It's really deep. In many ways, I'm proud to say this, my mom in law is very, very broad-minded. The really important things like an idiotic (novice) daughter-in-law who is illiterate when it comes to customs and traditions and Marathi, of course...although, I'm getting better at the language. But when it comes to food, except when I cook it, she has very strong dislikes and prefers to starve than to do something totally out of the expected and ordinary, like eat a curry cooked only in wine. She might even cook it for us but eat it...no way!
She spent a few weeks in Europe, mostly London, at the home of this friend of my dad in law. His Italian wife cooked a meal for them that had almost everything on the menu cooked, glazed, or marinated in wine. My mom in law said that she didnt eat a bite of anything. Even in hunger, so I dont know what she did after that meal. I, on the other hand, am probably the daughter in law from hell the way I can chase all the things that she runs away from. Of course, she doesnt know it :) and it's going to stay that way even if I have to swear off a few things.
We can talk about almost anything. Almost. This is where I would rather shut up and let her do the talking. It's not even the generation, I guess, it's the gap of a traditional mother and her very untraditional (although I'm not very liberal either) daughter in law.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Rainy day today!
After weeks of clear skies and dry earth, it finally started raining cats, dogs and little white elephants today. It's grey for miles and miles and the mountains surrounding our buildings are all misted over. On really cloudy days, the mountains and the skies merge to create one shade of grey as far as the eye can see. And lucky me gets to work from home.
I still dont miss working at an office. As long as this arrangement works fine, I'm happy to work alone. I think better and work faster. As my job chiefly involves writing and creating ideas, I get to do plenty of that without distractions, without meetings, without colleagues dragging you for coffee or chats. Ok, I miss the coffee and chats and eating spicy Chicken pulao with brown, caramelized onions at this great dhabaesque restaurant, especially in the rains. But work's happening just great. And, I neednt worry about adding a few kilos.
The weekend looks great. The hubby is thinking of going the TGIF way for Saturday - fried chicken-cheese sausages, beers, burgers, and maybe Thai Flat noodles with shrimps (my idea).
Talk about no distractions! Hope this week flies past.
I still dont miss working at an office. As long as this arrangement works fine, I'm happy to work alone. I think better and work faster. As my job chiefly involves writing and creating ideas, I get to do plenty of that without distractions, without meetings, without colleagues dragging you for coffee or chats. Ok, I miss the coffee and chats and eating spicy Chicken pulao with brown, caramelized onions at this great dhabaesque restaurant, especially in the rains. But work's happening just great. And, I neednt worry about adding a few kilos.
The weekend looks great. The hubby is thinking of going the TGIF way for Saturday - fried chicken-cheese sausages, beers, burgers, and maybe Thai Flat noodles with shrimps (my idea).
Talk about no distractions! Hope this week flies past.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Sweetness...
...the sweetness of a day muted by sun pouring through thick, black clouds.
...the sweetness of mixed fruit jam
...the sweetness of a day spent in spirit-fulfilling work interwoven with brief spells of PG Wodehouse
...the sweetness of welcoming my husband home early
...the sweetness that weekend is around the corner
...sweetness playing on all senses, sight, sound, taste and a million others I'm discovering
Today should officially be the world's sweetest day!
...the sweetness of mixed fruit jam
...the sweetness of a day spent in spirit-fulfilling work interwoven with brief spells of PG Wodehouse
...the sweetness of welcoming my husband home early
...the sweetness that weekend is around the corner
...sweetness playing on all senses, sight, sound, taste and a million others I'm discovering
Today should officially be the world's sweetest day!
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Rain is falling!
It rained last evening. From 7 pm onwards there was a thick breeze, tightening a few knots here and there, bursting through the leaves of every tree and raising gathered dust in cyclonic thrusts. It tempted me greatly to get out and walk all the way to the library, across the main road; get out from the sidelines and get into the fray. Which I did, getting soaked on my way there, getting splashed from bikes, cars and children and either tripping my way into puddles or feeling the cement blocks shift from under my feet when in one.
And to top off everything, i got lost in my own backyard. There's this maze of buildings called Vrindavan and I entered it (it's always on my way home) confidently only to stop and stare a few times at unrecognizable signboards and lanes. I wanted to find a particular shop where they sell good, homemade, hot food to supplement the supper at home. And ended up finding it only after I'd gone so far ahead, I'd reached the very periphery and never even realized how I got there.
