Ring it in

Be warned : the below muddle of thoughts has been penned down at an impossible hour and in a mushy state of mind…

Now that you insist on reading on…
The cabbie who drove me to office this morning, a very nice old man, told me a funny story.
“Back in the sixties, when I lived in a poor neighborhood, there was no much firecrackers. People used to come out in the streets and bang pots ‘n pans together.. ringing in the new year, that’s what they said. We had fun, ringing in the new year that way”
I don’t mean to be rhetorica, but this has been a very special year for me. Special in that weird way which makes you wonder and shudder all at once. Special because there is just a melee of memories, sweet and sour with just the right amount of garam masala thrown in together. Yet there is not one day that can be pulled away, held up to light, examined up close and stamped “Special”. Its exactly the dizzy feeling I get when I try to tell the leaves apart on trees that pass by as we speed away in our car. Everything looks green and pretty and exactly as it should be, but you cant tell the leaves apart.
So as we take a tentative baby step across this finish line of the year that went by, which is also the starting line for yet another journey, I cant help this old fashioned sentimental state of mind. I have realized the value of love, family and of real friends this year and I am not saying this because it’s the right thing to say. I am also watching myself in wonderment as something inside me is mellowing down inexplicably, wondering if that’s what maturity is supposed to be. I am thinking about everyone and everything that’s touched my life so far and I think I am mostly thankful (considering what a whiner I am, that’s a lot).
I have met some truly wonderful, awe inspiring people this year. They aren’t making the headlines anywhere, they are simply going about doing what they do best, in the best way possible. I have also learnt that “that’s not fair” is a ridiculous statement, because the boundaries of fair and no-fair fuse beyond recognition in the times we live. I feel unhappy about the things I have missed doing this year, like telling a friend that they meant the world to me, or calling a cousin just to say Hi. Its taken me some time to realize that none of what anyone does for us matters as much as what we can do for ourselves.
In that sense, I will always remember what the cabbie told me about the pots and pans and ringing in the new year.
No worries if there be no firecrackers… pots and pans, that’s all it takes to ring it in….
Happy new year my dearies and thank you for sticking by me in spite of everything. Hope some of those real dreams you have do come true for you this year, Amen…

Happy International Women's Day

I should love to continue the uplifting tone of our previous post for a few more days. I cannot though, because she has been crying. She cried yesterday for the one hour or so she spends with me, and she cried today before she stepped out of my home. I have known her for a year now and I have seen her broke many times before. I have never seen her broken though. She never said before that she wished she were dead, not even when she lost the only man who remembered how she had looked as a child, a ten year old bride. She grieves for him though he had taken to drink and beaten her with a stick reserved for the purpose every night, when he was smashed enough. Her health and that of the other three people of her household is failing rapidly. A teenage son who labors at breaking stones in the killing heat of the Hyderabad afternoon, a daughter who is young enough to be amused with fancy hairpins and works with her mother as a maidservant, a three year old grandson – the only memory of the deceased elder daughter who succumbed to medical negligence in her pregnancy two years ago.

My maid has been crying because all her children are suffering from some ailment or another and she is helpless. Her son has been running high fever for some time now; the doctors say he cannot stand the heat and the strain of such inhuman labor. Her daughter suffers frequent belly cramps, and then she cannot even sit up, much less keep her morning appointments at the several households that wait for their dishes to be cleaned.

They have already pawned all the silver she had saved up for her daughters wedding, which must happen sooner than later, because when you live in a slum where broke men come back home drunken in the nights, a teenage daughter is heavy responsibility.
Yet she says, it’s not about the money, as long as my children are well.

None of them can read or write in any language, thus reducing their chances for any other kind of indoor work next to nil. Every rupee spent on hospital expenses or medicines means a rupee taken away from weekly rations of food and travel fare. They still laughed and joked about many things till last week, not anymore. The burden is too heavy now. Yet they give another dimension to honesty when they hand back my gold earring fished out from below the dresser. Loss of that earring would have meant a little heartache to me, no more. Its value is enough to pay for her daughters pawned silver anklets, which is a shameful reminder of helplessness to her.

