Dudh Pauva recipe for Sharad Poonam

A lot of readers have come here searching for doodh pauva recipe. I had mentioned it quite some time back in this post about some two-minute snacks i indulge in.

Here's a better, richer version for the doodh pauva you make for Sharad Poonam (or Kojagiri Purnima as we call it), an auspicious full-moon day in the Hindu calender. This recipe is not a two-minute thing though :) This is how my grandmother makes special masala milk for poonam. She spends a lot of time and effort to thicken the milk considerably due to evaporation. This involves a close vigil and constant stirring. I have never made this myself but sharing what I have seen her do, shortening the time to suit impatient souls like me.

Ingredients:

Pauva (flat rice flakes) - 1 cup (Washed well in potable water and kept aside soaked in little water minutes before serving. Washing a lot or soaking for a long period will make it mushy, and you don't want that)
Milk- 500 ml, preferably full fat
Kesar* strands- half a teaspoon
Elaichi*- 2-3, crushed to fine powder
Peeled soaked almonds- 6-7
Raisins (washed well and dried), Kaju*, Pista if available.
Sugar

First you must prepared flavoured (or masala) milk. For this, heat kesar in a thick steel spoon or cup for 10-15 seconds directly over the flame, do not burn and keep stirring with another spoon. The spoon / vadki* you have used to heat kesar will get hot, so handle with care. Crush the heated kesar well using another spoon. Add a spoonful of milk to this and set aside.

Boil milk in a heavy bottomed pan on low flame Add sugar (about two-three tablespoons should be enough, adjust according to taste) and stir constantly. Constantly. Bring to boil. Let it simmer and come to boil two more times, this should take about 10-15 minutes. Do not increase the flame, be patient and boil on low flame or you will burn the milk. I feel it's better to have hot, favoured milk than thick creamy evaporated milk that is badly burnt and so is useless.

About 2-3 minutes before switching off the burner, add chopped almonds, cashew, pista and raisins (whole) and elaichi powder. Also add some more milk to the soaked kesar you have kept aside and add this to the boiling milk. Make sure you up all the kesar extract in the cup.

With this, the flavoured milk part is done. We usually have just this.

Aaji soaks very little pauva separately for ceremony's sake sometime. Not everyone likes the taste of sweetened pauva, so I suggest you also do not add all the soaked pauva to flavoured milk at a time. Instead, you can add spoonfuls to milk as desired by guests. I like this milk (and pauva) chilled, many prefer it hot.

*Pauva / Poha / Cheere- Flat rice flakes used in many Indian snacks
Kesar- Saffron
Elaichi- Cardamom
Kaju- Cashew
Doodh- Milk
Vadki- A small (steel) bowl in Gujarati


Masala milk for doodh pauva that Aaji made on October 23, 2010

Happy Dussera...

After so many years, I am celebrating Dussera the Gujju way, with fafda and jalebi for breakfast. You have no idea how much I have missed these, and the delicious grated raw papaya chatni and fried green chillies that go with these deep-fried snacks..

Fafda, jalebi, cholafali ane papaya ni chatni

And then, my faithful two-wheeler got all the credit that's due to it on this day.


Am so used to zooming off on this, trying to drive a car seems cumbersome. After two paid driving lessons for a fortnight each, it's high time I start driving. But that would be unfair to my Activa...

***

So, how did you celebrate today? Happy Dussera!

Can widowed women wear gajra?

Lijit shows interesting statistics of searches that land people on my blog.



Can widowed women wear gajra? (Gajra = small floral garland worn in hair)

Several questions come to my mind when I come across similar seemingly trifle choices that are burdened with societal or religious stereotypes. I had written a post on the subtle social insistence of Nirmamish* food for widows in Bengal in some educated, forward families even today, in a post titled The Politics of Food. Now, when I read the keywords of this search, I asked myself:

1) Who is this reader?

2) Whom is he/she trying to find the answer for?
a) A relative b) Herself?

3) Why does the person seek an external justification / denial?

4) Who is qualified to answer the controversial 'Can' of the question?

a) Religion? b) Society? c) Family? d) an unknown blogger like me???

5)Is there any specific mention in a religious text to deny a widow such trivial pleasures?

6) If any such mention has been interpreted from the texts, is that fair? Or still applicable in the present context?

6 a) Can't human rationality question certain antiquated religious/societal diktats?
7) What significance do flowers and a gajra carry in an Indian woman's life?

8) Do flowers convey any specific romantic or spiritual message that makes daily life more enjoyable?

Many of the above questions are subjective and will have a different (and justifiable) solution each depending on each individual's set of beliefs... My concern is what happens when we stop making distinctions between personal thoughts and societal parameters. When we are unable to pinpoint our real feelings about a certain issue in juxtaposition to the 'accepted' social or intellectual norm...

Let me try and understand the rigid regulations imposed on widows in an early social context. Imagine India in the 1800s.

Girls were married off before 10, became mothers as early as 13 or 14. The British, whatever their imperial oppressions may be, did try and modify some such counterproductive social structures. I was shocked to read that Lokmanya Tilak vehemently opposed the progressive 1891 Age of Consent Act arguing that the British had no business interfering with an accepted "Hindu" practice. Today, intercourse with a 10-year-old girl is considered an unspeakable, loathsome crime.

So dejected was Raja Ram Mohan Roy when his reformist articles in Sambad Koumudi were booed down by the powerful Brahmin lobby, that he gave up publishing his newspapers. Though he was monumental in getting the *Sati ban implemented in Bengal, the practice continued for many years to come.

Every society hides skeletons in its closet. Because of the grace of social and religious sanctions on many immoral and unfair past practices, we are uncomfortable discussing the injustices meted out to Hindu widows. In my understanding, food restrictions for widows were meant to restrain a widow from eating 'tamasic' food that might rekindle her worldly desires. Drab clothing and tonsured heads served to make her look as unappealing as possible. Seclusion ensured that she was not violated. All these measures to safeguard a vulnerable woman from the lust of society and predators even in the immediate family invariably failed. And so the *Sati system. There is logic in each of this restriction which is a consequence of the previous. But in general, all such restrictions boiled down to this : One less mouth to feed, one more woman to manipulate. A simple solution was widow remarriage and this reform took gargantuan efforts by a brave few to be socially relevant.