Getting lost in a concrete jungle may not make you see a tiger or two but was certainly scary as it poured and I kept walking towards lonely, puddle-filled corners that I'd never seen before.
Finally, of course, after reaching the periphery, I could manage to recognize the alternate lane to go to that shop. Carrying hot chapatis and warm zunka, I trudged home, a slight flush of victory and near-abandon on my face.
The morning I woke up to today wasnt sunny at all, it was slightly drizzling and it's increased its tempo now that I sit to write at my computer. It's a beautiful morning and I'm just bursting to enjoy it.
And to top off everything, i got lost in my own backyard. There's this maze of buildings called Vrindavan and I entered it (it's always on my way home) confidently only to stop and stare a few times at unrecognizable signboards and lanes. I wanted to find a particular shop where they sell good, homemade, hot food to supplement the supper at home. And ended up finding it only after I'd gone so far ahead, I'd reached the very periphery and never even realized how I got there.
Getting lost in a concrete jungle may not make you see a tiger or two but was certainly scary as it poured and I kept walking towards lonely, puddle-filled corners that I'd never seen before.
Finally, of course, after reaching the periphery, I could manage to recognize the alternate lane to go to that shop. Carrying hot chapatis and warm zunka, I trudged home, a slight flush of victory and near-abandon on my face.
The morning I woke up to today wasnt sunny at all, it was slightly drizzling and it's increased its tempo now that I sit to write at my computer. It's a beautiful morning and I'm just bursting to enjoy it.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Golden Twilight
Yellow light is streaming in through the sliding panes of my window, gilding the skin of my fingers as they tap away on the keyboard. The tint of the evening is yellow and pink, the two tones of the sky as the afternoon melts away into a golden twilight. The sky is heavy with clouds...soon they will overrun with the spring of life, streaming from the heavens, slipping like Amul butter through the cracks of toast and drizzle all over the 'sunny-side-up' landscape.
Let's hope it rains tonight. Let's hope to wake up to the earthen smell of mud and water.
Let's hope it rains tonight. Let's hope to wake up to the earthen smell of mud and water.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Qasiru - student by day, samurai by night
"Qasiru"
When the sensei takes your name, you respond. Qasiru knew this as an instinct, it wasn't just discipline. But today, the sensei's voice seemed to echo from the Blue Mountains of Kanchengunga, the way it seemed so distant and obscure.
"Present"
Satisfied with the response, the sensei seemed to retreat back into the cloudy mists of the Blue Mountains. Qasiru drew back into the meditative realm of her mind.
If she focused hard, she saw her mother's face. Lost in the swirling typhoons of time, her mother remained just a memory, a blurry memory that had no before or after. It had no shape nor form, just a veil of mist through which she could see her mother's face looking at her. Walin said she could come back to her, through meditation and then a series of exercises using just the initial memory of her face. It would be better if Qasiru wasnt well rested, for the unconscious would merge into the conscious and create a visual clip that non-believers called 'hallucinations'.
Walin believed that hallucinations were true. Whether Qasiru could believe in it as well remained to be seen.
Samurais fought for the greater cause. Could her search for her mother be a greater cause than bringing Japan's history back? Or was it getting a bit blurry too, the distinction between professional and personal?
When the sensei takes your name, you respond. Qasiru knew this as an instinct, it wasn't just discipline. But today, the sensei's voice seemed to echo from the Blue Mountains of Kanchengunga, the way it seemed so distant and obscure.
"Present"
Satisfied with the response, the sensei seemed to retreat back into the cloudy mists of the Blue Mountains. Qasiru drew back into the meditative realm of her mind.
If she focused hard, she saw her mother's face. Lost in the swirling typhoons of time, her mother remained just a memory, a blurry memory that had no before or after. It had no shape nor form, just a veil of mist through which she could see her mother's face looking at her. Walin said she could come back to her, through meditation and then a series of exercises using just the initial memory of her face. It would be better if Qasiru wasnt well rested, for the unconscious would merge into the conscious and create a visual clip that non-believers called 'hallucinations'.
Walin believed that hallucinations were true. Whether Qasiru could believe in it as well remained to be seen.
Samurais fought for the greater cause. Could her search for her mother be a greater cause than bringing Japan's history back? Or was it getting a bit blurry too, the distinction between professional and personal?
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