Build up

After a long time, I am really looking forward to a Kamal movie. They have given it a lot of build up. Here is a peek from youtube.



The movie has passed through the clippers yesterday. People raving about it after seeing the beta version. The audio releases tomorrow.

"Easy" mac

It is normally easy to fix easy mac lunch for kids, as the name implies. Duh! That was the menu for the kids' lunch today. All you do is open the cover, remove cheese packet, pour water upto the mark, zap for 3 minutes, mix with powder and transfer to lunch box. Easy, right? Except that I missed a crucial part. After about 2.5 minutes in the zapper, I noticed that there was an unusual amount of smoke swirling behind the glass door. Opened and almost choked on the fumes. Definitely toxic. Closed the door, opened the windows and the back door to let fresh (cold) air in, so that I could breathe. Luckily, once I threw the container, there was no mess left. Except of course for the smell of smoke that seems to have taken residence with us.

Yep, water is very essential to any kind of cooking!

Palace of Illusions

I usually faithfully read all of Divakaruni's books, though I haven't liked all of them. I was going to wait, but Rads'review intrigued me. That this book is based on one of the greatest epics ever.

I have to say, firstly, that this is a well-written book. Especially if you have read Mistress of Spices. The style is smooth and not at all abrupt.

I have read bits and pieces of the great epic in its English Translation. And as far as I can recollect, I don't think I have read the Draupadi/Karna angle before. May be I skipped that part or may be it is a regional thing. I have always heard that she was devoted to Arjuna. Since reading this book, I have heard of other Bengali works that mention the same angle. And we know that works on the epics can alter a bit, according to the origin of the writer and suspension of reality is a norm in these cases. All the characters are infused with CBD's visions of them - a tiny bit is visible in the spices used for the brinjal fry, the yearning for fish curry and a couple of other instances that struck me as typical Bengali at that time.

Most of the events related coincides with what I have read earlier. Although the viewpoint differs. Divakaruni has weaved Draupadi's personality in such a way that the story flows very well and through her. In fact, all her characters are very well-etched. Kunti is shown as an archetypal mother-in-law, wanting to make sure her position among her sons is unshaken by Draupadi. Kunti's subtle power struggle, Drupad's vengeance, Dhritirashtra's jealousy, Gandhari's wifely devotion, Duryodhan's hatred, Karna's loyalty, Drona's love for his son, they all are very much alive in this book.

Vengeance is what Draupadi learnt in her cradle, and that is what feeds her later in life. As a brash young woman, she is ready with her barbed words. Over time, she learns to tame it some. She is shown not as a paragon, but as someone with a lot of faults. In short, human. And that is true for all the characters in the epic. Even Yudishtra had his faults. As human beings, we are all fallible. To me, that is something Mahabharata teaches - to accept one's faults and learn to live with them.

Then the war. The havoc it causes. When there is no fairness in it (is there ever?). The inhuman side of it. How even good men lose a little of their soul in the killing. (Harry Potter and horcruxes, anyone?) The aftermath, that is worse than the war itself.

Above all, there is Krishna. The cushion that helps devotees when they land hard. Although, there is no sermonizing, far from it. A hindu fanatic might take a cudgel against her for writing Draupadi in such a light, with an improper yearning. But, it needs to be taken as a work of fiction. A fantastic one in that.

The king of pickles

One of the best reasons to look forward to spring, is the advent of the mango season. And it is heralded by the appearance of those tiny baby mangoes. Which brings forth a load of nostalgia.

I have fond memories of my mom using the stone container to marinate the tiny mangoes. And of me finishing half of them before she got around to adding the spices. Older than that memory is the one where I sneaked into my paati's maavadu jaadi, grabbed a handful, washing them in the warm tap water and happily snacking away.

