food, cooking and me

Cooking and myself are far apart, in space. The only reason for me to visit the kitchen is to satisfy my insatiable hunger. Insatiable, as i've never seen people of my age eating as much i do. It so happened that a friend was shocked, on seeing me, empty my plate heaped with rice, and there i was, complaining that i my stomach was not full. She had considered herself to be a glutton, until she saw me. Pat, came the reply, 'Mouna, how can you eat so much?'

It did not concern me, when she said this. I'm surrounded by people who skip breakfast everyday, who give lame reasons that food does not enter their throat early in the morning!

However, my parents too realised that i eat a lot. Happy, on the day of the convocation at BVB, for having recieved my diploma certificate, i approached my parents who were seated someplace else. They'd rather speak about the fat that has gained entry into my body, than share my happiness. Celebrating the event in a restaurant, that evening, i was prohibited from eating any fatty food. The ban still continues.

Relatives taunting me on my meagre cooking skills, is a past-time. I am supposed to have accomplished some basic dishes. Well, cousins, younger to me, atleast cook rice, while i'm known for burning rice. My tomato rasam tastes worse than the worst tomato soup available.(Truthfully, i've tried it only once, when mother was ill, she has vowed never to consume rasam prepared by me.)

It's not that i cook terribly, it's just that others' do not fancy my kind of dishes. Asking mother for suggestions, when i'm at a dead end, unable to decide on how to procced. The results have always been disasters, wherein i'm to help, myself in finishing the entire contents. A resolution has been made that my recipes need my touch, only mine. Mother's tips' never help.

Hope that i'll be able to please my folks, with some eatable food. Not that, all my inventions have gone hay-wire. Well, most of them have, but some have been liked peple at home. Once in a blue moon, yes, but they do appreciate.

communication

Communication skills, grades man, higher than a beast. People tend to forget this fact.

Communicaton throws light on every aspect, almost. If it were not to be so, we would still be hunting, wild beasts, and surviving in the stone age period. It happened, by chance. Lo! It turned out to be the biggest boon to mankind. Speech, being one limb of communication, is the most sought after, and the most profitable too. Imagine, a world, where you are sending me a message, with hands, legs tied-up, eyes closed, with the mouth shut, of course. Impossible, is it not?

Afterall, is communication only limited to speech?

Answering in favour of the above question, can be a general opinion. Atleast, most of us, are brought up to think in that manner. Speech is definately not it. Hand signals, movement of the eyes, limbs, all prove to be means as well. It's just that the most prefferable of them all is speech.

Well, i've spent little time amongst those who are devoid of this facility. But, it does not diminish their qualities, creativeness, in any fashion.

One. During my brief stint at painting, i met this 'handicapped' girl. She also used to attend drawing and painting class. Although, she failed in speech, she painted fabulously. Adept in abstract art, she used to draw beautiful forms of ganeshas, moreover in acrylic medium. As far i know, acrylic is not easy. With, hands shaking incessantly, she used to do a wonderful job.

Two. Children(it's quite inappropriate and uncomparable). Off-late, children, and their ways have fascinated me. Luck has favoured me with an oppurtunity of spending valuable time with kids. The kid, in concern is of one and a half year. Obviously, she poses to be a handful. And her communication skills are simply great. Baby-talk is obviously incomprehensible, and the same time, it makes sense. The motions of the hand, the fluctuating banter, etc, can be understood.

At times, i am required to remain silent, as the muscles of my jaws hurt after having spoken for a length of time, or after having laughed continuously. I guess, i should revert back to signalling of the hand, untill, probably, they start to ache.

silence please

Commuting in buses can be fun. Especially if one has company. Friends, books usually accompany me on my journey, to and fro. Reading a book, while standing in a travelling bus, while sitting, in the bus-stop, until i feel uneasy.

Usually, some friend of mine from college, travels along the same route. So, obviously, we get start talking. This process continues until we each our respective blocks, or sometimes we go on, if i meet a classmate.

And it is not the duty of bus conductors or drivers to shush us. I mean, to say that, it's just a way of killing time. We don't meet each other otherwise, or we are packed with classes, so much so that we are allowed ten minutes to lunch.

