
but most of all, iv been DEEPLY engrossed in this, my newsest and most addictive discovery. its like a whole new world once youre in there. shes a magic woman. she lives on a ranch, she blogs about her life with her husband whom she cleverly calls "marlboro man" and 4 kids, she home schools them, she cooks, and as if that werent enough she takes some damn good pictures of it all and writes exceedingly entertaining pieces about her life. its the best of everything i like: blogging, writing, pictures/photography, and cooking! a large part of her blog is a segment on everything she cooks, and her pictures are truly drool-worthy. if i make the mistake of browsing through this site in the beginning of the day, i can be sure the entire day will be spent doing just that.
she has a knack! she can make the most inane things sound interesting and worthy of reading. and she has these awesome pictures of pretty much EVERYTHING to go with it. its like she has her nikon d3x strapped on and ready to go ALL THE TIME. for someone with FOUR kids, whom she home schools on a RANCH in OKLAHOMA, that seems like quite a feat. and then she finds the time to blog about it all. whats better, theres an update EVERYDAY. sometimes two!
what i find most engrossing is what an enriching life she has! its just so full of activity, life, love and memories. and she seems to make the most of every little experience. i think i have a crush on her. a teeny tiny one. for sure.
give it a shot, you'll be hooked.
1) its been too rainy
2) the husband has needed to use the car to get to work
iv spent my days cleaning, in anticipation for the parents' visit at the end of the week. i tried to pace it out so i wouldnt leave anything out, and now i think im almost done. its a good feeling to prep the house up for someones arrival.
these past 3 days iv been watching a variety of films. i watched an interestin documentary on architect balkrishna doshi. it lead me to download an film on frank lloyd wright.
a considerable amount of time has been spent scouting for music to download. i finally downloaded a ton of beatles, bob dylan and now a mega nusrat fateh ali khan (original qawwalis!) collection is on its way.
i also got a new assignment, that i have been staring at all of today. its sitting in front of me, but id much rather faff around on the internet than pick it up with a sense of urgency.
iv also cooked! cholle and chicken curry included.
but most of all, iv been DEEPLY engrossed in this, my newsest and most addictive discovery. its like a whole new world once youre in there. shes a magic woman. she lives on a ranch, she blogs about her life with her husband whom she cleverly calls "marlboro man" and 4 kids, she home schools them, she cooks, and as if that werent enough she takes some damn good pictures of it all and writes exceedingly entertaining pieces about her life. its the best of everything i like: blogging, writing, pictures/photography, and cooking! a large part of her blog is a segment on everything she cooks, and her pictures are truly drool-worthy. if i make the mistake of browsing through this site in the beginning of the day, i can be sure the entire day will be spent doing just that.
she has a knack! she can make the most inane things sound interesting and worthy of reading. and she has these awesome pictures of pretty much EVERYTHING to go with it. its like she has her nikon d3x strapped on and ready to go ALL THE TIME. for someone with FOUR kids, whom she home schools on a RANCH in OKLAHOMA, that seems like quite a feat. and then she finds the time to blog about it all. whats better, theres an update EVERYDAY. sometimes two!
what i find most engrossing is what an enriching life she has! its just so full of activity, life, love and memories. and she seems to make the most of every little experience. i think i have a crush on her. a teeny tiny one. for sure.
give it a shot, you'll be hooked.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
looking back at the last 6 months of my life
There are some kinds of people who have moved cities all their lives. Hopped from one place to another, restarting life from scratch every time they had a new beginning. I am not one of them. For 25 years, I lived in one city alone. Bangalore. I didn’t move for college. I didn’t even move for a job. I didn’t move for higher studies either. At every point that life posed a choice for me to move, I ended up choosing to stay. I knew nothing else. Bangalore is the city I grew up in, the city I will always go back to, the city I call home.
In March this year, I left Bangalore, to make Goa my home. The larger reason was a new job for the husband. But there were several underlying reasons why we chose to move, and more importantly to a smaller, slower town, very unlike Bangalore. While most people assumed that going from Bangalore to Goa meant a more happening and party-active life, the husband and I know the real difference the move has made to our lives.
Moving to Goa meant changing our lives a whole lot. For one it meant saying goodbye to friends and family whom we otherwise took a lot for granted. Everyone was just a phone call away, easy to catch up with and pretty much never too far to go and meet. It also meant saying goodbye to the conveniences of city life: public transport, fast broadband internet, quick service on everyday amenities. In Bangalore everything is a phone call away, or at the most a drive away. I refrain from saying “a short drive” because going anywhere in Bangalore never involves a short drive, and it’s nothing short of a pain these days. Moving to Goa also meant saying goodbye to the luxury of living with parents who somehow were always one step ahead of us and looked out for us in every way possible. Being in Goa threw us straight in charge of ourselves, our home and everything else we needed. We also said goodbye to the variety of places to eat out, the number of watering holes and malls. In Goa we were limited to Panjim’s few eateries, the single Chinese restaurant, and a couple of pubs. Basically we've said goodbye to all the choices we had, and narrowed it down to the very basic few things we now include in our little world.
