Feb 24, 2007

The essence of taste!




Have you ever wondered how words can almost never capture the essence of "taste”? So many paeans have been written in favor of " the eloquent eyes" and "the lustrous hair", "the tongue" has sadly missed out on the ratings game!


Can you ever recreate the zing of पानीपूरी, which you tasted in your neighborhood thela as a child?

How would you appraise the lingering sweetness, the syrupy crispness of hot delicious जलेबी of the nukkad halwai, which transported you straight to the culinary heaven?


How would you measure the warmth you felt while sipping the कुल्ल्हर की chai with your dad while he explained 'what being a man meant’ on some obscure railway station, some many many years ago?


Can you ever forget the midnight forays into Maggi noodles, toast and black tea in your hostel room , which tasted nothing short of divine ambrosia at that ungodly hour…


The perfect chicken tandoori and the first bottle of rum you had in that roadside dhaba somewhere on the Delhi--Chandigarh highway which did more than quench your hunger and thirst!


The first burnt chappati of your wife cooked in frustration, but eaten with relish and all the emotions which would appear bland if expressed in words…


The taste of the first glass of निम्बू पानी which your seven year old daughter prepared for you...


Can you ever recapture the unparalleled uniqueness of what you have tasted, through trite words?

Tattered night-gown and the hole in the arm-pit !



Feel totally out of touch with the “SAAS-BAHU”sagas on television nowadays.

More than once have found myself to be the odd-man out among friends who vociferously defend the Tulsis and Parvatis and participate in their lives!

For one, do not have a saas, 
just a very understanding father-in-law...

Also just do not have the heart to sit and squirm in my tattered nightgown and 
watch the oh-so-noble-and-perfect kanjeevaram clad bahus.

Maybe I HAVE given up the pretence of being a “ NICE” girl

HELL, it’s more fun being ME

confused 
irritable
bitchy 
scattered 

and 

imperfect ….

the tattered nightgown with it’s hole under the armpit !

No Hurry ...

As I drove to drop Soumya to school I marveled at how the cars, buses had arranged themselves on the road.
Everyone seemed in a hurry to go somewhere
Everyone looked purposeful 

and ready to go somewhere, 
anywhere...
to do something…screaming , scurrying...honking !!


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… The driver honked impatiently. " Sahib, these sheep always come in the way and disrupt traffic." We were on our way to Rohtang pass near Manali, looking forward to a good vacation. A large flock of sheep in front of us sauntered haphazardly, absolutely in no hurry!

Everyone looked content just lazing, 
content in being nowhere
relaxed and unconcerned
There was no hurry ...

Pencil sharpenings

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As children, I remember how we used to sharpen our blunt HB Apsara pencils to needlelike points.

Layers of sharpenings would fall to reveal newer surfaces, sharper tips: every blunt point meant that another sharpening session was long overdue.

…Journey in life has been very similar.

 While the sharp points of accolades and triumphs have added joy to every moment, the greatest breakthroughs have come from the blunt ends, the frustrated moments of low self-esteem, from the so-called failures. 

Every closed door has lead to a window of opportunity in personal transformation. 

Every sharpening has revealed some resplendent part inside of me, a very important part that had been kept under wraps

A teardrop

Was that a drop of tear I saw glistening near his eyes? I will never know because he turned his face away, as soon as he heard th...