I don’t know what to feel. Giving her some money to tide the times over is always an option. It makes me feel gracious too. But when that money is gone, and the little child falls sick with Chikunguniya, she will be worse off than now because she still has a remnants of pride that wouldnt allow her to borrow anymore from me.
I don’t know how this will change. I have been thinking a lot about her now a days.
Let me know if you have any “teach them to fish” ideas.
In the meanwhile let’s celebrate the international women’s day.

Happy New Picnic

As kids, the three of us siblings must have been a real handful for my mother. Mere mention of a long travel and she would be visibly petrified. I have been known to send fellow travelers scampering for cover with my threats to throw up on them, because I didn’t like the way they smelled. Both my brothers played passing the parcel, except the parcel in this case was called “bawling to the top of your vocal cords for no apparent reason”. Then there were the numerous pee-pee breaks which were nuisance enough on road trips but a serious threat to the sanity of my poor mother in long distance train journeys. Besides, we (especially our father) loved the hawkers in those trains. Since eating and bawling at the same time wasn’t exactly feasible, we were occasionally allowed to eat dirty food. The pickiness which so dominated meal times at home was gone with the wind in trains. Our tummies however, had been too well and overly protected all along, so that sort of food did its magic soon enough. Then came the worst part, as you may imagine, given the state of toilets in sleeper class compartments of our trains. Enough said, you get the idea!

Picnics however, were another thing altogether. We were still a beastly lot to haul all the way up to the destination, but the considerably shorter distance clinched the deal. Most of our picnic haunts were located at walk-able distances. We usually went as a big party with more kids and their moms from the neighborhood. We could play as much and as long as we liked, while the moms busily knitted, chatted or fixed sandwiches and Rasna. Everybody came home pleasantly tired.
The inexplicably happy thrill I feel at the thought of a picnic even now must certainly have a good deal to do with those sweet carefree days.
So, on the long weekend for new years’, it was picnic that was on our minds. To tell you the truth, I was being a hopeless daydreamer. How we would stroll in the lush greenery, then bring out the tiny outdoor grill, make some sandwiches, collect a basketful of flowers, well well, if wishes were horses, I would own a stud farm by now.

Hyderabad is not the best place in the world for a quiet, green get away. We (me and Anurag) finally agreed on this seemingly neat place called Manjeera Barrage and Bird Sanctuary, not very far from home. A bit of fussy, meticulous packing of food, books, mats and whatnot by me, and a great deal of TBHPing for the directions by Anurag, we were get-set-ready-GO!

We couldn’t have picked a better place really. Quiet, cool and green, though the roads leave you asking for a lot more. The place is just off the Sangareddy town. There was hardly any water in the barrage, though we saw a great many birds.

The crocodile breeding center and environment education center is a small but well maintained place.

We found a cool spot, spread out the mat, fixed some sandwiches and fruits, and simply relaxed. It was really quite restful to look at tall grass flowers nodding away at the slight breeze, little fearless birdies going about their business, warm sunlight stealing through treetops on that cool winter day. I even tried reading a few pages from the Sea of Poppies, though I gave up soon because the crocodiles were being less lazy and more camera-friendly just then. We couldn’t find a good enough place for lighting a fire for the grill (alas!) though, it was really unnecessary on second thoughts. May be some other time.

Towards late afternoon, the bustle began to increase and the quiet charm of the place began to dull a little. So we packed up again, took a good look around and hopped back in to the car, happy and refreshed.

Jingle all the way

Winters are my favorite! Oh no offense Mr. Rain, you are a life saver! Howdy Mr. Summer of Mango Land, please don't get me wrong. I love you both too! But you see, this Mr. Winter here, everybody thinks him cold and gloomy! Poor Mr. Winter. That's why my heart goes out to him you see! No offense really!