Our life as we know it, changed dramatically.
Everything from getting finding a house to equipping it with an aquaguard, internet, tata sky and a telephone involved a million phone calls, a lot of frustration and anxiety, and whole lot of time and patience. Things just don’t get done quickly here. Service providers don’t believe in “service”, they operate like theyre doing you a favour. Somehow, in time, you find yourself treating them with an extra kindness even though deep down you want to shout and leave. The only place for fresh veggies is the municipal market, which was a shock to me at first. Though, I must confess I have grown to love its colorful energy. Public transport is pretty much non existent and if I didn’t have a car to myself, I don’t know how I would have gotten anything done around here. Goan food is pretty much the only thing that will taste good in any restaurant. Everything else is a gamble. Chinese food was non existent till I discovered pan asian bowl. So was continental food, until I discovered Ernestos. But we get by. And the truth is, despite these stupid everyday road humps, we love it.
We love it because while we sometimes feel we’ve traded off so many basic necessities of life, we’ve gained a peace and quiet that we sorely missed in our lives in Bangalore. The solitude has given us the space to be with each other, to read, to watch television, to blog, to learn to cook, to enjoy our work, to go on long drives, to think about life and what we want to make of it. I love how the restlessness in me has turned into a kind of calm collected energy. I love how I have had to learnt to enjoy my time. I love that I can now work for myself, on my terms and really feel satisfied about the money I earn. I love how everything here is just a short drive away. I love that in order to get good service one has to be extra nice. I love how my house help is so caring and full of concern for me and anyone who comes home. I love the look of satisfaction I see on the husbands face even when hes worked long hours for 6 days in a row. I love how every one is in a happy go lucky mood. I love the rains. I love the clean air. I love how I can wear what I want and nobody bothers me on the streets. I love the narrow but good roads. I love that almost nobody ever honks on the roads. I love that the husbands office is a short drive away. I love that he can come for lunch and still make it back to work in time. I love that I can venture out by myself after dark, and still not feel unsafe. I love how the booze is so cheap. I love the cheaper petrol. I love how I can eat a meal on a lazy day in under a hundred bucks.
Bangalore will always be my home. Yes, I'll always go back. And yes, sometimes we feel the difference. We really feel like we’ve left something behind in Bangalore. But we also realize what we’ve gained a whole lot in return. And that is what makes all the difference. Bangalore gave us choices. But Goa has given us the opportunity for so much more. Goa has made my life, life.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
the husband has very eloquently put in a few words, what i have rambled on and on about. to get the gist of what im trying to say, click here.
In March this year, I left Bangalore, to make Goa my home. The larger reason was a new job for the husband. But there were several underlying reasons why we chose to move, and more importantly to a smaller, slower town, very unlike Bangalore. While most people assumed that going from Bangalore to Goa meant a more happening and party-active life, the husband and I know the real difference the move has made to our lives.
Moving to Goa meant changing our lives a whole lot. For one it meant saying goodbye to friends and family whom we otherwise took a lot for granted. Everyone was just a phone call away, easy to catch up with and pretty much never too far to go and meet. It also meant saying goodbye to the conveniences of city life: public transport, fast broadband internet, quick service on everyday amenities. In Bangalore everything is a phone call away, or at the most a drive away. I refrain from saying “a short drive” because going anywhere in Bangalore never involves a short drive, and it’s nothing short of a pain these days. Moving to Goa also meant saying goodbye to the luxury of living with parents who somehow were always one step ahead of us and looked out for us in every way possible. Being in Goa threw us straight in charge of ourselves, our home and everything else we needed. We also said goodbye to the variety of places to eat out, the number of watering holes and malls. In Goa we were limited to Panjim’s few eateries, the single Chinese restaurant, and a couple of pubs. Basically we've said goodbye to all the choices we had, and narrowed it down to the very basic few things we now include in our little world.
Our life as we know it, changed dramatically.
Everything from getting finding a house to equipping it with an aquaguard, internet, tata sky and a telephone involved a million phone calls, a lot of frustration and anxiety, and whole lot of time and patience. Things just don’t get done quickly here. Service providers don’t believe in “service”, they operate like theyre doing you a favour. Somehow, in time, you find yourself treating them with an extra kindness even though deep down you want to shout and leave. The only place for fresh veggies is the municipal market, which was a shock to me at first. Though, I must confess I have grown to love its colorful energy. Public transport is pretty much non existent and if I didn’t have a car to myself, I don’t know how I would have gotten anything done around here. Goan food is pretty much the only thing that will taste good in any restaurant. Everything else is a gamble. Chinese food was non existent till I discovered pan asian bowl. So was continental food, until I discovered Ernestos. But we get by. And the truth is, despite these stupid everyday road humps, we love it.