Jyotiba Phule and his wife were ostracized and abused when they tried to educate girls in the mid 1800s. And yet, the seed of reform Jyotiba and Savitri sowed was instrumental in slowly removing orthodoxy from Maharashtra's lower and middle-class, as opposed to the state of affairs in Bengal where intellectual stimulation, debates and reform largely remained a prerogative of the elite.

Discussed above was a larger picture of society and how it dealt with widows in the 1800s. Coming back to 2010 and the specific question of wearing a gajra. In those times, a widow thinking of wearing a gajra would have been beaten black and blue. My surprise is that you, my dear reader, are prodding the question almost 200 years later, in an age virtually suffocated by individual freedom. What is wrong with you??

Let me put it thus: Flowers, kumkum, colourful sarees, ornaments are all a woman's means of expression of happiness, vitality, joy and hope. Mirra Alfassa even believed that flowers are a means of delving into a divine, spiritual nature. When a woman is widowed, it is but natural that her grief causes her to reject these on her own for the immediate period of loss. But should her initial expression of sorrow continue to dominate her life ever after? Who has the right to decide what manner of grieving is suitable and accepted for a widow? Not me and you, not at least in this time and age.

Regulation and restrain is central to a civilized society that must function smoothly. But equally important is freedom of thought and deed. A woman is infinite times more vulnerable than a man and so she needs infinite times more understanding and support from the society. Within the ambit of the topic of this post (gajra or not) I think it's high time that we shake ourselves off from the hangover of irrelevant social and religious codes of conduct.

If you ask me, yes, a widowed woman can wear a gajra. For even if she is a widow, she doesn't stop being a woman. And like my father once said, to look beautiful is a woman's birthright...


* Niramish: Food made without onion, garlic and non-vegetarian ingredients

* Old custom of a widow immolating herself (with consent or forcefully) on the pyre of her husband. As many as three Sati cases were reported in India after 1987, the latest as recent as in 2008.

Edited to add on October 10, 2010

Have you seen Water (2005)?

An attempt by Canadian filmmakerDeepa Mehta to portray the inhumane restrictions on Hindu widows in this film met with stiff resistance from Hindu political activists. Following violent protests, the filming was banned in India. The production was delayed for five years. Mehta persevered and shot in Sri Lanka instead of Varanasi. Lisa Ray, John Abraham and Srilankan child artiste Sarala Kariyawasam essayed the characters beautifully. The result was a poignant depiction of stark, painful reality that many wanted to ignore like an ostrich.

What I want to say is this: Our religion is too open, beautiful and vast. Acceptance of such bitter truths won't in any way reduce its glory..

A party for four

I had planned a homely little party for four.

For starters I made potato-cheese balls shown on a Marathi cookery show called 'Aamhi Saare Khavayye'. I also deep-fried baby corns in the same pepper-cornflour batter used for potato wada. Strawberry jam squeezed on Monaco biscuits topped with cheese gave a namkin* touch.

For the main course was Khoya mutter, with khoya made from milk-powder in microwave. Thank you Sangeeta for this quick, hygienic and delicious trick. On the side were butter corn and onion-mushrooms. Yellow and red capsicums, which I used for the first time, added a brilliant dash of colour to these items.

For the dessert, I made mango ice cream using this super-easy recipe given on Homecooked .



*Namkin = Sweet-sour-salty snacks
* Khoya= Granule-like remain after milk is boiled at length and finally evaporated. Used in a majority of Indian sweets
* Mutter= Green peas

Ganesh Chaturthi 2010 and delicious Olan

Today is Ganesh Chaturthi and I bow down to Ganapati with all humility and hope. My grandmother decorates the little family idols very aesthetically each day, but special occasions call for special tribute.



Ganesha is also called Vighnaharta or Vighneshwar, the one who removes obstacles. Vighna means obstacles in Sanskrit. He is prayed first before starting an important task, be it laying the foundation stone of a house, starting a business or anything ambitious that needs the grace of God.



God has not disappointed me thus far. In spite of the many obstacles, there's this faith that things will eventually be fine and they have. So, as we embark on a series of festivities and auspicious dates from today, I resolve to maintain my enthusiasm and faith in the time to come. Ganesha, continue to protect me, my family and my loved ones.



Ganapati is also the official foodie of all Gods, so the huge tummy. Therefore the name Lambodar... Talking about food, I made Olan today, following Maiji's recipe given in a beautifully written nostalgic post. The 82-year-old is a very active blogger and you must read her blog Memories and Musings - Life in Pondicherry. (You may want to read an article on other senior citizens who are active bloggers in this article. I wrote it almost a year back)

Olan is a popular dish made in Kerala with pumpkin, coconut milk, green chillies and curry leaves being the main ingredients. Add potatoes and green beans to enhance the flavour.



I made a few changes in Maiji's recipe though. I started with a tadka of jeera*, hing*, curry leaves and one slit green chilli in ghee*. Then I added potato, sauted it for 1-2 minutes and added about 2-3 cups of water. After five minutes, I added long beans and followed the recipe till the end. We usually grind green chillies in a mixer with salt and lemon juice and use this paste in all dishes.. In addition to the slit green chilli in the tadka, I used about 2-3 spoonfuls of this paste in the Olan I prepared, for the coconut milk, pumpkin and potatoes give the dish a slightly sweetish bend. Adjust according to taste.

I surfed several Olan recipes online and none mention the tadka, instead, all call for pouring 2-3 spoonfuls of coconut oil towards the end. But, even if the tadka version may not be authentic, I assure you it turns out every bit as delicious.



* Jeera= cumin, Hing = Asafoetida and Ghee = clarified butter.

** Do not use photos without permission.

Divaso judaai na- Gani Dahiwala- A translation

Gani Dahiwala, born August 17, 1908 was a Gujarati poet with numerous soulful gazals to his credit. I heard this particular gazal being hummed by my father when quite a child. Baba even met Mr. Dahiwala at his residence in Surat sometime in the early 70s (Dahiwala died on March 5, 1987). Recently, the lines from Divaso judaai naa were quoted by a friend on a social-networking site. Years show things in different, if not better, light and now I could appreciate the melancholy of the song much better. What's more, on You Tube, I found it sung by Md. Rafi...