Ever since coming here, I had to satisfy myself with store bought bottles of maavadu, supposedly just like homemade. None of them really had that special taste. Then my uncle-in-law recommended the thangam brand from thaayaar dairy (for the uninitiated, it is near Mambalam station and I highly vouch for it). We were hooked. My luggage on return trips from India definitely included a couple of packs. They are packaged nicely for such trips.

So, when I saw these baby mangoes at the Indian Grocery, I was tempted. I was unsure, but was willing to give it a try. I called my mom for her recipe and tried my hand at pickling. Maavadus can easily spoil if not pickled properly and I was worried that it might not marinate well. So I was shaking the bottle every chance I got, to make sure that they were pickling nicely.

I was hesitant to try it, mainly because I made a very tiny batch and was afraid it would be gone quickly, just like the huge batch of mango pickle (molaga maanga) from last week. Anyway, I found the courage to inaugurate today and I have to say, it has turned out ok. May be not thangam maanga ok, but close. I am thinking I could have made a bigger batch. But then that would have invoked the most famous cooking law - the smaller the amount, the tastier it is - or rather, its corollary.

Spring break!

Had a wonderful vacation, though short!

Sometime back, I read this book, Daughter of the Stars by Phyllis Whitney. It is based in Harpers Ferry, WV. I was intrigued by the place and decided to add it to my vacation plans. It is not too far from where we are and one can spend half a day easily. Most of the interest is due to John Brown, when he raised a voice against slavery, a pre-cursor to the bigger movement. It is at the junction of three states - MD, VA and WV and 2 rivers meet - Shenandoah and Potomac. Shenandoah is an Indian name meaning Daughter of the Stars. Jefferson spent a lot of time here, and there is the Jefferson Rock, which is a great spot from which to view the 3 states. There is canoeing/rafting for those interested. The season starts in April, so it was not crowded. The picture shows the confluence of the two rivers.

From there we drove to Williamsburg, VA (thankfully avoided I495). Since we had already been to colonial Williamsburg a couple of years back, we decided to concentrate on the rest. While the old man spent time chasing holes on the green, the girls and I visited Yorktown and Jamestown. A good doze of history to be had. Then there was Busch Gardens. It was a lot of fun, dug a big hole in our pockets and one day was not enough. We missed some of the shows and it was cold for water rides and the sky ride. But the kids had a wonderful time and so did we.

A short drive brought us to the Chesapeake beach, but it was too windy and too cold to step on the sands. But we loved the underwater bridge tunnels.

There is also the Presidents Park close by, which is worth an hour or so. All the presidents' giant busts, a replica of the oval office and half of airforce one, can be toured in a quick trip. That is Coolidge in the picture, with Abe taking up a little of the background. The kids had fun reading about presidential nicknames (sounds like a Jeopardy category!).

Food was no problem as there are all types of cuisine to be had. The lone Indian restaurant was a pleasant surprise and had a decent fare as well as decor. And that is a lot to expect indeed! The thai place was good too, except the husband decided to order thai hot, which is worse (or better) than Indian hot. Each spoon of Panang curry needed a glass of water.

Like all other good things, it went by quickly and I am already thinking about my next vacation, another mini one, this time to the cradle of liberty!

Raghuvaran no more?

I saw somewhere that he passed away on March 19th due to his alcohol addiction. I haven't seen anything in the major sites. That is a sad tale.

Phenomenon!

A few days back while on the phone with the in-laws, mom-in-law mentioned this remarkarble and unbelievable phenomenon that was on jaya tv as she was talking. Something that someone had not only witnessed, but also recorded with his cell phone. It is now up on youtube.

So siddhars do exist outside of SunTV soaps, eh?

Sad news about writer Sujatha

All good things must come to an end. Came across this article about writer Sujatha's death. Story on Behindwoods.com.

One of the few writers that I read in Tamil, he was well-appreciated among us for his science-themed fiction. The one who made Gino come to life. I didn't know he was Abdul Kalam's classmate.

Sad!