We love it because while we sometimes feel we’ve traded off so many basic necessities of life, we’ve gained a peace and quiet that we sorely missed in our lives in Bangalore. The solitude has given us the space to be with each other, to read, to watch television, to blog, to learn to cook, to enjoy our work, to go on long drives, to think about life and what we want to make of it. I love how the restlessness in me has turned into a kind of calm collected energy. I love how I have had to learnt to enjoy my time. I love that I can now work for myself, on my terms and really feel satisfied about the money I earn. I love how everything here is just a short drive away. I love that in order to get good service one has to be extra nice. I love how my house help is so caring and full of concern for me and anyone who comes home. I love the look of satisfaction I see on the husbands face even when hes worked long hours for 6 days in a row. I love how every one is in a happy go lucky mood. I love the rains. I love the clean air. I love how I can wear what I want and nobody bothers me on the streets. I love the narrow but good roads. I love that almost nobody ever honks on the roads. I love that the husbands office is a short drive away. I love that he can come for lunch and still make it back to work in time. I love that I can venture out by myself after dark, and still not feel unsafe. I love how the booze is so cheap. I love the cheaper petrol. I love how I can eat a meal on a lazy day in under a hundred bucks.
Bangalore will always be my home. Yes, I'll always go back. And yes, sometimes we feel the difference. We really feel like we’ve left something behind in Bangalore. But we also realize what we’ve gained a whole lot in return. And that is what makes all the difference. Bangalore gave us choices. But Goa has given us the opportunity for so much more. Goa has made my life, life.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
the husband has very eloquently put in a few words, what i have rambled on and on about. to get the gist of what im trying to say, click here.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
today, i feel the need to reiterate..
THIS, with much irritation and angst.
it takes a lot for me to snap. i can stretch and stretch and stretch, before i do.
the official 5 day week has become a full 6 day week.
8 30 pm is the new 6 30.
the so called healthy work-life balance has tipped in favour of work alone.
and it seems i have come all the way to goa to rediscover a life of singledom.
but thats all i think i can stretch. iv just snapped.
so help me god.
it takes a lot for me to snap. i can stretch and stretch and stretch, before i do.
the official 5 day week has become a full 6 day week.
8 30 pm is the new 6 30.
the so called healthy work-life balance has tipped in favour of work alone.
and it seems i have come all the way to goa to rediscover a life of singledom.
but thats all i think i can stretch. iv just snapped.
so help me god.
recipe for a satisfying saturday afternoon
note: this must be done post a morning of cleaning, dusting, tidying and general obsessive-compulsive-need-for-order behaviour.
ingredients:
- an egg
- finely sliced onion (1 small)
- finely sliced tomato (1 small)
- parmesan cheese
- some milk
- salt and pepper to taste
- italian herb seasoning
- a stash of SATC downloads (preferably including the extras like deleted scenes and alternative endings and a 2 part farewell to the show)
procedure:
- beat the egg with the milk, salt and pepper
- throw in the sliced onions and mix well
- add the parmesan cheese and italian seasoning and beat
- in a pan melt some butter and pour in the egg mixture
- when it is half cooked, sprinkle the sliced tomatoes
- flip the omelette and cook till done
- simultaneously, toast 2 slices of bread
- enjoy with toast and melting butter, and a side order of hideous amounts of SATC viewing all through the afternoon
when done, consider an afternoon snooze. pure joy. guaranteed.
ingredients:
- an egg
- finely sliced onion (1 small)
- finely sliced tomato (1 small)
- parmesan cheese
- some milk
- salt and pepper to taste
- italian herb seasoning
- a stash of SATC downloads (preferably including the extras like deleted scenes and alternative endings and a 2 part farewell to the show)
procedure:
- beat the egg with the milk, salt and pepper
- throw in the sliced onions and mix well
- add the parmesan cheese and italian seasoning and beat
- in a pan melt some butter and pour in the egg mixture
- when it is half cooked, sprinkle the sliced tomatoes
- flip the omelette and cook till done
- simultaneously, toast 2 slices of bread
- enjoy with toast and melting butter, and a side order of hideous amounts of SATC viewing all through the afternoon
when done, consider an afternoon snooze. pure joy. guaranteed.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
introspection and venting
im sitting here in the middle of this gorgeous mid-week mid-day. there’s a post-rain cool breeze blowing, with a hint of warm sunshine. my work for the day is done: iv cooked a meal for two that i will be eating alone, and iv managed to get ahead of myself with the writing work i had scheduled for the week. all in all, things are looking good, and i have this gorgeous day ahead of me to enjoy just as i please. but theres a nagging thought in my head thats stalling me every step of the way. i just cant seem to get past it. and yes, its getting in the way of me enjoying my glorious afternoon.