It has been immensely challenging to even attempt a translation and I have been putting away the idea for a good few months now. Last evening, though, things started moving and today, I have here with me an English translation. It is not literal, and it is in a way in which the words make meaning to me.

The stanza "Tame raank na chho ratan..." was particularly hard. I asked my father for help but I could not relate to his interpretation and so, here it is in the form that makes sense to me.

This translation is a super-micro effort to make Gujarati poets / works more accessible on the net. It was disappointing that there aren't many online archives to document Gujarati poets and authors. This observation, though, I admit, is limited to the Google search I did for Dhoomketu, Gani Dahiwala and Kavi Kalapi... But I take the risk of assuming that yes, database on Gujarati works is limited — translations rarer.

Here goes the translation:

Divso judaai na jaye chhe
Ae jashe jaroor Milan sudhi
Maro haath jhali ne lai jashe
Muj Shatruo j swajan sudhi


I am certain the days of separation will lead to union;
With my hand in theirs, my enemies will lead me to my loved ones...

Na dhara sudhi na gagan sudhi
Na unnati na patan sudhi
Fakt aapne to jau hatu
Ek mek na man sudhi...


I didn’t aim for the earth or the sky,
Nor did I want to witness the abyss that comes after a pinnacle.
All I wanted was for us to know each other’s hearts.


Tame raank na chho ratan samaa
na malo ey aansuo dhool ma
Jo araj kabool ho aatli
to hriday thi jaao nayan sudhi


You are like a jewel desired by the destitute, (so) those tears of disappointment are vain...
If only you could accept this little request, try knowing first by the heart and then with eyes...

Tame raaj rani na cheer sam
Ame rank naar ni chundi,
Tame raho tan par ghadi be ghadi
Ame saath daiye kafan sudhi...


You are like the attire of a queen, I am the rags worn by a tramp.
You stay on the body but momentarily, I accompany till the grave.


Jyare hriday ni aag wadhi Gani,
Khud Ishware j kripa kari
Koi shwas bandh kari gayu
Ke pavan na jaye agan sudhi...


When it became too unbearable, God himself came to my rescue,
Someone cut off my life breath, or no one’s stoking my desires any more...


Translated by Gauri Gharpure, July 28, 2010

If you like this, also read and listen to my English translation of Bela Bose by Anjan Dutt

My post published in a Mysore newspaper

Photo Credit: G V Krishnan

The Mysore Mail is now publishing posts by bloggers of The Mysore Blog Park fraternity every Sunday. This July 4, my post Pros and Cons of Selective Blogging was taken up, along with Abraham Tharakan and Anjali Philip's lovely articles...

:)

Gol-Kaanda-Keri / Tangy raw mango, onion, jaggery mix

I wanted to post this recipe since a long time. Gol-kaanda-keri is made in Gujarat a lot when summer is at its peak. The ingredients are a combination believed to safeguard from sunstroke and dehydration. We use it as a chutney, but there is no grinding involved, so I am not sure if this qualifies as a chutney.This is one of the few recipes from my mother whose taste we can reproduce quite well.

Recipe:

Grate a medium-sized raw mango and a largish onion. The onions I used were too small, so I chopped them. You can either chop or grate onions, but the original recipe calls for grating. Take about 2-3 large cubes of jaggery and using a knife, flake it in the bowl you will prepare the chutney.



Add grated mango, onion, salt to taste and a generous amount of red-chilli powder. This mix tends to water a lot and in less than five minutes, you will be able to mix all the ingredients well in the small bowl. Do not go less on the jaggery, sweet and sour tastes must be in perfect balance, if not more on the sweetish side. This is meant for Gujju taste as well as climate, but I think it is very interesting due to its mix of ingredients. Give it a try sometime...



Question

Should I post recipes on a separate blog or write here itself. Please share your suggestions..

Seesaw

Life's lately been a
seesaw. Up down Up again.
What more can I say?

:)

Kachi keri ni chatni / Raw Mango Chutney

Food restores me like nothing else. And now that my blog is being neglected quite a bit, I thought I might as well break the silence with a few recipes.



Now, I feel chutney is something that hardly needs a recipe, mango, mint and coriander are the very basic ingredients. But then, I feel cooking is not about knowing what to cook and how, it is rather a process of being inspired to cook, on as regular a basis as possible, so that on your platter you have different variations of even the basic comfort food.

The sight of good food can compel you to take efforts in your kitchen too. That's why I keep reading so many food blogs. These wonderful women — Sailu, Shilpa, Shahana, Nupur, Indira, Sangeeta, and the valuable exception Mr Ushnish Ghosh — they work up such magic, that I have to admit that if I care to cook a little more than I used to, it's because of the interest they have inspired in me. I hope this mention of a humble chutney will inspire you to try out many different tangy-hot versions yourself..

Recipe:

The photo is of the mint-mango variety.

In a mixer, grind about 50 gm of chopped mint, half a raw mango, two green chillies, teaspoon of jeera (cumin), salt and sugar with very little water. I always grind all the ingredients without water first and then slowly add 2-3 tablespoons of water while grinding for the 2nd or 3rd time.

I found that instead of mint, coriander goes better with raw mango. The same recipe, using about 50 gm coriander instead of mint tasted infinitely better and retained a wonderful raw green colour that I am so fond of.

Add 2-3 cloves of garlic to the above mix, and you get another splendid taste. However, avoid using sugar when using garlic.

Note: I am not too specific about the quantity of coriander and mango. Use up whatever is available with you, adjust spices accordingly and you will get tasty variants each time. For example, if you use red-chillie powder instead of green chillies and use roasted cumin powder with garlic, the taste is very different.

Prepared thus, and stored in a clean bowl in the fridge, the chutney can last for 3-4 days. It will thicken / dry up and if you want, you can grind it again in a mixer with a little water and salt/chillie to taste after a day or two.

Meet Yahoo

If I were

If I were a month, I’d be September !

If I were a day of the week, I’d be Saturday !

If I were a time of day, I’d be Dawn!

If I were a season, I’d be Summer !

If I were a planet, I’d be Mercury !

If I were an animal, I’d (like) to be a Woman (again)!

If I were a direction, I’d be West !