Eastern contemporary dance

Of late, there seems to be a plethora of dance groups performing fusion dances. They are based on classical styles but seems to draw from other styles too. Recently, I happened to watch a bunch of techies in art. A group of collegiates from Bangalore performed a few numbers that were wonderfully choreographed. The music, they said was drawn from various sources - oxygen, morning raga and so on. It was tailor made for their items. There was one on trimurthi, one on Dasavatharam and one on ramayanam. The choreography to depict kaliya nardhanam was awesome, as was the final fight between rama and ravana. The kids enjoyed it too, which is something. And that is the whole point - passing it on to the younger generation. It may have to be adapted, but it cannot be allowed to die.

Out of hibernation

Been some time. I do feel like a sloth, hence the title. I am still getting used to white weather and not sure if I will ever be acclimatized.

I have been reading a lot since I seem to spend a lot of my evenings shuttling the kids to one activity or the other. Madras on rainy nights by Samina Ali was one of the latest. Yet another Indo-American author with her first one. Interesting. Gave a glimpse of muslim India at a depth previously unknown.

Then there is my favorite gaslight mystery series by Victoria Thompson. I have finally managed to get up to date with her books and am eagerly awaiting the next one. Her series deals with murders investigated by an Irish detective and a high-society-born-married-down-widowed-midwife. There is another underlying mystery about the midwife's husband's death and the next book is apparently about that. Set in very late 19th century New York, the police commissioner in the series is Teddy Roosevelt, the soon-to-be prez. I got curious and googled and found that he served as a NY commish for 2 years. The atmosphere depicted seems a lot like India, a few decades back. Could easily be adapted to tamil movies.

On a segue, the little one has started music lessons (carnatic and piano) this month and it is a trial to both the teacher and the parent. She can't sit still for a minute. Looking at the positive side, I am learning to play the piano.

The big baby has turned out to be near-sighted and is proudly wearing her extra pair of eyes. She is extremely happy that she can read the time off the cable box.

Absolute gems

Needless to say, I am a big fan of Shankar Mahadevan.

reel lines

I came across
this article on the most popular lines from movies.

Top 10 must used film lines:

1. "I'll be back." ("The Terminator")

2. "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." ("Gone With The Wind")

3. "Beam me up, Scotty." ("Star Trek")

4. "May the force be with you." ("Star Wars")

5. "Life is like a box of chocolates." ("Forrest Gump")

6. "You talking to me?" ("Taxi Driver")

7. "Show me the money." ("Jerry Maguire")

8. "Do you feel lucky, punk?" ("Dirty Harry")

9. "Here's looking at you, kid." ("Casablanca")

10. "Nobody puts Baby in the corner." ("Dirty Dancing")

We have some like this in Kollywood too. The most popular ones are from the boss, Rajini. In fact, it has become a necessity for his movie to have some "bolded" lines that his fans can repeat. "naan oru thadavai sonna, nooru thadavai sonna mathiri".

There was "thagidu thagidu" from Sathyaraj.

Then from my most favorite movie of all times - "catch my point" and "chinna meena pottu periya meena edukkanum". And there was that "aaay" that was heavily plagiarized from this movie.

Long time ago, they made a movie with Ranjan as the villian, who locked the heroine and spouted - "avaa othinaa iva varuva". Not sure how many people recognize this. This from the days of DD dominance, when watching the sunday night BW movie was a big deal. That line was extremely popular in school. As was "naatha... naathi" from Santha Sakkubai.

What are your favorite lines?

The years go by, as quickly as you wink

I learnt this song a long time back (gosh! has it been THAT long?) in school - Enjoy yourself.

We used to love singing this song, really loud. Well, what do you know, another year rolls around and what do I have, doc tells me I need to check my cholesterol levels and make sure everything is ok. I guess this is the beginning.

I am in denial!