iv written before about being “used”. a bit of navel gazing and some words of wisdom from the husband have led me to believe that perhaps i am indeed at fault. the problem lies within me and my Gullible Self. how else do you explain a series of events where i have given an inch to help someone in time of need, and a whole mile (or more) has been yanked out of it? it happens over and over, almost as if my Gullible Self doesnt want to learn from past experience. its as if im overcome by some mutant gene that just takes over when someone needs help. a gene that makes all past experience fly out of my memory. i dont have it in me to draw a fine line between helping someone out and being taken for granted.
sometimes i make myself feel better that its best to just help and forget about it. but when helping someone translates to being used and taken for granted, it does pinch. the worst part: i dont know what to do to change.
sob.
iv written before about being “used”. a bit of navel gazing and some words of wisdom from the husband have led me to believe that perhaps i am indeed at fault. the problem lies within me and my Gullible Self. how else do you explain a series of events where i have given an inch to help someone in time of need, and a whole mile (or more) has been yanked out of it? it happens over and over, almost as if my Gullible Self doesnt want to learn from past experience. its as if im overcome by some mutant gene that just takes over when someone needs help. a gene that makes all past experience fly out of my memory. i dont have it in me to draw a fine line between helping someone out and being taken for granted.
sometimes i make myself feel better that its best to just help and forget about it. but when helping someone translates to being used and taken for granted, it does pinch. the worst part: i dont know what to do to change.
sob.
Monday, August 16, 2010
rant.
my independence day began with a frenzy. because after 6 months of deliberation, i finally decided to cross the "coconut barrier", buy coconuts, break them open, scrape out the insides and make CHUTNEY! just to go with the dosas i was making for the very first time in my life. it was a momentous occasion.
but things were not meant to go smoothly. everything went up in a frenzy because we had a 2 hour power cut, which would NOT let me make chutney. and what was the point of dosa if you cannot have it with coconut chutney!? anyhoo all this ado about the mixie and the chutney and the dosas is actually about the power situation.
the the day after independence day, we had a 3.5 hour power cut that left me totally incapacitated. without power, i realized that i cannot get my work done in time. i could not run my washing machine and get my weeks pile of laundry done. i could not even fill my days supply of drinking water! for a lack of better things to do, i got cooking to kill time, and get it out of the way in the hope that the minute the power came back i could get down to work. the cooking got done in a jiffy, and i continued to wait some more. and some more.
three and a half hours later, still in the dark (figuratively), i decided to get out of the house and take my laptop to a cafe nearby just so i could get some work done and not waste my day twiddling my thumbs waiting endlessly for the power to come back.
and then it struck me, at least i have such alternatives. at least i have he option to just drive off in my car, burn enough fuel to get me to a cafe, where i can order an unnecessary cappuccino, a totally unnecessary muffin and get my work done so i can meet my deadline. but what about so many others who dont have such luxuries? other options? what about so many others who dont have a choice? what about those who dont have fancy cars to zip around in. what about those who live in the slum down the road, where such power cuts are probably an everyday affair? what about those millions, for whom EVERY little step in their everyday lives is an effort? and why should it be? is it not their right to have a basic supply of power? water? health care? education?
sometimes i wonder, when such fundamental necessities like electricity and water are not in place, what are we so proud of? when we look back, 63 years after we gained independence, is there really all that much we can be proud of? what is the point of the many achievements we have made, the boundaries we have crossed and the accolades we have gained for ourselves when such things like WATER and ELECTRICITY are still scarce?
it doesnt end with just water and power. the list is endless and meanders into the areas of basic education, eradicating corruption, basic health care. i live in a small town, and i see the sheer lack of such basic facilities just as i step out of my home. within the cocoon of my home, i feel safe, that i have a roof over my head, i can afford the life i wish for myself and that if i were to ever be in a crisis, i have a support system that i can depend upon. but what about so many others? who looks out for them? where are their options and alternatives?
sure we gained true independence 63 years ago, and sure we walk and talk freely, sure we have gained the right to vote and express our solidarity as we wish, we are independent. in a sense.
but when our everyday lives are so filled with unnecessary hurdles, when such basic things like electricity and water are an effort to acquire, when in merely getting through one day and the next we encounter so many unnecessary road-blocks, arent we actually just tied down by the invisible shackles of our own messed up systems?
but things were not meant to go smoothly. everything went up in a frenzy because we had a 2 hour power cut, which would NOT let me make chutney. and what was the point of dosa if you cannot have it with coconut chutney!? anyhoo all this ado about the mixie and the chutney and the dosas is actually about the power situation.
the the day after independence day, we had a 3.5 hour power cut that left me totally incapacitated. without power, i realized that i cannot get my work done in time. i could not run my washing machine and get my weeks pile of laundry done. i could not even fill my days supply of drinking water! for a lack of better things to do, i got cooking to kill time, and get it out of the way in the hope that the minute the power came back i could get down to work. the cooking got done in a jiffy, and i continued to wait some more. and some more.