Snicker Snicker! Now that those two are out of earshot, let me tell you the truth. Winters ARE my favorite! Sorry, did I say that before? How I love the crisp mornings. That carefully stored hibernating old sweater comes out all cuddly again. Oh the flirting Gerberas and Roses and a million other beautiful flowers. Not to mention the abundant green leafies, cauliflowers and apples. Its happy happy time but come Christmas and all I feel is homesick. You would feel the same way if your home happens to be in a pretty little place like Goa. Every little hamlet perfectly adorned with lovely (and real) Christmas trees, (cotton wool) snow, glittery lights and a general air of pure festivity!

Somehow this year, it didn't feel right to just sigh, wallow in nostalgia and then carry on. It was a long weekend and before we knew, without much pre planning, there we were, having one of the most memorable Christmas days, right here, in Hyderabad.

We even had this pretty Christmas star which Bijou brought (sadly, no grotto could be found). Ample food, complete with roast chicken and a semi-traditional fruitcake had us bursting at the seams. The fun part was supplied was Shveta and Laukik, who brought in this 3 D, Christmas scenery card that needed to be assembled and decorated. Everybody took a shot at proving their artistic non capability, though it turned out really neat at the end. All in all, this could be one of those times we missed festivals at home a little bit lesser.

It was the first time I handled a whole, uncut chicken and I should admit, I don't have the strongest of hearts. I had to continually remind myself that the chicken would have probably died in vain if I were to act like a sissy about touching it with love.
I improvised a lot on the roast chicken to make it palatable to the spice loving group that we are. I couldn't find any recipe, neither in my gradually multiplying cookbook collection, not on the net, which would precisely fit that “Stuffed and Roasted and not bland Chicken picture) in my mind. So this is what I ended up doing.

Ingredients
1.25 Kg dressed, clean whole chicken
Butter 50 gms
Baby potatoes – 12 - 15
Baby Corn : 3 – 4
Mushrooms – Handful
Ginger – 1 inch
Garlic – 8 cloves
Fresh Cream – ½ cup
Curds – 1 cup
Tamarind paste – 20 gms tamarind soaked in 4 tbs water
Powdered thyme – to taste
Coriander – 1 bunch
Green chillies – 4
Salt – to taste
Red chilly powder – 1 tbs

Serves 6 hungry tummies



Preparation

Marinade

Wash and pat dry the chicken from the outside and the inside. Liberally apply butter, salt and pepper powder to all the surfaces. Cover the chicken and let it marinate for half an hour.
Chop onions, green chillies, ginger and garlic and sauté on a medium flame in the remaining butter for 10 minutes. When the onions look glassy and cooked, switch off the flame. Shred the coriander leaves and add to this cooling mixture. When the mixture is completely cooled, add the curds, fresh cream, thyme and red chilly powder along with the strained tamarind paste and salt. Stir and to mix ingredients and grind to a fine paste. Divide the mixture in two parts. Apply one half thoroughly to the chicken from the outside. Again let the chicken marinate for a further one hour at least, or a whole night in the fridge if you have the time.

Stuffing
Cut baby potatoes in halves, chop baby corn, mushrooms and onion. Add oil to the skillet and stir the onions in it for 2 mins. Add all the other chopped veggies. Dump the other half of the ground mixture in the skillet on high heat. Adjust salt. Add a pinch of sugar to balance the tang of the tamarind. Stir vigorously till the veggies are well coated with the gravy and the mixture just begins to bubble. Cool the mixture.
While the stuffing cools, preheat the oven at 200 C, for 10 mins, without the roasting pan in it. Butter the pan in the center and keep aside.
Now, slowly push the stuffing into the cavity of the chicken. Make sure sufficient quantity of gravy also is spooned in. adjust the potatoes and corn pieces on the outer side, under the wings and neck flap. Hold the wings and neck near the body with toothpick if needed.

Roasting

Place the chicken in the center of the pan and roast for 1 and a half hours, at 200 – 220 C. check the potatoes by poking a long knife's blade in. Roast for a few more minutes if the potatoes are not well done. Though within one and half hours the chicken should be cooked just right, if you feel there is still some cooking needed, cover the whole pan with aluminum foil and cook for another few minutes. The foil prevents the chicken from over roasting on the outside.

