Festivals and cooking from a ‘non-veteran’…

I began several posts but never got to the point of posting them on my blog. Didn’t think they were worthy. Not that I didn’t have my occasional moments of “ah-has” and reflections…  I did. The festivals that came by sans fun on the downside, and the newly discovered passion for authentic Maharashtrian cooking, on the upside.

Lets talk about the downside first. As for the festivals, you didn’t have to do much in India. Just go with the flow and fun was guaranteed. In a foreign country, if you do not have an enthusiastic community that you are involved with or if you do not have kids (who you’d want to expose to Indian culture irrespective of how religious you were in the past!), you have nearly no motivation to celebrate! That was the bitter truth I was struck with. Hope the next time I have at least one of the two factors to motivate me!

On the upside, it was a whole new world of cooking. I never grew up thinking I would or could “cook”. I’d conveniently think I am not the girly-girl type and got away with it in my mind.  Then, just a few days back during one of my cleaning sprees, I found the tiny “Annapoorna” brass idol my mother gave me during my wedding. My allowance from hubby to keep God idols is limited to a few. The rest are put away only to come out on Diwali or some occasion that calls for it. I struggled for few moments to decide if it should go back in the ‘God box’ or be out. Made a decision and put Her on my gas stove top. This was the same time period when I saw myself ponder a lot on my childhood and how I grew up, the cooking and the customs followed, the festivals and the traditions observed…everything. The more I thought, the more I felt distanced from it, and that was painful. Unfortunately, those days are limited to the memories safe in my heart and to the old pictures; my parents are back home in India and my dear grandma passed on a few years back. Besides, the city where I grew up, the people, and the new phase the India in general is in makes everything so different. Nothing is the same but for the postal address… Or it could be that I was stuck and everything around has moved on. Whatever it was, the best way for me to relive it all was -yes you are right on- “cooking”! Pretty counter intuitive, I know.

I started with one authentic Marathi ‘eggplant potato dish‘ that I found online on a cooking blog. In Marathi weddings, this type of curry would be a commonplace as I saw growing up. This blog was awesome I thought, as this blogger had all these amazing regional recipes from Maharashtra. I felt at home and delighted. And with this blog I discovered several related blogs which was a treasure to me, to say the least! “Grandma was not around, but her kinda recipes came to me from the universe” kinda feeling (I left the theater, but “drama” hasn’t left me; please don’t hate me for the over-dramatization!).  On a serious note, I felt closer to who I was. I felt grounded (used as an adjective here).

Home made Methi Paratha

Then came the Methi Parathas, the pumpkin parathas, the pumpkin sabji (typically made for puja’s), the sabudana khichadi, and so on. I made my own variations to the recipes from inputs from my mother. These blogs opened up several new avenues with one click just like Minesweeper (oh-I would love to play that game). If you liked it too, you’d know exactly what I am talking about! Strangely, I never came across these blogs before in my Google searches. To me all this was something like suddenly discovering you were a great painter when you knew you couldn’t paint for nuts!

Pumpkin sabji (yeah- could've done a better job at the picture had I known I was to post!)

Friends and relatives liked my “work” and hubby has still to reach the point of  ”cant take it anymore”. Now, when I am around in the kitchen, as I secretly catch a glimpse of the little Annapoorna idol with her ladle, She seems to transform but for a moment into the apron-clad fairy godmother, swings her ladle and winks at me with a mischievous smile before she transforms back into the tiny idol amidst shimmery gold dust!

Death of a hero!

On my way home from work, I was listening to a news story on NPR about the death of this 89-year-old woman in a small coastal town of England.  Eileen Nearne was described as a recluse with no family or friends. After her death, authorities found as a part of her belongings, medals and documents that revealed she was in fact a World War II spy whose code name was Agent Rose!

To read: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=130025778

To listen: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=130052499

Nearne was one of only a few dozen women spies in an organization set up by Winston Churchill, called the Special Operations Executive or SOE. Its mission was to support the French Resistance. She worked secretly in the Nazi occupied France where her job was to send out radio messages. Those times, if a British spy was found, the only treatment s/he would get : death! Even after being caught and subject to torture, Nearne refused to crack, and relentlessly tried convinced her Nazi interrogators she was only a local member of the French Resistance. She was dispatched  to a concentration camp for women from where she successfully managed to escape - a rare thing. She was captured more than once and managed to escape every time!