three and a half hours later, still in the dark (figuratively), i decided to get out of the house and take my laptop to a cafe nearby just so i could get some work done and not waste my day twiddling my thumbs waiting endlessly for the power to come back.
and then it struck me, at least i have such alternatives. at least i have he option to just drive off in my car, burn enough fuel to get me to a cafe, where i can order an unnecessary cappuccino, a totally unnecessary muffin and get my work done so i can meet my deadline. but what about so many others who dont have such luxuries? other options? what about so many others who dont have a choice? what about those who dont have fancy cars to zip around in. what about those who live in the slum down the road, where such power cuts are probably an everyday affair? what about those millions, for whom EVERY little step in their everyday lives is an effort? and why should it be? is it not their right to have a basic supply of power? water? health care? education?
sometimes i wonder, when such fundamental necessities like electricity and water are not in place, what are we so proud of? when we look back, 63 years after we gained independence, is there really all that much we can be proud of? what is the point of the many achievements we have made, the boundaries we have crossed and the accolades we have gained for ourselves when such things like WATER and ELECTRICITY are still scarce?
it doesnt end with just water and power. the list is endless and meanders into the areas of basic education, eradicating corruption, basic health care. i live in a small town, and i see the sheer lack of such basic facilities just as i step out of my home. within the cocoon of my home, i feel safe, that i have a roof over my head, i can afford the life i wish for myself and that if i were to ever be in a crisis, i have a support system that i can depend upon. but what about so many others? who looks out for them? where are their options and alternatives?
sure we gained true independence 63 years ago, and sure we walk and talk freely, sure we have gained the right to vote and express our solidarity as we wish, we are independent. in a sense.
but when our everyday lives are so filled with unnecessary hurdles, when such basic things like electricity and water are an effort to acquire, when in merely getting through one day and the next we encounter so many unnecessary road-blocks, arent we actually just tied down by the invisible shackles of our own messed up systems?
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
im back in the business..
yesterday was an incredibly sunshiney day!
the sun shone brightly and the clouds gently floated by.
and i just had to make the most of it. so i got out.
im running again. and it just feels so damn good to burn some calories and get them endorphins working. its amazing to be back in the business!
the sun shone brightly and the clouds gently floated by.
and i just had to make the most of it. so i got out.
im running again. and it just feels so damn good to burn some calories and get them endorphins working. its amazing to be back in the business!
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
i can see clearly now the rain is gone..
when we had sporadic and weak showers last week, i knew the end was near. the weekend was sunshiny, hot and humid. which turned out to be good and bad. good because we didnt get rained in and we could take the in laws out, roaming the streets of panjim, shopping, eating out and generally showing them our village! bad because the heat and humidity made it one sweaty weekend!
but this week, i know its over. the monsoon is over. i see it in the sun thats shining bright and strong again. in the puffy and white clouds. in the bluest of blue skies. and yes, im sweating buckets again. such is the cycle of life i guess! it rains some and then you sweat some.
on the bright side, i get to start swimming again, which i plan to do asap. also, as i type this my mouldy, fungus-ey sheets are FINALLY being laundered and i cant wait to disinfect them and dry them out in some SUNSHINE, for a change.
also, we're back to chilling water in the refrigerator, and to welcome the heat and sunshine, lekha and i made a chilled trifle pudding of sorts for dessert yesterday. it makes for an even better breakfast, i realize now.
iv loved the monsoons this year, and its a bittersweet feeling to watch fade away ever so gently. despite the luxuries of being able to swim again, and do my laundry at normal intervals (as opposed to once a week, because nothing ever dried!) and wear my shorts again, and maybe go the beach again, im really going to be counting days down to next years rains.
but this week, i know its over. the monsoon is over. i see it in the sun thats shining bright and strong again. in the puffy and white clouds. in the bluest of blue skies. and yes, im sweating buckets again. such is the cycle of life i guess! it rains some and then you sweat some.
on the bright side, i get to start swimming again, which i plan to do asap. also, as i type this my mouldy, fungus-ey sheets are FINALLY being laundered and i cant wait to disinfect them and dry them out in some SUNSHINE, for a change.
also, we're back to chilling water in the refrigerator, and to welcome the heat and sunshine, lekha and i made a chilled trifle pudding of sorts for dessert yesterday. it makes for an even better breakfast, i realize now.
iv loved the monsoons this year, and its a bittersweet feeling to watch fade away ever so gently. despite the luxuries of being able to swim again, and do my laundry at normal intervals (as opposed to once a week, because nothing ever dried!) and wear my shorts again, and maybe go the beach again, im really going to be counting days down to next years rains.
