I love such roads that take you to a point from where you have nowhere to go. You can only come back. That’s so true of the our mortal journey. It eventually takes you to that point from where we only return back .... in retirement to leisure, in happiness to walk into those still moments of bliss...
Just a passing thought..
My hubby dear is a true animal lover – he simple loveeeeeeeeeessssssssss them.. He must be one of those rare people on earth who see a lamb and love to just keep looking at it.. the way guys ogle at girls.. he would ogle at chicken, fishes, shrimps and above all goats.. I speculate the list speaks of the nature of his love.. He would then lost in his focused gaze say “That would make an absolutely tasty meal.” J
Given his undying love for food especially non-vegeterian dishes coupled with the fact that I am working and have a one year old kid I have invented a couple of dishes the qualify the “fast to cook and good to eat” tagline. In keeping with the spirit of my cooking recently my mother-in-law taught me something that is a cross between Indian and Chinese and it turned out to be really nice (though I say so myself J ). So thought would share that with all…
Take half a kg of chicken cut into small pieces. Add to it 1 teaspoon Soya sauce, 3 table spoon tomato sauce, 1 table spoon refined oil, little ajino motto, 1 table spoon common chicken masala, little ginger garlic paste, a dash of vinegar and salt to taste. Cut 3-4 large onions in rings and mix with it. Just marinate all together and leave for an hour. Take a pan and heat it sufficiently. Add a teaspoon of oil and smear it on the pan. Add the chicken, close the lid, put it on low flame for 20 minutes. It will cook in its own water. Then remove the lid. Put the pan on high till the water evaporates and the chicken piece are burnt slightly on the outside. That’s it. Enjoy eating.
Abidingly in any “introduce yourself” question I proudly declare “I was born and brought up in the steel city of
Small towns have a cult of their own. The fact that they are small makes them so different from the rest. All faces are known, all paths commonly treaded, shops defined and few, space and room in plenty, life content, ambitions high and living simple. In such places you will not stand long with a motorbike gone kaput – help comes handy. The fact that you are known and recognized makes you want be a better person. Life is sans a lot of hassles like traffic, distance, crowds and malls. Schools are little and all go there. So though within a small community but competition is rather fierce. Space is available in abundance. Roads are all yours. The verdure there is not a thing of the past. You still can bike on those long winding roads and feel the breeze through your hair as you zoom.
As for
Inside home the sounds that echo in the labyrinth of memory are so different. “Get back to study” was the most commonly heard phrase at home. And we four siblings could do anything but that. Ashim (the second of we four siblings, I being the eldest) was the smartest and the most mischievous. He would always come up with ideas of exploiting the wealth of resources we had – old magazines, sarees, utensils, instruments and above all those “happy hours” when both mom and dad were away at work. We then literally were the “masters of all we survey”..
I can just go and on.. Its like revisiting a time that you love the most.. Running out on time though..
Till I blog again to complete the rest.. Happy reading..
Some people just have a way with words. They say the mundane, the obvious and the known. Yet the way they put it is so not the ordinary and the heard. During my B School days Gulzar had come down for a guest lecture. And between expressions he cited something, the thought of which makes me feel nostalgic even to this day.
A close friend had commented on my last blog, that it would probably not take another quake to prompt me post my next blog. It took a greater one I guess – someone special entered my life heralding a huge upheaval and turning life completely topsy-turvy.
On eight eight zero eight God gifted me and my husband the most precious gift of our lives – our son Chandranshu. All through life I will carry a very lucid memory of that first glimpse of him on the operation table. The doctor said “Look, he is so much like his father”. I had always wished in some secret corner of my heart that I be blessed with a son (now don’t assume I am a sexist, its perfectly fine to have preferences I guess) and he be like his father. Back on my hospital bed my child lay beside me in his cradle. He was some of my choicest dreams metamorphosed into existence – new, cute, thoughtful and amazed. Eyes laden with sleep, little hands attempting to balance, those cute legs lost in an innocent cycling, those cries and shouts asking us to hold him so close.. Parenthood is difficult for sure.. Your life is completely hijacked I should say, revolving round that little soul. All Priorities reprioritize. All planning falls apart. It like living through days where each moment says ‘what man proposes God disposes’ But the intoxication of motherhood just does not cease to charm. Rediscovering yourself, rediscovering your spouse and your relationship.. its a time of discovery and revelation.. As he grows up so do you. Its like living that life again..
My child creates for me a whole new world. With him I visit emotions that had never knocked by being, I sense a contentment so true that I can hardly believe that it ever be, a hug so close that I really feel like one.. and after all that I can hardly believe that I gave birth to this infinite piece of bliss and joy.