If I were a piece of furniture, I’d be a Bench under a tree !

If I were a liquid, I’d be Nimbu pani!

If I were a tree, I’d be a Neem Tree !

If I were a tool, I’d be Long-nosed Plier !

If I were an element, I’d be Gold!

If I were a gemstone, I’d be Ruby!

If I were a musical instrument, I’d be Sanza!

If I were a color, I’d be Light green !

If I were an emotion, I’d be Hope !

If I were a fruit, I’d be an Orange !

If I were a sound, I’d be the sound of birds !

If I were a car, I’d be ...?? !

If I were food, I’d be Khichdi Kadhi !

If I were a taste, I’d be Sweet and Sour !

If I were a scent, I’d be Anais Anais !

If I were a pair of shoes, uggh!

If I were a bird, I’d be a Lovebird !

If I were a Fast bowler, I’d be kicked out of the team!

& If I were a Batsman, I’d be kicked out of the team!

Saw this done by Dhiren and immediately got at it...Swaram, Anu and G you might like doing this..

My sorrow is not for sale

My sorrow is not for sale,
Nor for exhibition.
Yet I end up auctioning my tears
The devil bids the highest.

GG. April 13.

Remembering Bhagat-Sukhdev-Rajguru, Ram Manohar Lohia, Kanu Sanyal and Tagore's Tota Kaahini

March 23, 2010 is the 79th death anniversary of Sukhdev Thapar, Shivaram Rajguru and Bhagat Singh and 100th birth anniversary of Ram Manohar Lohia. Today morning, Kanu Sanyal, a leading figure of the Naxalbari movement and the Communist Party of India (Marxist-Leninist), was found dead in his house. Initial reports suggest that the 78-year-old communist hanged himself. I would not have known about Sanyal, or remembered the martyr trio and R M Lohia, but for Vinod Dua's 9.30 news slot on NDTV India.

Seems unnerving that these Indian intellectuals, who remained staunch in their varied beliefs till the end, should be united in their life and death by this trivial, albeit uncanny coincidence.

On March 23, 1931
Three youths died
shouting slogans till their last breath
to keep the revolution alive.
More than six decades of sleep later,
they perhaps still scream in their graves:
Wake up.

Sadly for someone like me, a person born in a free, lethargic nation disillusioned with politics and corruption, the driving force of legends like Bhagat Singh that propelled them to defy leadership with such unflinching confidence can only generate awe, surprise and disbelief.

I feel alarmed and disgusted with the way Maoist cadres and socialist parties are behaving in recent times. My brush with die-hard communists has been limited to invisible and continuous waves of masses of thousands of people rushing towards Esplanade on foot or on trucks that make their presence felt by choking the traffic of even the city's most far-flung corners and its every single arterial road. They speak the same tune, argue the same logic and could be just as loyal to their cause as thousands of young men and women may have been during the freedom struggle more than six decades ago.

Any movement seems just when it takes birth. Slowly, the movement becomes the organ itself, the mission gets sidelined and finally buried under layers of big, hollow talk. Perhaps Rabindranath Tagore had envisioned the way the Communist movement (or any other governing mechanism as such) would end up as long back and had tried to warn the masses with his harmless-looking short story called Tota Kaahini or The Parrot's Tale.

To me, this story has wise metaphors. The foolish parrot is the uneducated, ignored mass of faceless people. The expensive gold cage, sham education, revelry and rigmarole is the all-powerful state machinery that tactfully misleads the masses from their objective. The fault-finder is a person who still has the ability to see and speak the truth - and so is a nuisance.

The biggest sorrow is that with time, people with strong, honest ideals (and not blind transfer of faith into a glorious-looking mass-movement) are becoming a rarity. The country is producing generations of self-engrossed young men and women (including me) each more below-average than the previous.

A dear teacher once confided in a casual, sad remark — "Since the past few years, all the new batches seem worse than the previous ones." Another teacher had also pointed out the same degeneration. "My old students would make my palms sweat with their string of questions. You people just eat up my words without arguing," he had sighed. Have we become a race that is too lazy and/or meek to ask and argue?

I hope that at least for the time we remember people like Bhagat Singh, Rajguru and Sukhdev, our sleeping conscience urges us to be as truthful and courageous as we can be in our daily affairs.

I end with an edited excerpt from Bhagat Singh's prison diary. Courtesy Wikipedia.

"The aim of life is ... not to realise truth, beauty and good only in contemplation, but also in the actual experience of daily life..."

Discovering Gabriel Garcia Marquez

I introduced myself to Gabriel Garcia Marquez during my visit to Crossword in December 2009. I got Love in the Time of Cholera and One Hundred Years of Solitude to begin with.

Have read Love in... and must say that overall, I liked the book. More than the story, which I thought is marred by incidents of passion used as a stop-gap arrangement, I loved reading Garcia's description of places and people.

The chapters on the Paramaribo parrot and Fermina's varied pets are entertaining. That the parrot got excited seeing the pretty maids amused me no end. Dr. Juvenal Urbino's patient lessons to teach the bird Latin and French were also impressive, given my personal indulgence with all things animal. Marquez writes in a splendid style, extremely detailed and full of the darker sides of human character.

Talking about the storyline as such, I did not like Florentino Ariza's character, especially with the consequences of his last fling. It's a book you must read once, though not quite one that you can read again and again.*

I have really liked the novella Of Love and Other Demons. It makes for a quick reading with about 150 pages of power-packed writing. The preface, in which Marquez has explained how a reporting assignment in 1949 sowed the seed of this story, is extremely intriguing. Another fast read is a collection of stories titled Innocent Erendira and Other Stories, about 160 pages. I liked reading Innocent Erendira (the theme is presented as a short paragraph in One Hundred Years of Solitude) but somehow, Gabriel Garcia Marquez seems to end on a note of emotional cruelty each time.

The winner is Memories of My Melancholy Whores, one of the Nobel winner's most recent works. In one line, the story begins with a 90-year-old requisiting the services of a virgin. This adventure introduces him to something like love.

For the benefit of my readers, I quote some lines I found extremely poetic from this novel.

"Make no mistake: peaceful madmen are ahead of the future."

"Sex is the consolation you have when you can't have love."