Monday, August 09, 2010
recap
the weekend was spent spending time with and entertaining the husbands parents. thoughts on that, still to come.
amongst other things we went off the grid temporarily when our telephone line seemed to have been yanked out of its socket, which took the internet down with it.
iv eaten out like nobodys business this weekend, and i feel fat and lethargic and a bit like a blob. its time to get back to some serious healthy food, and with the rains decreasing, some exercise regime too.
the baby pressure is on like never before. something about completing 2 years of marriage seems to set off a chain reaction of sorts in a north indian family. its as if not producing a baby in the 365 + 365 days you have been married makes your life worthless. more thoughts on that coming up in another post.
i have discovered panjim's equivalent of sunnys, only slightly cheaper, with friendlier staff and almost NO snob value! so the next time im craving sunnys-like food, i know where to take myself.
this weekend, along with the parents in law, we visited more temples than we have in the 5 months we have been here. actually thats the wrong way to put it. it would only be right to say we visited temples in panjim for the very first time this weekend. more thoughts on that too, still to come.
sorry for this telegraphic post, but after being offline for over 2 days, i have a lot to catch up on -- reading, news, facebook, work!!
amongst other things we went off the grid temporarily when our telephone line seemed to have been yanked out of its socket, which took the internet down with it.
iv eaten out like nobodys business this weekend, and i feel fat and lethargic and a bit like a blob. its time to get back to some serious healthy food, and with the rains decreasing, some exercise regime too.
the baby pressure is on like never before. something about completing 2 years of marriage seems to set off a chain reaction of sorts in a north indian family. its as if not producing a baby in the 365 + 365 days you have been married makes your life worthless. more thoughts on that coming up in another post.
i have discovered panjim's equivalent of sunnys, only slightly cheaper, with friendlier staff and almost NO snob value! so the next time im craving sunnys-like food, i know where to take myself.
this weekend, along with the parents in law, we visited more temples than we have in the 5 months we have been here. actually thats the wrong way to put it. it would only be right to say we visited temples in panjim for the very first time this weekend. more thoughts on that too, still to come.
sorry for this telegraphic post, but after being offline for over 2 days, i have a lot to catch up on -- reading, news, facebook, work!!
Thursday, August 05, 2010
user-friendly me
if theres one thing i cannot stand, its being used. as per convenience.
a moment ago i felt like i just have an neon sign above my head that says "use me".
a moment ago i felt like i just have an neon sign above my head that says "use me".
last night, i realized..
that:
- im no good socializing with large groups of people i havent met before
- im probably better off meeting them alone, one on one
- sher e punjab classic has terrible food, given its "classic" reputation
- when we're feeling broke, and we're out of gas, sticking to the 50-rupee thali option is better than an expensive meal, spent in almost silence, with 4 people you really dont have much to say to
- im no good socializing with large groups of people i havent met before
- im probably better off meeting them alone, one on one
- sher e punjab classic has terrible food, given its "classic" reputation
- when we're feeling broke, and we're out of gas, sticking to the 50-rupee thali option is better than an expensive meal, spent in almost silence, with 4 people you really dont have much to say to
Wednesday, August 04, 2010
momentary PAUSE in my cooking spree
iv been obsessing with this cooking spree for a while now. its like a sudden burst of enthusiasm, that has just emerged from some hidden source. i cant contain it.
its not like me to pull out an arbit recipe of some obscure gujarati dish.
its not like me to feel confident enough to try it out.
its not like me to cook for myself alone.
and yet, yesterday (which was a completely rained out day, by the way) when (triggered off by bhavna's food talk) i had this sudden urge to eat dal dhokli, i did something i never have before. i decided my uncontrollable craving had to be appeased.
and when sanjeev kappor made it look so easy, i thought to myself "this cant be too hard." and i got down to it. i actually cooked myself some dal dhokli. rice. and papads. just the perfect lunch for a rainy afternoon.
soon after, irony of ironies, meghana told me that panjim has some awesome dal dhokli. at rajdhani. which is strange, because panjim almost never offers any options to satisfy my random cravings.
blueberry cheese cake - nothing. until i discovered carasid.
good continental food - nothing. until i discovered ernestos.
good chinese/thai food - nothing. until i discovered pan asian bowl.
however, these are all places one needs to plan a visit and go to. its not like bangalore, where one just gives in to every whim and fancy, picks up and goes to satisfy every craving. i dont have that luxury in panjim. so i never in my wildest dreams imagined PANJIM would be able to do something for my DAL DHOKLI craving.
next on the must-try list is rajdhani. but im sure it wont satisfy me as much as the success of pulling off a first time effort with a first time recipe of a first time dish of a first time experiment with a new cuisine (iv never made anything rmeotely gujarati before!) did.
then, last evening, as i was happily cooking my tomato-onion-garam masala mixture, and i was just about to throw in the scrambled paneer, the worst happened. the tove went lub-dup-lub-dup, flickered for three seconds and went off. never to come back on again.
i have finally run out of gas. after 4 and a half months, it picked today to run out. while this is probably a mundane occurrence for most, deep down i believe this is the universe telling me to go easy with the cooking spree.
its not like me to pull out an arbit recipe of some obscure gujarati dish.
its not like me to feel confident enough to try it out.