To top it all, these people, always aim at me. Why, because i've got a louder tone, or i seem to chat most of the time.Whatever!! Why am i picked, always? Even conductors, drivers et al, can provide themselves with entertainment.Who's stopping others from doing as they please.

God save me!

Ps: I guess this is the first time, wherein my blog is serves as a vent, to my feelings(knowingly). As i was,(no prizes for guessing the correct answer) again, ordered to maintain silence, today, pretty rudely at that!!

A particular scene, in a to-be-considered hit movie, has hit me pretty hard.

Don, is a movie, which has been hyped, a little too much, The movie definately does not call for that. What is dissapointing, is the fact that news channels have also joined, in the foray of showing clippings of to-be-released movies. I do agree that movies are news, and more-over, who's stared with whom, and such crap is bigger news. But it does not call for extra time alloted for such paltry material.

Back, to the subject, it is the song where the Kapoor kid, dances with Khan. It starts with Kapoor tearing off her overcoat. Initially, i was shocked to see her fully-clothed. So, her act shouldn't have surprised me. But it is disheartening to add, that she rips off her coat in a hurry, to woo Khan. To top it all, this bit is used by some company to sell their products for which, Kapoor is the ambassador.

Does one have to perform such an act, to be considered sexy, or hot for that matter. Nandita Das looks both. Who told that half-clad women look gorgeous, on second thoughts hot ?

Deepavali has always been interesting. Four families used to celebrate together, after the neighbours were sound asleep. Amidst laughter, photographs were taken to preserve those precious moments. Moments which give immense pleasure.

Presently, we are two families in the same house, with some members missing. Every year, it has been somebody's turn to leave the house, in search of companionship.

At home, earthern lamps are lit through-out the length of the verandah, for two days. Mother always finds it difficult, washing oil stains. The event, of seeing sparkling light, on the ground, in mid-air is simply wonderful.

Electrically-lit lamps are common-place now.But, they cannot replace the warmth of earthern lamps, when lit.

testimony to callousness

They stand as witnesses. Testimony to the violent behaviour of the crowd. A crowd that went berserk, over a public figure. Some were killed, some were injured. But, the fight continued. Most say that a political party is responsible, for the madness that was set afire.

Two petrol stations razed to the ground(if not burnt), two hotels burnt, a mob which pelted stones on every vehicle. Shards of glass, which were to be seen even after, the glowing embers were moistened.

Unruliness ruled when a top kannada actor, died,a natural death. Who is to blame? Is it fate, or is it god? these are the two solutions that a mind resorts to, when in suffering.

I pass a particular hotel, and a certain petrol station, on my way to the bus-stop. Black soot covered the hotel. Reminding me of the flames which burnt it, to be watched helplessly by the rest of us.

Not comprehending the extent of damage incurred, i wondered, as to why the petrol bunk never functioned that day, or for a few more days to come. For a moment, i forgot that, the area was cordoned.

Time passes by, forcing people to thread the same path, over and over again, until the occurance of strange incidents, suddenly. My routine required me to see, the wreckage, the marred appearance, resulting out of human callousness.

Shattered glass, hold proof, to the fight between the law-enforcement wing and the rioters. Burnt rubber, the obnoxious,acrid smell, reaching our lungs, filling us in, on the terrible situation outside our secure homes.

Presently, life's back to normal, things look good, with repaired doors, coloured glass inviting people.

God bless!!

I came across this wonderful line (vaguely) which i've heard twice in the last few days. It may sound silly, but is one of the most intelligent answers that one could ever give.

Picture this, a situation, which i hope, will never be forgotten by me.

A five-year old road is drawing some trees, roads etc. A woman approaches, and questions her as to where a particular road leads. The girl, irritatedly, replies that, the road is stationery, but it is we walk the path, and go various ways.

literally

Contrast or differentiation, both in vague terms, makes an appearance, in guess in all aspects of our daily life.

One such field, is that of languages. Considering that, we have eighteen, state languages(i'm not sure) and an endless list of dialects. Some of the languages bear similarities, as most of them are derived from sanskrit. Others are linked to hindi.

Having come across a similar kind of distingushing character in English, is, in the very least, strange.

We are advised to refer books written by foreign authours, where the discrepency is evident. That between, american english and british english.