Eileen Nearne "Agent Rose"

Apparently, as much as she was stoic in facing the unimaginable atrocities, she broke down once she was back in England and was physically and mentally ill for some years, before she recovered. She led a quiet life and had a cat for company. She was known to support few charities.

Sadly, her body was not discovered for several days after her death.

The story lingered in my mind long after the broadcast that afternoon. Truth could be stranger than fiction, Mark Twain had said, and I couldn’t agree more in case of this unsung hero!

As I wondered, images from World War II crowded my mind – bombs, prisoners, atrocities, concentration camps and living every moment in fear and uncertainty. And what a thing to garner courage to live through it day in day out, have that strong will to survive and force yourself never to give up! And what would it be to live alone once its all over? Not to be able to share, as it would be too personal to do so.. What would it be like reliving in memories the same old life, too horrifying to be forgotten in a lifetime, even after it was a “free world” on the outside? That such a brave and serving woman had to live and suffer all alone was very heart wrenching to me. A true war hero indeed!

But the more I thought about her and those times (even though accompanied by feelings of sadness and intrigue, of course), the more it put things into perspective for us and our lives in general today. Life is so much brighter and beautiful for us guys!

Hope she found solace in death, that she didn’t, in life. May her soul rest in peace!

Me, Julie ‘n’ Julia

Me and Prabhaker went to the good old Family Video store to grab a few movies for the weekend. Every time I looked at the promotion display of this movie, I would tell myself I want to watch it..sometime. It didn’t happen for a few trips until that day. Along with two other ones (some hedging here), we finally we picked up Julie & Julia.

Julie & Julia: The Movie

The movie is about this girl Julie Powell who is a writer of a half-finished novel, suffers from ADD  (like most of us ‘multitaskers’), her job is not the greatest, three of her friends apparently are way successful than her and she is still trying to figure out something that really makes sense! After a long day, pushing herself through the train to come to this little attic in noisy Queens for home that was atop a local pizza place, made it worse. The one thing that she loved that would take her mind off the monotony: cooking! Talking on blogs, one night her husband suggests she start a blog on cooking. She has her mothers copy of  Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child. And she sets herself up against a challenge – to try all 524 recipes in the book in 365 days! With some successes and many failures with the recipes she pours out her frustration and her moments of joy on the digital pages and sends out there in the colossal cyberspace, and her blog starts shaping up. She doesn’t know if anyone on ‘the other side’ will stumble upon her blog. It’s almost like sending messages in outer space and expecting a response. Interwoven with Julie’s life is shown Julia Child’s life decades back in France: the food, the lifestyle and her transformation as a cook!

Without giving out much, and explaining the whole story and critiquing for the nth time, I would save it for you to watch, if haven’t already. What I would say is, its a simple story that is beautifully told. It is not a story of  someone with an exceptional work of rare genius, but one of common people like us who have a job to do, have our own issues within or outside, and our unique ups and downs. Life is not a novel or a movie where ’one big finite and defined obstacle”, once overcome, everything is happy ever after. For (most of) us, this ‘big obstacle’ is broken down in several big and small pieces sprinkled randomly across our lifetimes, and life goes on.. and on. It is a daily challenge on an individual level to find our peace and happiness. The movie takes us on a ride and the little  ups and downs of Julie’s life while simultaneously traveling in time to enjoy Julia’s French living.

The movie reminded me of my Chicago days when I lived on-campus as a student sharing the apartment with three other roomies - Smrithi, Athiya and Prajna. Smrithi loved cooking, and whenever upset or bored, she would cook!  She would find it therapeutic. We’d tell her about your hunger pangs in the middle of the night, say, after watching a late night movie , and she will whip up some quick recipe. And more often than not, it would be delicious! Another food lover was Prajna – she loved to cook, to feed and to eat! She has fed almost all of us including the boys who lived upstairs, who were ‘permenant visitors’ for dinner when it came to meals. We would always have about 8-10 of us, if not more, Prajna was the perfect hostess for our ’1018 community dinners’. I felt as if tThese two ladies were the Annapoornas of the den! I must admit, living with them was a “training” of sorts to get back into the practice of cooking. 

Back to the movie, Julia Child is played by Meryl Streep. Needless to say, she is nothing but great and adorable. The movie leaves you with a happy feeling. It inspires you to do something that appeals to you, to get your personal joy. And, the bonus: you might actually see yourself trying out recipes with a transformed perspective to cooking as well as eating! Thats the magic of this film!