Carefully unwrap. Let it stand for 5 minutes for the steam to escape. Serve!

Christmas or no Christmas, this will have you celebrating.

PS: I don't have a picture of the chicken, because... take a guess... well, folks devoured it before I realized I had no pic.

Knock Knock, there?

Hi, there!
Its cold in here, thanks to me! I was entrusted to keep this place warm enough for you and me, when we wanted that little sip of hot chocolate, or a friendly chat at by the hearth.
Sorry, I went missing. I never meant this to be such a long silence dear reader, somehow, the beastly sloth I normally try to keep at bay caught up with me.

In the meanwhile, I got married to my long time sweetheart. In fact, have been married for a year now and I still can’t believe it!! In a good way of course!

Pretty interesting things have happened to me while I’ve been away. For example, I discovered that I could spend 10 hours at a stretch in my kitchen, trying to bake the perfect croissants. I also discovered that I have a long way to go if I am to be the best person I know, though its very hard to accept. Somewhere along the line, I have picked up some fortitude, buried some ghosts and decided I want to try my hand at something I have loved always. Writing. I am really not sure how fabulous or super-sucking I may be at it, but we wont know till we try.

With the fresh new year, that ends the first decade of this millennium, I wish you all good cheer, love and peace. May you make a few discoveries of your own, fall madly in love (all over again is fine too), have your table always full of good food cooked with great care and a may there be a spring in your healthy step.

Happy New Year everybody!!

We will meet more frequently and regularly, unless of course, the Giant Turtle from that other galaxy swallows our earth.

For the Sake of Our Cities

I am lucky enough to be working in a place, where they believe in creating state of the art campuses. Every day when I step inside the gates, all the hectic running around of the morning gets pushed to the background. Even as I walk down briskly to my building, soft shafts of golden rays glancing off the well manicured lawns, fresh dewy sprays of flowers…they lure and refresh all senses. For the rest of the day, my cubicle is mostly all the scenery I get, but I enjoy the walk back in the evening on the same paths, now admiring the gentle dusk.

Then I am outside on the road, trying to find commutation. If you are the bike, auto, scooter sort, the din, dust and smoke is inescapable. By the time I reach home I am covered with a layer of dust and I suspect I inhale a few grams of it daily too.

Does this end when I am home? I would have loved to say big hearty yes. But Alas!

A big stretch of highway in the front of my apartment has been undergoing a road widening project for about two years now. The roadsides have been dug up and flattened to the level of the main road. Someone somewhere seems to have forgotten that it was a “road” that they were to construct, not a mud track. All the area around the building premises is a patch of mud too.

Vehicles passing by are in the greatest hurry to overtake other vehicles on the road, so mostly you would find quite a company jostling for space on those “widened road sides”. A nice consequence of this, apart from the interminable horn honking is that, we have begun to believe – Thou art dust and thou will be dust!

I see kids playing in the space between two apartment blocks, women taking an idle evening stroll. There are a few shrubs here and there, and most of the bigger trees were uprooted for the road widening.

Isn’t it upsetting? To see five year olds making play on bare cemented ground, breathing in dust and smoke, not knowing about birdsong or butterflies? I almost feel guilty for the pleasant mornings and evenings in my office campus.

It sure upsets me. Many people blame our generation for this reckless onslaught of construction which has been dubbed as infrastructure development. They think, we are responsible for the ever increasing prices of property and the concrete jungles spawning in response to our spending capacities. I don’t fully agree with that view for various reasons. Nevertheless, I feel we are in a better position to alleviate the situation than most.

The cities we inhabit give a lot to us – good jobs, better lifestyle, shopping places, eateries, a cosmopolitan society… How many times do we complain about the state of traffic and the attitude of local populations toward us? Aren’t there a few things we can change for the better?

Take the problem of dust that I mentioned earlier; recently, they published survey results for Hyderbad’s air pollution constituents. The major constituent of air pollutants is Dust – 43%, contrary to the popular belief.