...Morality, too, is a question of time, she would say with a malevolent smile...

"Whenever someone asks I always answer the truth: whores left me no time to be married."

*Edited to add: I am reading much more of Marquez now, and admit that my mind goes back to Love in the Time of Cholera. Definitely something I would read again. April 12, 2010.

***

So then, which are the new good books you have discovered?

Life rules, and how...

My blog is my salve. It's been some time now that it is keeping me company like a soulmate in those unearthly hours long after midnight and much before dawn .

There's this aversion to write analytically about current, disturbing issues. Similar to wanting to see a fun, masti movie instead of one with moral highgrounds once in a while.

For example, barely a few days after Shiv Sena blasted SRK for speaking up for a one-off comment in favour of Pakistani cricketers, my aaji pointed out that the party was mum when the Pakistani hockey team was playing India. Good blog-worthy point, I thought. Are controversies raised only when big finances (read SRK and cricket) are involved. Are controversies raked up only when big businesses can be held at ransom?

I could have read up and written, but I was not inclined to. I choose to focus on many other issues — extremely trivial but very personal...

Many more poems have filled up the little diary. My phone is busier than usual. My pets demand attention. I have discovered that I love gardening. We are coming closer, bonding better. It surprises me how life can take the turns you want. It surprises me even more how easy it is to let go and how difficult to hold on — or vice versa.

Some friends from the blogosphere have abandoned their blogs. It is an unfortunate loss to readers like me who take strength from their random, magical lives. Some new writers are coming to notice.

Life rules, and how? :)

Somewhere

Somewhere alone, lonely
sleeps a weary soul.
Somewhere silent, sobbing
dreams a defeated soul.

Somewhere far away
lies are being woven,
truth being distorted.
Sleep. But how?

GG, Feb 21, Sunday

Pros and Cons of Selective Blogging

And I have been selfish. How many of you, who are into professions even remotely related to the communications or media have known this selfish phase?

It happened some months ago that I began using the security of pen and paper instead of the instant online gratification of blogging. I began doing this after many great sentences and ideas vanished with the fumes of traffic for not having something to jot them down on.

With time, I had a huge collection of items 150-200 words each. These pieces, which I consider some of my best thoughts, now smell in the yellowing pages of a small little diary. Nothing wrong, some of you may say, the old-fashioned diary/letters is far more romantic. But I thought I am being selfish when I said, 'No, this is not for the blog, preserve this for better times.'

There are big minus points of saving your words like a squirrel who stores nuts for the winter. She can hope to relax like a queen in the future, but the present is incessant legwork, no?

A diary is alright when it comes to prose. But it is much more difficult to keep poems locked in bound pages. Most of the poems I have here on my blog are impromptu inspirations, thought and penned from start to the end on the blog itself — Why Do We, for example. With such fluid dialogue possible on the blog, accumulating my thoughts on paper and imposing an incommunicado on them is like having a stomachache due to a deep dark secret you have been burdened with.

I remember having written a post on why I blog. Apart from getting the pleasure to write and improve my skill, the biggest reason was having a readership that is open to a dialogue, is receptive of my ideas. When I wrote that post, I didn't even have half the readers I have now.

Today, some readers can gauge even the slightest of discomfort in my words. There are people who say beautiful deep words of promise without knowing that they lift me up. From my blog, I have known the joy of associating with frank, like-minded people who are not afraid to disagree.

So, being selective with my writing on this space, my blog that has nurtured and humbled me for more than four years now and with people who take time out for me, makes me wonder if I am being selfish.

Tell me, have you ever indulged in selective blogging?

Hello...

For each one person who doesn't cooperate, you will find five who do. This is God's grace. Or if you are an atheist, this is your goodwill and efficiency that has earned you this support.
But I am not an atheist. My faith is unshakable. Even in my worst times, I have blamed and cursed him, but never broken my communication with him. So it be.
I might go on a break, I might flood this space with posts like never before. Keep in touch till then... :)

And another day begins

And another day begins
Sunrise so fresh
after the stench of night
that was unbearable, uncouth.

And another day begins
Birds sing as if no one died.

-Gauri Gharpure
Kolkata, Jan 16.

Uttarayan 2010

I keep reading Ahmedabad newspapers often and today being Uttarayan, I had to see the paper, with all those photos of families gathered on terraces, colourful kites, the talks of bor, sherdi and undhiyu...

I have come across an excellent article in the TOI's issue dated January 12, 2010. It's about an 86-year-old Ahmedabad-resident Homi Pestonji Ghadiyali who has flown kites every day, for most of his lifetime... The story has been written by Yogesh Chawda and the e-paper dated Jan 12 also has a very endearing photo of the octagenarian.

Read this story here.

How are you?

Even the light of the computer screen sparks a headache. The slightest sound, that of the rustling of a polythene bag, can trigger a ferocious fury. This, barely two days into the new year, seems unfair and jinxed.

Still here I am, writing for strangers and friends alike, writing for myself. For writing is the best medicine for me. Medicines, often as costly as the doctor thinks you can afford, have also been prescribed. Books ease up the tension that silence brings and radio gives the illusion of company. Strange working hours can make your system go upside down, inside out and yet, at the end of it, you love the liberty of daytime that the job offers. I am raring to go again to the incessant clicking of keyboards and the frequent references to the style book.

It's not just headaches and feeling low. There are things worth looking up to. I have been included in the Mysore Blog Park fraternity. The page rank, that had dropped to 3 some days back, is now again back at 4. Two-three more people now follow my blog. I will be well, soon. In the meanwhile, tell me how have you been...

Blogging by Mail Part 2 :)

Stephanie has just received the gift pack I put together for her.

Go, have a look at the Happy Sorceress' blog to see what I made for her ...

Blogging by Mail....

How does it feel to get a parcel all the way from US full of lovely, carefully-chosen gifts? And that too, when the only thing that connects you with the sender is a blog. .. Exquisite, I must say. New media indeed connect, and how!



I signed up for Stephanie's Blogging by Mail initiative and have received a wonderful gift pack from Amelia barely few minutes back and am really excited...

She has included some very lovely gifts: two big slabs of dark chocolate, soft, adorable pair of socks in a pretty shade of light green, a scrub, a set of lovely hand creams in some delicious flavours like Cherry blossom, Vanilla Orchid, Wild Jasmine and a scented candle..