Bon Appétit!

The Queen: The Movie

The Queen: The Movie

One day while surfing channels, I stumbled upon The Queen. As I paused, I watched a great drama unfold in front of my eyes. The story revolves around the Queen Elizabeth II caught up in a unique crisis situation after Lady Diana‘s death, and how she plays her part. Two things got me - the presentation of the plot, and certainly the exceptional performance by Helen Mirren, who played the Queen Elizabeth II.

The plot is certainly simple, but brings forth the complexity of the situation and perspectives. The widespread popularity and adoration that Diana enjoyed is not unknown. Her death, more than her life, made waves across the world and in the media world. It made the world cry for the loving image of a human being they saw and read about all the time. I remember how deeply saddened I myself was - the strong yet vulnerable, down-to-earth and the extraordinarily good-looking ’queen of peoples hearts’ that was Princess Diana.  Prince Charles and Diana’s relationship had fed the tabloids and got unwanted publicity to the Royal Family, much to their chagrin, of course. In the movie, the news of Diana’s death brings to light unprecedented circumstances for the House of Windsor  that ruled almost the whole world at one point, and for the newly elected Prime Minister Tony Blair (well-played by Michael Sheen).  With it also unfolds a strong character of a good administrator, who is The Queen. I am reminded of the line from Spider-Man ”with great power comes great responsibility“. With the title of the head of the Royalty and the Commonwealth realm, comes a great responsibility towards the people in general. The movie skillfully depicts the dilemma of  Queen Elizabeth within the palace walls where dwells the real family and their concerns, and the world outside with their perceptions and expectations. And it takes us through each of the challenges that pose themselves, and how she goes about making her decisions. Her commitment to her duties and her responsibility towards the people drives her decisions, subordinating everything else including, the royal customs and protocols prevailing for several centuries.

Diana’s divorce in 1996 had dissociated her from the Royal Household, which means that, technically, the rights for her funeral would be the Spencers prerogative, and that it would be a private funeral. However, that was not something the world in general discerned, giving birth to a series of dilemmas. In wake of the prevailing circumstances, the Queen gave her consent for a public funeral ceremony which that included royal pageantry, befitting Diana’s glory and grandeur. The film brought to light the behind-the-scenes for incidents like “half-mast flag” on the flagpole of the Buckingham Palace : as a tradition the Royal flag is flown only when the Queen is in residence. The Queen was then at the family’s summer home - the Balmoral Castle in Scotland – privately mourning and protecting Diana’s grieving sons. Besides, there has been no tradition of a “half mast” flag as it is the Sovereign‘s flag and there is never a dead Sovereign (the new monarch immediately succeeds his or her predecessor). However, this evoked angry public reaction like “Where is our Queen? Where is her Flag?“. It is then that the Union flag was flown half  mast that appeased the crowds. Similar situations like “Changing of the Guard‘ was altered – the Guard was asked to march from a different gate – as there were over a million flowers left by mourners outside the Buckingham Palace . The final ‘masterstroke’ as it is called by one and all, is the Queens public mourning and address. I loved this scene where Tony Blair‘s wife condemns the Queen’s while watching her televised address to the nation, and Blair,  admiring the Queen for how she has dealt with the whole episode, tells his wife that what the Queen was is doing is extra-ordinary. This address had conciliated one and all after the prolonged misunderstood silence from the royalty. Some people do not have the luxury to keep their grief private even if they want to, like most of us rightfully do, I thought to myself. What a sad irony!

Interwoven well within the story are incidents that show the real person behind the title that Elizabeth is: her concern for her grandsons to protect them from the mad media, her love for the red deer stag in their estate and the grief she undergoes to see it killed. And how skillfully she hides her vulnerability and pain from showing itself speaks for the real person behind the perceived tough exterior of the supreme royalty! It’s touching.

Considering most of the world is pro-Diana, it certainly must have been a delicate and difficult subject for a film to convey the message to such an audience. The film deftly manages to do so. It does not paint Diana in a negative picture really; all it does is exposes the audiences to the pressure that the Queen undergoes on several levels from her position and her perspective. And what comes to fore is “the other side” not known or shown hitherto. This picture appears to be hugely different from the one that is commonly and conveniently perceived by us based on what we read and see via profit-making corporations known to us ”media”.