I am planning to put some ideas across to the management of our apartment; things like, paving the area around the building with cement block tiles. I have seen these tiles in some places. They are like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that can lock into each other firmly. No additional construction is required to pave an area with these. I think they can be dismantled too. They would prevent dust being racked up and would stand minor traffic. I also plan for planting flowering plants and patches of lawn in whatever little space is available in the premises.

Do any of you have good ideas that can help our cities? Small steps that could make life even slightly better for the inhabitants?

On Hate and Diversity

Have you read a remarkable book called "Baudolino" by Umberto Eco, the famous Italian author? The title is the name of the main character of the book. The story is based in the middle of the siege of Constantinople in the 13th century AD. It’s a remarkable book not only for the well researched erudite representation of History of but also for the clever characterization and superb meshing of fantasy, myth, science, psychology, not to mention cynical sprinkling of humor throughout.

It set me reading a bit about the people, culture and religious beliefs of the time. To our modern sensibilities, many of the actions of famous men and women of the times seem difficult to comprehend. I think there is one common theme running throughout the shaping and reshaping of Europe of those times. The theme is of intolerance and of brutality of punishment. Death by a hundred thousand methods of torture seems to be the favored method of discipline. The most powerful of the kings unabashedly and nonchalantly seem to promote such massacres. Intolerance specifically of religious beliefs was commonplace and wars were waged on the pretext of spreading "one true faith".

I read about another linked story of a Scholar of Mathematics and Philosophy, called "Hypatia". She was a Hellenic, Greek woman, considered in high esteem even by her detractors and was a teacher of Geometry, Algebra and Neoplatonistic philosophy to pupils of all faiths. She was killed in a hapless incident of mob violence, apparently incited out of jealousy of some of the Christian Jury in Alexandria. While this is not very unusual, I am deeply horrified and amazed at the brutality of the killing. According to various accounts of the incident, she was stopped on her way to work, dragged through the streets of Alexandria and stripped. Her flesh was scraped away with sharp tiles, dismembered and her still quivering body was set afire.

Nothing…nothing at all to my mind can explain such hatred for the life of a fellow human being, especially as the women had done nothing except lead a life of a brilliant scholar dedicated study and teaching. According to modern day scholars, her work on Apollonius’s "Conics" and higher order equations to bring about algebraic representation of Sections and Intersections of conics was invaluable. Her commentaries on Mathematics, Astronomy and Philosophy were destroyed by her detractors. The result of this mindless violence was that, 1600 years passed before any advancement could be made on the topics of her research – algebraic representation of conics, their sections and intersections. It set science and mankind behind by several centuries! Acts such as these were what plunged Europe into the “Dark Ages”.

When one researches a little on the most prosperous, the so called Golden Periods of the history of any nation, the opposite theme seems to emerge. The theme is of tolerance and respect. The hatred of women and learned people is conspicuous by absence. The greatest of kings are known for their promotion of religious harmony and treatment of all subjects with utmost respect. Even if there were incidents of the other kind, the perpetrators of these acts have been punished by History, by refusing to note their existence. Tolerance of variety, above everything else was the virtue displayed by the greatest rulers of those times.

It brings to my mind a story concerning the Maratha warrior King Chhatrapati Shivaji, the powerful ruler and founder of the Maratha Empire. This story is part of the folklore that has been sung ever since.
It says, after the siege of Kalyan, the King was offered the extremely beautiful daughter in law of the defeated Subedaar shah, by an uninformed captain. The king dazzled by her beauty addressed her thus "Had my mother been of such unparalleled beauty, I would have been a handsome man too". He sent the women back to her family unmolested and protected. The exact words uttered by the man are arguable, but the fact that the King respected and protected women is beyond doubt. Stories such as this, is what folklore in India is made of.