Amelia, I can't thank you enough..

Technical hitches and a poem

Google reader is behaving erratically. My new posts are not being updated and am quite worried as I don't know how to set this right.

Bloggers with a gifted techie side, please help...

Other than that, there's a small poem I would like you to read.

A government hospital is written on my poem blog, Short and Sweet. Feedback, discussions most welcome on that site.

I wrote this the same day I posted the matar sandwich recipe.. Now you know why the quick fix. i had visited a filthy hospital ward that day and my spirit had drooped low, very low...

Quick fix

What do you do when you are feeling extremely nervous?

I for one, eat, sleep or write.

Here's a quick post, more to keep my mind away from certain things, than for the sake of updating the space here.

This is a sandwich recipe, extremely simple and delicious.
Made it for breakfast some days back.

Peas sandwich

Ingredients

Two cups of fresh / frozen peas

4-5 cloves of garlic

One inch piece of ginger

Half a green chilli (adjust according to taste)

Salt

Heat frozen peas in water for 5-6 minutes, till soft. Discard the water, wash and dry.

In a chutney jar, grind the peas, garlic, ginger, salt and chillie to form a course paste. Do not add water or mash it too fine.

In a pan, heat a small spoonful of oil and fry the peas paste for 3-4 minutes.

Spread this on bread. You may toast it too... I feel this sandwich goes better with coriander/pudina chutney but ketchup works just as well...

Another tag comes my way pretty soon. I loved doing this one. Thanks G for tagging me...

Here it goes:

1.Where is your cell phone?
Near the keyboard

2.Your hair?
Oiled and tied


3.Your mother?
great cook, very giving

4.Your father?
unworldly

5.Your favorite food?
daal bhat pickle @ home, sizzlers outside

6. Your dream last night?
can’t remember.. was something about ahmedabad

7. Your favorite drink?
Sprite, Screwdriver, chhas

8. Your dream / goal?
to write well, earn more than enough

9. What room are you in?
office

10.Your hobby?
making jewellery, reading

11.Your fear?
losing people

12.Where do you want to be in 6 years?
better pay, house, baby shud be fine

13.Where were you last night?
office

14.Something that you aren’t?
….?

15.Muffins?
gladly

16.Wish list item?
Graphic novels by Marjane Satrapi, Big Sur, Dharma Bums, Broken April

17.Where did you grow up?
Ahmedabad

18.Last thing you did?
saved some copies

19.What are you wearing?
jeans, top camouflaged in sweater and shawl

20.Your TV?
not sure which brand

21.Your pets?
three lovebirds, including a very silly baby

22.Friends?
Yes!!

23.Your life?
more than good

24.Your mood?
happy

25.Missing someone?
not at this moment

26.Vehicle?
not now, ahmedabad days, I had a Honda activa bike.. now it lies unused in Kolkata

27.Something you’re not wearing?
a cap

28.Your favorite store?
shops at Gariahat, New Market, spencers

Your favorite color?
light green of the fields, pink/red to wear

29.When was the last time you laughed?
some minutes back

30.Last time you cried?
5-6 days ago

31.Your best friend?
Reni, my sis

32.One place that you go to over and over?
City Centre Salt Lake … if I could, Ahmedabad, Himachal/Uttaranchal

33.One person who emails me regularly?
my father

34.Favorite place to eat?
Peter Cat

I tag Solilo, Dhiren, Doremi and Shweta

Poems — In your language :)

This is an excerpt of a lovely poem by Baruk:

in your language, not mine
will i abuse and curse at you
and scream and rail and rant at you
in your language, not mine.

The poem has been recognized by Amnesty International (Aotearoa New Zealand) and was read out on Courage Day.

Also read this post called Grin and the interesting discussions in the comment section.

Initially when I began reading his blog, I thought his posts were too full of anger. Then, I slowly got used to his way of writing and began loving the way he morphs his angst into lovely, strong poems.

Ever so often, I feel sad that poems only pose prodding questions in a wordy way, questions to which we have no answers and so get frustrated. Once out of the system, the best a good poem can do is to act as a catalyst for more thoughts, introspection and sometimes debates. But even within this limited scope, poems can do a mighty lot.

Read about George Orwell's take on poems that I mentioned in this long post. He says that poems can survive even in the face of totalitarianism. Excerpts from Orwell's essay are written towards the end.

Coming back to this poem...

As I read In your language not mine again, I realise how relevant it is in the vicious times we live in. The immediate connect reading it this time was with the episode in which MNS members of legislature allegedly manhandled and even slapped Samajwadi party MLA Abu Azmi when he began taking his oath in Hindi. Some people were actually cheering the vandalism as another act of bravado in defense of Marathi asmita...

My favourite poem from Baruk is Api's thlan

Eye donation follow-up

I wrote an article sometime back and in the course of my research, I talked to a large number of doctors, grief counsellors, eye banks, cornea recipients and donor families.

Here are somethings I discovered and these I am sharing with you.

1)What is eye donation?

Eye donation essentially means recovering the cornea, the transparent cover on the pupil. This part is transplanted on the recipient to improve / restore vision. Donation from one person gets two corneas, that are used separately on two persons.

2) Who can benefit?

Cornea transplant is necessary when the cornea gets damaged due to prolonged illness, neglect and poor treatment. Doctors said that poor patients from rural areas form the biggest chunk of cornea recipients because often they approach a doctor when the damage is already done. Some patients born with congenital cornea defects can also benefit from eye donations.

In some cases, a cornea transplant is also used as therapeutic grafting to aid in healing of damaged tissue.

Contrary to my notion, eye donations thus do not cure all kinds of blindness, but only corneal blindness.

3) Initiatives:

Under the Hospital Cornea Retrieval Programme (HCRP), grief counsellors are appointed at hospitals where about 6-7 deaths occur daily. These counsellors approach the bereaved family and suggest eye donation. Donations have drastically gone up at places where HCRP has been implemented.

As of now, grief counsellors, appointed by NGOs, are paid paltry amounts. Under the 11th five-year plan, government has come up with grants for grief counsellors.