its not like me to cook for myself alone.
and yet, yesterday (which was a completely rained out day, by the way) when (triggered off by bhavna's food talk) i had this sudden urge to eat dal dhokli, i did something i never have before. i decided my uncontrollable craving had to be appeased.
and when sanjeev kappor made it look so easy, i thought to myself "this cant be too hard." and i got down to it. i actually cooked myself some dal dhokli. rice. and papads. just the perfect lunch for a rainy afternoon.
soon after, irony of ironies, meghana told me that panjim has some awesome dal dhokli. at rajdhani. which is strange, because panjim almost never offers any options to satisfy my random cravings.
blueberry cheese cake - nothing. until i discovered carasid.
good continental food - nothing. until i discovered ernestos.
good chinese/thai food - nothing. until i discovered pan asian bowl.
however, these are all places one needs to plan a visit and go to. its not like bangalore, where one just gives in to every whim and fancy, picks up and goes to satisfy every craving. i dont have that luxury in panjim. so i never in my wildest dreams imagined PANJIM would be able to do something for my DAL DHOKLI craving.
next on the must-try list is rajdhani. but im sure it wont satisfy me as much as the success of pulling off a first time effort with a first time recipe of a first time dish of a first time experiment with a new cuisine (iv never made anything rmeotely gujarati before!) did.
then, last evening, as i was happily cooking my tomato-onion-garam masala mixture, and i was just about to throw in the scrambled paneer, the worst happened. the tove went lub-dup-lub-dup, flickered for three seconds and went off. never to come back on again.
i have finally run out of gas. after 4 and a half months, it picked today to run out. while this is probably a mundane occurrence for most, deep down i believe this is the universe telling me to go easy with the cooking spree.
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
dirt off your shoulder
what better way to celebrate gorgeous rainy weather, than with a gorgeous mash up?
i like jay z.
i like the verve.
i love bittersweet symphony.
and this is how i began my day.
Monday, August 02, 2010
reviving hungry and excited..
for the first few weeks i spent in goa, without internet connectivity, without television, without newspapers, i had a lot of empty time on my hands. time that would hang loosely, time that i would want to fill, time like i had never experienced before. in order to keep myself occupied, and also by default to keep my sanity i did things to spend that time as best as i could. in those first few weeks i read books that i had meant to read for a long time but hadnt ever really done. i rediscovered painting, and i dabbled in it just a bit. i drove around the place wondering what creative, economic solutions i could come up with to do up the house with the bare minimum furniture we required.
its funny how a lack of things to do can sometimes force you to reinvent and enjoy your solitude as best as you can. during those first few weeks i enjoyed being quiet. being to myself. not being constantly hooked up to a system.
then one fine day out gas connection arrived. and turned my world around. cooking is something i have steered clear of for all my life so far. perhaps because i was never inclined, i was never forced, and most importantly because there was always someone to do it for me. i never developed an interest to even learn the minimum cooking one needs to know to survive! and it was ironic that someone like me was one fine day in a situation where i had to cook not just for myself, but for the husband too. and i had never done it before.
i began with baby steps. simple everyday recipes. simple ghar ka khaana. i would conference with my mom or my grand mom and update my recipe book with all the handwritten notes i gathered. in the beginning, i just couldnt cook without it. every meal time began with me opening the book and finding a place to prop it on the counter and moving it around clumsily when the counter got more and more crowded.
i slowly graduated and became brave enough to go one step further. i gradually stopped referring to the book. i started using my judgement with quantities and seasoning. i experimented with alternative flavours and i did the bravest thing for me at that point too: i started playing around with recipes i found online! i experimented with vegetables outside my world of aloo+onions+tomatoes+beans+carrots. and i found that if i put my heart into it, nothing really ever came out tasting horrid!
friends helped me along the way too.
niyoo was always willing to join me in an experiment, with enough enthusiasm to take the cooking world by storm.
james sat his mom down ad picked her brains, dutifully nothing down her bhindi and dill-aloo recipes and sent them to me.
experienced HWTM (hostess-with-the-most-ess) praerna was ever willing to share her recipes and tips with me.
anand came over and cooked chicken at home, sowing the seed for my non vegetarian experiments which i knew i would embark on some day.
lekha and i share an uncanny liking for the same kind of vegetables, desserts and cuisines. what makes it even weirder is the fact that we have similar arbit mid-day cravings, and urges to try out new things. in recent times, thanks to her camping out at my place we have shared lots of time talking about food, giggling over failed spotted dick experiments, and she has inspired and egged me on, and directed me as we bravely tried out seemingly tedious yet yummy things.
in the last few weeks, lekha and i have contemplated cooking something adventurous and something a little out of the ordinary (within our limited cooking world of course). and this weekend we got down to it. the husband had a sudden burst of enthusiasm too and we have revived a cooking/food blog we started a year ago.
so check it out.
we're hungry and we're excited.