Back in action, slo-mo tho

So I am back! Didn't think I would, did you? New place, new home that's not yet home, mom duty have all kept me quite on my tippy toes. Also, I suspect a lil bit of dep., and the cold weather doesn't help.

Was it a deja-vu that happened today? I am not sure. As I tried to park my car for my habitual gym visit this morning, the lady next to me was trying to back out. Without a backward glance. And I was right there. It took me a frantic couple of seconds to force down on the horn to let her know - excuse me, could you hold on just a second while I park and get out of your way? Missed by a hair's breadth. After an hour's toil, I back out of my space, after waiting for a van to pass. I am pretty sure I braked before trying to change from r to d. Next thing I know, I am stopped by the wall behind me and I am left wondering how that happened. I guess it is better to have a small dent in the bumper than one on my head.

It is kind of unnerving because, recently, I almost missed another such. I was waiting for the left turn light, one late evening. I start to turn, when a car comes rushing straight from the opposite side, not giving a flying eff about the traffic signals. It was too dark to see if this was a sleepy head or a drunk or a devil trying to mow me down. Luckily my brakes held solid and worked at the right time. It took me a long time to stop shaking. At the speed that the other moron was going, he (yea, I say he) could have done some serious damage. And he didn't slow down at all.

Now if only if my brakes had worked as well today too, I could have been saved that embarrassing dent in the bumper.

Ahoy, me hearties!

What is the purpose of a "talk like a pirate" day? I don't know, but it is fun to try.

In case you need a primer

A new chapter

The move is done. Physically to speak. We still have countless boxes to open, cupboards to fill, walls to paint and art to display. It can wait for now. A new routine, a new outlook and a new schedule. Getting used to it all. Weekly visits to see Sri Venkateshwara and eat some yummy prasadam. New places to discover. Would be exciting, if not for the blasted bout of cold.

I feel disconnected to everything, a feeling that it is a vacation, that we are going back to our old home. There is also a feeling that this is not going to be permanent. Is this what it is to be uprooted? Even though the roots were only a decade or so old?

I will have to wait and see how I feel in a month or 2.

My story

I am a widower. Are you curious? You want to know how my wife died? I don't know if I even qualify to be called so. Now you are more intrigued, I can see. My marriage was a joke. In fact, my life so far has been a joke. Played at my expense.

I was quite popular in college, and I say that without any arrogance or conceit. Naturally, fell in love with a pretty girl in class. We carried on for almost 4 years. We broached the topic of marriage to our respective parents. That is where trouble #1 started. I was (am) brahmin-born. She was a Syrian Christian. My parents prevailed. As did hers. Like in the movies, I was forced into a marriage. To a girl I barely knew. And that was trouble #2. Why, you ask? I had apparently married an emotionally unstable woman. In short, a crazy one. She was certifiable. The family thought she would be ok after marriage. Yeah, right! The wedding night turned into a wedding nightmare. No sooner did they leave us alone, she started her act. When I tried to calm her, she turned her crazy claws on me. The kith and kin helped drag her out, leaving me in tatters, literally.

I told them to take her away and get her institutionalized. They didn't. Are you surprised? I was stuck. Not that I cared. I was kind of relieved to be single again. If not Rosie, then I didn't care. When people asked me if I was married, I was not really sure what to say. So, sometimes I said yes and sometimes no. Depending on where I was. My mom was on a guilt trip. It was her brilliant idea to get me married, wasn't it? I had no sympathy.

Then one day, out of the blue, I heard that my wife fell off the overhead water tank and died instantly. At least, she was freed from her suffering. And I am still in the thick of it.

My mom has started pestering me gently about another marriage. She is even willing to overlook religion, language and/or caste. A few years too late, I say.

Inspired by a couple of things - one, someone I know. Two, this.