Whose eyes cannot be used for transplant:

Eyes of a person who has died of slow virus diseases like AIDS; Mad cow disease, Rabies, Hepatitis, Encephalitis, Septicemia, Snake bite, Tetanus, Luekaemia, or had certain eye infections, iritis (inflammation of anterior segment of eye), low corneal endothelial counts cannot be used for corneal transplant.

Statistics:

About 1.1 million people suffer from corneal blindness in India and families of only about 15000 people consented for eye donation in 2008.



Source: Eye Bank Association of India

Points to remember:

Eye must be removed within six hours of death

Gently suggest eye donation to a calm person of the bereaved family, if possible after 30 minutes of 'grief window'. By this time, the family has actually accepted the death

Contact the nearest eye collection centre immediately

The removal takes 10-15 minutes and is free

It can be done at home or any other place where the body is kept

It does not disfigure the face

Eye donation by a single person helps restore sight of two corneal blind people

Religious leaders throughout the world have voiced their support

Source: Doctors, National Program for Control of Blindness website

Related posts:

Eye donation follow-up 1

Hope amidst grief

The End of an Era

Pumpkin Corn soup

This soup was made by my sister's father-in-law. I tasted some and loved it. He shared the recipe in less than two minutes. Yesterday, when I saw fresh bright yellow pumpkin in the market, I thought of giving this a try.



Ingredients

About 200 gm ripe yellow pumpkin

A cupful of frozen / fresh corn

6-7 cloves of garlic, 1 " piece of ginger

1-2 green chillies

Finely-minced coriander

Salt to taste

Boil the pumpkin, let it cool. If using fresh corn, boil these along with pumpkin. Do not throw away pumpkin stock. Use it as required later to make the soup. Grind boiled pumpkin to a pulp in a chutney jar. Crush ginger garlic in a mortar. Separately crush the green chillies. Soak frozen corn for a while and remove the water. Wash well.



Heat a spoonful of oil. Add ginger-garlic paste. Saute till the colour changes and add pumpkin paste. Add pumpkin stock to bring the soup to a thick consistency. Add corn, green chilly paste and salt. Just before switching off the gas, add coriander.

I suggest you do not give any of these ingredients a miss, or the taste wouldn't be as relishing. If I am not mistaken, he also added crushed groundnuts. I didn't try this though.

Pet update

This little chap should begin to fly pretty soon...



This is the first baby from my pair and I spend afternoons playing with it..

Karela-Matar Sabzi

Karela (bittergourd) has been a favourite in our family. While my sister can eat it in all forms, I like it crispy fried, or when the bitterness is reduced.
Sister had learnt a stuffed karela recipe from a Sindhi friend. In that dish, she carefully carved out the seeds and stuffed the karelas (soaked in salt for 10-15 minutes and pressed of excess water) with onions, tomato, garlic, etc. Then I guess she used to deep fry the vegetable and flow it in a spicy gravy. While V and others absolutely loved this dish, I could not have it for the raw bitter taste still lingered.

The best karela sabzi I have eaten so far was at a relative's house. I tried reproducing it today and it turned out just like that day. I was so so excited that one recipe of a great, jolly old foodie now survives with me. Here I am sharing with you the recipe.

Ingredients

3 karelas, sliced in rings and pressed dry after applying salt

A small cup of imli / tamarind pulp soaked in very little water

A cupful of matar / green peas

2-3 tablespoons of sugar

Salt and red chilly powder to taste.

Oil, mustard seeds, hing (asafoetida), haldi (turmeric powder)



Heat a tablespoon of oil in a heavy-bottomed steel pan. (I started with aluminum kadhai, but later shifted realizing the huge amount of imli that goes in this dish)

Add a teaspoon of mustard seeds, pinch of hing and haldi in that order. Next add karela. Saute till half-cooked and slightly brown, do not cover with a lid. Now add peas. The photo below is just after I added peas.



Saute till karela is crispy and peas are cooked. This should take 5-7 minutes.

Now, extract thick tamarind pulp. It should come to 2-3 tablespoons. As soon you add this, the veggies will get sticky and because of the sour addition, won't cook. So make sure you add imli after the karela and peas are tender enough. Immediately add a generous amount of sugar to balance the sour taste. I added about 1 1/2 tablespoons. Add salt and chilly to taste.

Delicious sweet-sour karela-matar sabzi is ready...

Anjan Dutt calls Bela Bose on 2441139

I heard 2441139 by chance on the radio. While I feel shy to speak in Bangla, I understand a fair bit and this song was beyond marvellous. Listen to this song first, even if you don't understand Bangla. Listen first. I have given the English translation below...



Picture this. A yellow phone booth with loud, bold black letters reading STD, PCO, ISD. Or if you want, picture a coin-phone, the large rectangular black box that used to stand silently by paan shops and was witness to many a life-changing conversations of love and denial long before the cellphone bug hit. Have we got the imagery right? Now picture a youth dialling a number and asking for Bela Bose. Here's what he says...

I have got a job Bela, are you listening?
No one can stop us now.
You can send back that proposal
and tell mother you are not marrying.

I have indeed got a job.
Just a few more months (of wait)
They will pay 1100 now,
Confirm the job after three months...
Bela, why are you silent, why don't you say something?


Hello... 'Is that 2441139?'
Bela Bose are you listening?
I have got you after a dozen wrong numbers
I will not lose you now at any cost...

Hello... 2441139?'
Please call Bela Bose, just once.
Meter's running on this public telephone
this an important, very important matter...

This time our dreams will really come true
After all this long wait
We have spent many a days in dusty dingy cabins by the road
Waiting with heavy breaths...

Just a few more days Bela, then freedom.
That blue-walled house in Kasba (will be ours)
In this white-black, trouble-ridden, bitter-sweet city
(We will start) our colourful life...

I have got a job indeed
Those times of sobs, of brawls are gone now
Hello... Can you hear me or not?

Bela, why are you crying silently?
I have indeed got a job
Those times of sobs and brawls are gone
Hello... Can you hear me?

Hello? **** Hello?
2441139, 2441139

I feel Bela has accepted a proposal and is all set to marry...The call came too late. The song, for me, is an ode to young love in a middle-class Indian background that strives and strives to set things right.

I could write a lot more about this song, and two other favourites by Anjan Dutt.. But may be, on some other post.