oh, and off late fairly adventurous too!
its funny how a lack of things to do can sometimes force you to reinvent and enjoy your solitude as best as you can. during those first few weeks i enjoyed being quiet. being to myself. not being constantly hooked up to a system.
then one fine day out gas connection arrived. and turned my world around. cooking is something i have steered clear of for all my life so far. perhaps because i was never inclined, i was never forced, and most importantly because there was always someone to do it for me. i never developed an interest to even learn the minimum cooking one needs to know to survive! and it was ironic that someone like me was one fine day in a situation where i had to cook not just for myself, but for the husband too. and i had never done it before.
i began with baby steps. simple everyday recipes. simple ghar ka khaana. i would conference with my mom or my grand mom and update my recipe book with all the handwritten notes i gathered. in the beginning, i just couldnt cook without it. every meal time began with me opening the book and finding a place to prop it on the counter and moving it around clumsily when the counter got more and more crowded.
i slowly graduated and became brave enough to go one step further. i gradually stopped referring to the book. i started using my judgement with quantities and seasoning. i experimented with alternative flavours and i did the bravest thing for me at that point too: i started playing around with recipes i found online! i experimented with vegetables outside my world of aloo+onions+tomatoes+beans+carrots. and i found that if i put my heart into it, nothing really ever came out tasting horrid!
friends helped me along the way too.
niyoo was always willing to join me in an experiment, with enough enthusiasm to take the cooking world by storm.
james sat his mom down ad picked her brains, dutifully nothing down her bhindi and dill-aloo recipes and sent them to me.
experienced HWTM (hostess-with-the-most-ess) praerna was ever willing to share her recipes and tips with me.
anand came over and cooked chicken at home, sowing the seed for my non vegetarian experiments which i knew i would embark on some day.
lekha and i share an uncanny liking for the same kind of vegetables, desserts and cuisines. what makes it even weirder is the fact that we have similar arbit mid-day cravings, and urges to try out new things. in recent times, thanks to her camping out at my place we have shared lots of time talking about food, giggling over failed spotted dick experiments, and she has inspired and egged me on, and directed me as we bravely tried out seemingly tedious yet yummy things.
in the last few weeks, lekha and i have contemplated cooking something adventurous and something a little out of the ordinary (within our limited cooking world of course). and this weekend we got down to it. the husband had a sudden burst of enthusiasm too and we have revived a cooking/food blog we started a year ago.
so check it out.
we're hungry and we're excited.
oh, and off late fairly adventurous too!
Sunday, August 01, 2010
disasters of the spotted dick kind
it was meant to be firm and easy to slice. but it was floppy and lumpy.
it was meant to be spongy and light. but it was dense and sticky.
it was meant to be a super success. but it was a mess.
the spotted dick was a complete disaster.
iv recently developed a very serious liking for jamie oliver. liking is a bit of an understatement actually. its bordering on an obsession. the kind little teenage girls have for boy band artists.
but i like him because he is just so passionate about what he does, that it shows. in everything. in the way he chops, his imaginative cooking, his gardening skills, his relationship with his gardener, everything!
spotted dick, as ghastly as the name sounds, is a traditional british recipe featuring a steamed pudding/cake made of wheat, breadcrumbs, raisins and apricots. jamie oliver made it look so easy. and on his shows, hes always encouraging and insists that good cooking is about being brave. so pumped by his words, i felt BRAVE. brave enough to try my luck with spotted dick.
unfortunately it was a disaster from the word go. one i would like to erase from the history of my cooking endeavours. one that i still need to redeem myself from! and i will only ever attempt to correct this mistake if i ever feel woman enough to mess with this spotted dick again.
it was meant to be spongy and light. but it was dense and sticky.
it was meant to be a super success. but it was a mess.
the spotted dick was a complete disaster.
iv recently developed a very serious liking for jamie oliver. liking is a bit of an understatement actually. its bordering on an obsession. the kind little teenage girls have for boy band artists.
but i like him because he is just so passionate about what he does, that it shows. in everything. in the way he chops, his imaginative cooking, his gardening skills, his relationship with his gardener, everything!
spotted dick, as ghastly as the name sounds, is a traditional british recipe featuring a steamed pudding/cake made of wheat, breadcrumbs, raisins and apricots. jamie oliver made it look so easy. and on his shows, hes always encouraging and insists that good cooking is about being brave. so pumped by his words, i felt BRAVE. brave enough to try my luck with spotted dick.
unfortunately it was a disaster from the word go. one i would like to erase from the history of my cooking endeavours. one that i still need to redeem myself from! and i will only ever attempt to correct this mistake if i ever feel woman enough to mess with this spotted dick again.
the sun has graced us today
sun is shining, weather is sweet
make you want to move your dancing feet
when the morning gathers the rainbow
want you to know im a rainbow too
make you want to move your dancing feet
when the morning gathers the rainbow
want you to know im a rainbow too
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