We may dismiss these tales today as being glorified, utopian or unpractical, but look closely, the age old wisdom and sheer practicality comes shining forth. Talking of Shivaji, one should note that about a third of his army consisted of non Hindus. Also a great many people’s livelihoods would be worsted in the continuous battles raged in the area potentially leading to unrest. His army was a fraction of the size of the powers he fought with. Unadulterated love and respect of all he commanded was crucial to his mission of nation building. Had he shown even slight disrespect to the holy places of other faiths or to any particular section of society, the nascent empire would have been aborted in the womb! No policy could have worked better than that of justice and high moral caliber.

It makes one appreciate how and why great men of the past protected and nourished diversity. But just one look around, and I feel the very fabric of our multicultural society coming apart.

From a people who passionately embraced every fresh thought, ideology, art, language, we are gradually turning into rigid communities; groups that seek to shut themselves in from the “others”. We are trying hard to believe that a monolithic society comprised of people “just like us” is the panacea for all that ails us today. We are at best indifferent to people who not “just like us”. But mostly we are not at our best! So we hate them… and hate them with a frenzy that would put the crusaders of the dark ages to shame. Not all of us take to the streets to kill and incinerate. We nevertheless secretly cheer the perpetrators as long as victims are from the other group. What has happened to us? How did such evil find its way among us? In spite of all our advancements and relative prosperity, have we lost practical wisdom?

We see four year olds rushing to our cars at every traffic signal, filthy and begging. We may throw a penny in their palms but we surely crinkle our noses at their approach as if they stink of poison. We won’t hesitate to slap our maid’s kid for stepping on a wet floor with his dirty feet. We hate the poor for “being there”, constant reminders of the reality that we are running away from.
We form regional groups at workplace, deride the others for their customs and make decisions favoring the ones from our caste, region, and religion. We hate them for being so different.
We biliously smell out nasty gossip about the rich and the famous, and gnaw on it, salivating…never for a minute thinking of the trauma we cause… We hate them for being so rich and famous… for not being just like us!

It scares me imagine how much resentment a billion people are building up in their hearts… each has his own favorite “hate group”. Yes, there is a lot to be unhappy about, lot of frustrations. But is a monolithic society the way out?

It is neither desirable nor possible to chisel out all from the same block. Hoping to achieve such an end can never bring a moment’s peace. Instead, if only we teach our minds to genuinely appreciate that there ARE other points of view, that there is no one “RIGHT” answers in life as there are in school, we would be full of wondrous discoveries every day. It is easy to hate when we don’t “know” those others… when we build walls around us to the high heavens. We need to open the doors and step out; not as wolves in a pack but as individuals. Then we can feel how we are like trees in a wood – all different in their own right, but all a part of the wood. The banyans and creepers are all there; each growing in their capacity, style, place… you can’t set fire to the wood and hope to burn out the creepers only…

We cannot wish those street children away… but it is possible to help them push the street life away. It is stupid to be in a global workplace and wish other cultures away, when there is so much to learn from each other…
It is possible to throw the filth and chaos around us away if we really want to… one act of faith at a time, one moment of consideration at a time, one “NO” to mindless violence at all times….our devices could be different, but the end must be common - dissolving those hate groups from our minds...

Weekend Beckons!

Through with Thursday!!!! Errrr... Ummm... Just about. One day to go and it will be weekend… Yippee!!

Do I hear snickers? The weekend is always round the corner in our industry … is that what you said? Do you know the salary is due this weekend? Ha! Now that’s not always round the corner…Let me give you a sneak peak of my weekend plans!!!

Friday evening, keep up till late night, watch one of the Academy favorites – may be Juno or TWBB…wake up only when sun starts beating down even through the small chinks of bedroom window… Have the laziest and biggest cup of Elaichi flavored tea… eat... eat and eat some more… then go shop… buy new sandals, trousers, may be even change the ancient relic of Nokia 2100 to something more in line with my new, reinvented hi-tech persona (take that seriously). If the distensible bag called stomach lets shove in any more food… Gorge! Gossip… Sleep!!!
Sunday is reserved for the D Victors’ cricket Match. We have to go and WIN the finals!! Wish the D Victors team all the luck!

Ever had a more eventful weekend?