PS My computer speakers don't work. Let me know if you find any other better video of this album..

Link of Bangla lyrics here

The Contest :)

Thanks for voting.. I value every single of the 10 votes I got for the time and appreciation you kept aside for me, for Short and Sweet.


Ginger and Cardamom has won the Original Poetry contest on Indiblogger. It's a great blog, and I have a lot of reading up to do.

So then, take care and keep in touch...

Important dates

From September onwards, till the end of the year, my days often pass in a restless gloom punctuated with reasons for celebration.
In India, come September and a series of festivals start. So, in general you are engrossed in a festive atmosphere.

For me, its my birthday that kickstarts the month. This year, towards the end, I finished a year of my first full-time job and was feeling pretty happy with myself, and grateful.

October is a breeze, but just towards the end of the month, I start missing my grandfather. On 26th, he would have been 87.

Bhau was a jolly fellow with love for good food and piping-hot dalwadas. He adored me with a very open bias. Anything was allowed for me, and his swiftest solution to aaji's complaints that I don't study as much I should was to 'take a year off'. Better still, he would say let her fail once. I was humiliated in front of my whole class when I failed in all possible subjects and from then on, I was stunned into being serious. So, it's good to fail, he would say.

And then, he had told me once, "I am going to live till 100. Even after that, I will become a ghost and meet you." That 100 bit always pinches me the most.

November is extremely uneasy. In the first week falls a date I remember in spite wanting to wipe it off from my mind. Towards the end of the month is a date that struck our family real hard.

December offers hope. Promises a new year that would be better, gentler. And in that hope, I have spent a wonderful decade in which God more than made up for everything.

Please vote for me

Please vote for my blog Short and Sweet which has been accepted in the Original Poetry Contest category on Indiblogger. It will take you a few minutes to vote, or create an account if you are yet not on Indiblogger...

Also, may I go a step ahead and say that I would be grateful if you ask your friends on the blogroll to check out Short and Sweet and vote for me...

Here's the voting link..

Wish me luck!

--Gauri

Broken April, Books...

Of kanoon and love: Have I told you Broken April by Ismail Kadare is one of the most beautiful, poetic books I have ever read? I first read Kadare's Palace of Dreams, for the blurb seemed to give away a vague similarity to Orwell's 1984. 'Palace of Dreams' was good enough to pursue Kadare. Luckily, I found him in the British Council. I read 'The Pyramid' and 'Spring Flower Spring Frost' but while these three novels make fast, tense reading, they are not the kinds to haunt you. Broken April unsettles you with alien codes of conduct (Kanoon) in the backdrop of silent love in the misty mountains of Albania.

Just when Gjorg Berisha is walking up the mountains, racing against time to pay the blood tax, and as he makes his way back home, the black ribbon on his arm constantly reminding him — and others — of the death that he may soon deliver or take upon himself, the newly-married couple is wandering off in a pretty horse-drawn carriage somewhere nearby. Their eyes meet briefly and their paths take different destinies. In this brief moment the story takes a desolate turn. The description is so vivid, I could actually see the towers of refuge and the carriage chugging along the lonely road. Read this book to know the fascinating variety of life, culture and codes exist in the world we live in.

PS: I have been trying hard to buy a copy of the book, but am told its not available in India. Other two books I am hunting for since long (on recommendation by some dear blogger friends) are The Dharma Bums and Big Sur by Jack Keroauc. Anyone, any information on what store in India has a stock of these books, please let me know. I would be very grateful.

***
Just bought: The cover and blurb of Rooftops of Tehran, Mahbod Seraji's first novel, enticed me enough to buy it. I am down only some 40 pages, but don't like the second person present narrative style. I know I have read it before and liked it, but in this novel, it does not seem to fit. I am off all books for now for a novel that disinterests me halfway leaves me feeling too dejected, shall I say cheated? Saying this, I reserve all my rights to absolutely adore Rooftops of Tehran and change my opinion by the time I reach the last page. :)

***

Getting to know new writers: I consider Baruk's blog my window to a unique, different world I would not know of otherwise. The other day, I read up on Maori writer Witi Ihimaera and today I read about Kynpham sing nongkynrih who writes in Khasi and English. Baruk has posted a beautiful poem by Nonkynrih here. Read more about him in the article 'I write in a language that the elite frowns upon' by Trisha Gupta.

Handmade bookmarks

This September was special for me. And to express my gratitude, I was on a bookmark-making spree for almost two weeks. Here's what I made:


Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

These are a mix of Peyote, Ladder and Brick stitches. The last round one is a favourite. Still not decided if I should make it a bookmark or use it like a button...

With the high power that I have, after every fabulous brush with the minute needle and seed beads, my right eye begins to ache and I pray to God to let me keep on at this thing at least till I am 50 and more.. :)

Let me know how you liked these.

Related posts:

Learning peyote stitch

My necklaces

Eye donation

I noticed that many people have been directed to my blog while searching for links on eye donation. I wrote this article (Hope amidst grief) way back in September 2006 and posted it on the blog after failing to get it through newspapers. That many people are curious to know about eye donation, and that my post might be useful in some way even today, is heartening.

My brush with the process, I still consider too personal to put it on the blog.

Now, when I think of those moments when the decision was made, I wonder if I myself would be comfortable with donating my eyes. I am not sure. To be honest, we tend to have too possessive a connect with our bodies, at least I do, and the idea of my eyes being plucked out unnerves me.

I hope with time, this silly preoccupation will wane of and I will be ready in the real sense for there's this very scientific, practical and noble angle to organ donations. It is a beautiful, extremely tempting proposition to use a part of your body — that will anyway turn to ashes, or be eaten up by bugs underground — to show someone a world he has yet only heard of.

Why just eyes, doctors say even other organs can be used if the decision is taken well in advance, say in the cases of persons on life support. The eldest member of Gharpure clan donated his entire body to a medical college. He had conveyed the decision and it was honoured.

So, for all those wanderers who come to this blog looking for more reading on eye donation, here's my advise. Follow your heart, for most often, it will get you to do the right thing.

For those who have not read the two said posts, take sometime to read, and pass on the message...

Related posts: Hope amidst grief: Eye donation

The end of an era

Also read this interesting conversation on eye donation on Manju's blog