English took birth in the United Kingdom, and flourished there. And here, we have the United States of America, which is occupied with people from different roots, so much so that the natives are minimal in number. Apart from that, both countries, adopting english as their state language, it is pretty funny to note that, the developments in the same is different. Slang is associated with America, while literary works are to do with U.K.

That apart, we also have different spellings for the same word. It is understandable, when the accent is varied, whereby the same word can be pronounced in a variety of ways, but can the spelling change?

Biology, and the scientific terms are spelt in two fashions, one the american way, and the other the english style. It sounds foolish, when the english say 'colour' and the americans put it as 'color'.

A funny add-on: i used to read this storybook series. A character, always used to have trouble spelling words, and she used to justify, saying that as long as the word is pronounced properly, the spelling shouldn't matter.

So, here we go, wuman or woman?

I have written on stories, based on the indian way of life. The stories which exude awe, that which mirrors the lives of ordinary people, just like your's and mine.

Chandana, the kannada limb of Doordarshan, has been forcasting, short movies based on short stories penned in the local tongue. It is a delight to watch characters live on screen, trying to emote, the thoughts of the writer.

Though this approach is wonderful, the actors sometimes fail to put a good performance, making the entire concept rather foolish. Others have been enjoyed by the entire family at home.

I try to complete my work, by 8 o' clock on sunday nights, sit in front of the television set, calling out to mother, asking her to join me.

Sundays, talk about a different story, by a different author. While, one highlights the lifestyle of a roadside cobbler, another describes a lecturer's long-forgotten love.

I hope that this series does continue, for Chandana is famous for ending their programmes vey abruptly.

Today... was a holiday....unofficial.... as some would like to put. As far as the Kannadigas' are concerned.... it was a day... to scream.... their views. Views on the border issue..... on Kannada.... making it's presence felt... in primary education.

Everything was shut.... i.e., non-Kannada stuff.....(all shops included..... mother wanted me to buy some groceries...... in vain!), Kannada channels... irrespective... of their airing watchable shows... or not.... got good viewership today. Same.... material...was reapeated.... i guess the news-readers... themselves... would have got bored.

Though... non-Kannada... channels... were not aired..... the tv at home was on... for quite some time today...... i am still surprised.

It was a house-arrest one could say.... with absolutely nothing to do. On the other hand... something did happen.

I believe... that our locality... was a coconut farm previously...... some coconut trees do exist even to this day. Father says... that some of those trees are really old. Say about 60 years or so.

At about ten in the morning... we hears... mantras' being recited. Thus... our interest... piqued... we presented... ourselves.. on the verandah.... after a few minutes. While, mother.... and aunt... investigated.... for this sudden appearance.. of the purohit. Not successful.... in the endeavor... they...vacated.... their respectful positions.

After some time... we see.. a coconut tree.... being.... garlanded... with flowers.... and a puja was also performed. Half-an-hour later... three woodcutters.... start cutting the tree. They went... from top to bottom..... with the road.... littered.... with coconut fronds.... and such.

It is the tendency... of the human mind(a vague generalisation).... to seek pardon... before they wrong... anything. Take this case.... a coconut tree.... according to Hindu mythology is regarded.... or is the kalpavruksha..... that which provides... everything good... to man.
So..... in other to evoke.... the wrath of God..... this particular household..... performed... a sacred ritual.... and then sinned.

Can this be justifiable?

A question to which my answer would be 'no'.

show time!

Dasara is here. It's festival time again in Bangalore. Ayudha Pooja was celebrated today. Though festivals... does not excite me much..... this is different. With shops, houses.... being cleaned.... with smiles lighting up people's faces... dressing themselves in new clothes... distributing sweets. Vehicles, traversing on the roads... decorated with colourful..... ribbons.... flashy.... material et al. BMTC buses.... are prim, irrespective... of whether.... the driver can see through the glass... in the front. Flowers of various hues.... are strung... across wipers.... across.. rear-view mirrors. Plaintains adorning... the sides of the vehicle.

Mysore. With the palace illuminated.... the city is the hub of all cultural activities......

On account of Sarasvati Pooja which is also performed during onne of these days.... i was invited to attend.... the Sarasvati Pooja... at the Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan. At the same time.... we were awarded our diploma certificates. Thankfully... i met some of my friends...... and my teacher. How.... i miss those classes. Someday, i hope that i'll be able to pursue... this fetish of mine.

Cheers!!