Caffinity and a question

Not the burning question of the moment. But I got to thinking about my dependence on tea. On to people's dependence/addiction to caffeine. Then wondered how and when it started. Do you remember when you started drinking it? I don't. I remember sitting on my daddy's lap, waiting for the coffee to be "aathufied" so that there was a thick layer of foam on top. Slurping it up so that I had a foamy moustache. I did not want it given little by little, it had to be foamed to the top.

I could not drink anyone else' coffee except my mom's. Peaberry A and Peaberry B with a touch of chicory, well roasted was how she made it. 2 and 1/2 heaped spoons in the filter. First decoction. Not bitter at all. While in college (out of rather, since we cut classes quite a bit then), I tasted woodland's tiffin room's coffee and I loved it. Cafe du monde's coffee made it to the charts too. Until I graduated to flavored coffees at the local bagel store.

A decade ago, I switched my allegiance to tea and have been going strong on that. Especially Trader Joe's chai tea bags, if there is no assam tea handy. Strangely, I have developed an intolerance for coffee. I do like the aroma, and even tolerate it in tiramisu and such. But I am a total tea drinker now. Of late, I have been thinking of may be giving it up. May be. Or Not.

So the question is this.
When did you first start drinking coffee/tea?

(note: this will not kill any cats)

close encounter of a moushy kind

During my last trip to homebase, as usual, trudged along to the alphabet cloth store for the customary shopping mania. "Pall"avan, our rented car's driver, dropped us off at the corner, and went off to park. Pallavan, if I were to describe him, was a couple of teeth, sticking to a reed, with a mop of curls attached. May be he lacked some fat in the cranium too. We come back after a few hours (more or less), look for him outside the store, in the busiest section of Chennai. The kids are hungry and so are we. Finally spot him, or rather he spots us and we follow him with our 2 huge alphabetized bags. We go to this underground parking, which unbeknownst to us, belongs to the brahmandamana store, owned by the veshti clad country fella. We walk towards the car. We are stopped. At first, all I see is this humongous "meesai". Attached to the meesai is a hefty with a baton. He won't let us go. I am told to go the brahmandamana store and buy something for at least 100 Rs. As it is, I am not impressed with the wares sold here, and on top of that, I am being forced to buy. I might even have thought about it, except that the kids were starving. It would have meant at least 1/2 hour to finish the purchase. So I tell meesai, no way dood. Babies are starving, senti mummy stuff. Meesai is tough. Pallavan decides to play hero. He didn't know we were going to the 'wrong' store Probably true, ding bat that he was. We manage to get in the car. Meesai brings 2 adiyaals. Pallavan's rattham boils. Words traded. Strong ones. I had to intervene and play the women alone with kids angle, strongly. Quite strongly. My mind was running headlines - women accosted in underground parking. Finally, they decide to let us go. Relieved to have averted that scuffle.

After that day, I preferred using the friendly neighborhood autokarans.

Alphabet clothing store needs to provide parking.

Recent Books

A mini-vacation (as in not the usual work) gave me a chance to read a couple of interesting books. Both were by 2nd generation Asian immigrants and part of the reason I was drawn to them. Of late I have been getting into this subject, probably because I am nodding my head a lot while reading them.

Hindi-Bindi Club by Monica Pradhan

There was so much I could relate to in this book. It was a quick and engrossing read. The recipes that were woven into the story made it a little more real. Each chapter had some kind of food thrown in, with the recipe(s) added after that chapter. The story itself was so believable. Having a few close friends like the protagonists made it more real for me. Not exactly chick-lit, but close.

Funny in Farsi by Firoozeh Dumas

Another 2nd generation memoir, that is mildly funny. Made me think that they are not much different. She writes about the different types of uncles and aunts and I could so relate to that.

Some more books that I hope to read in the near future:
Desirable Daughters by Bharati Mukherjee (No, haven't read it yet!)
I might also give Amulya Malladi's books a chance, starting with the Mango season.
Monsoon Diary by Shoba Narayan

Then there is Khalid Hosseini's thousand splendid suns, a must read.

As usual, so many books and so little time.