The lions share of the success of the film is the actor who played Queen Elizabeth, Helen Mirren. I find no words that would do justice to her performance and still not sound a  cliché. Meryl Streep herself is known to call her an ‘acting God’ and that is certainly for a reason. What a powerful and unprecedented performance, I dare say! I have never seen anything that perfect and impeccable ever before! What delicate subtleties in her acting and what poise! Sheer brilliance! The movie undoubtedly belongs to Mirren… I salute The Queen, the real and certainly the reel!

Avatar : The movie

Watched Avatar. What drew me to the theaters was not only the ubiquitous trailers or the widespread promotions. The motivation was, it was a ‘James Cameron movie’.

Avatar: The mystical forest of Pandora

The obvious hype about the special effects and CGI certainly is well deserving. The colors, the creatures and the creation of the planet of Pandora is exquisite! The glowing fluorescent pinks and greens and purples that form the flora and fauna of this planet is a trip to paradise! It is pure beatitude! Needless to say, one falls in love with it, instantly.

But to me, it is the movie’s strong underlying theme that jumps out: one of the relationship of the creatures to the Creation, of the inhabitants to Nature. 

The movie begins with humans who come from the earth to take over Pandora. Their armed forces attack this planet,  showering bombs and opening fire on the land that you just fell in love with. To the natives, the ‘Navi’ people, everything on their planet is ” inter-connected”, like a complex circuit, and there is an energy flow in all things present. Nature is their Divine Mother and they actively communicate with Her. This is a great feat of the film where Nature is personified as a Matriarch, as against unthinking, unintelligent and non-interactive matter existing by chance! The Navi’s have a ancient colossal tree which is their home, and is sacred to them. It is so beautiful and enormous that it is awe-inspiring. This lush green tree is bombed and brought down in flames! That moment becomes a tipping point of sorts for the audience. Seeing its destruction, and annihilation of this haven makes your heart bleed! How short-sighted, how foolish and dim-witted these attackers are, you are compelled to think!

Avatar: The massive tree brought down!

This is also the point where it crosses the line of an unreal story to blatant reality. The reality that you can identify with: the reality of us and our planet. And then it flashes – what the  army is doing to Pandora is exactly what we, as a race, are doing to our Mother, our home – the ever giving Earth! She is mute, maimed and mutilated, and we can’t even see Her tears! What mindless destruction? Wars  born out of  self-centered objectives, and worse justifying it all! Taking for granted all we were conferred with! It is as if a veil is lifted, and one clearly realizes the chaos, the confusion and the pandemonium all around us caused by our actions, and we just wouldn’t stop!

 From a general, I scale back to a micro level and see myself in a different light: me – as an individual-with Nature. I feel humbled. I feel gratified. Questions like “what can I do”, “what/how can I stop” stir me up. “Climate crisis“, “Global warming“, “greenhouse effect“, “carbon footprint” – mere popular terms until sometime back- actually start making sense like never before! I now have a strong conviction and a new-found sense of belonging towards the environment. I make a solemn resolve to myself, to choose to do what is right. Ever since, I see the sentiment guiding my actions and approach.

 To me, Avatar has a strong message to convey. And what a spectacular way of delivering it!

Objects and energy flow…

Looking at our patio with a few two-wheelers parked in a haphazard manner, Bobby once made a very interesting comment. (We had more motor bikes than the riders in the house back in India. Not that we bought them; they just happened to end up in out house!). He quipped ” Hey, these vehicles must be parked in a certain angle. Everything has an alignment with its surroundings”! I had no concept of what he was saying. Yes, I would have just brushed it off as an ‘artiste’s angle of looking at things that is unimportant, having nothing to do with reality’! But for a change, I took heed and moved the parked vehicles, now parallel to our compound wall and the house wall. Hmm..  Something was different. It seemed more “proper” and “in-line”.

Ever since, I have experimented with objects. I discovered that the way things are placed in relation to their surrounding and in a certain direction, make a lot of difference. Rather, there is always at least one best combination. It possibly has to do something with energy flow within that space.  As I got amused with how placing things and objects differently can make so much of an intangible difference, it led me to marvel at the mysteries that possibly lie behind the tangible. It was much like a teaser to me. Wonder how much more is hidden that we hardly know of our Universe and its subtle Laws. They are perhaps waiting to be discovered, by the right person at the right time!

The Fall, that was…

Leaves strewn on the lawn in the backyard, laying quiet.

Some leaves on the deck after a drizzle..

Some trees in our subdivision. Can you hear the leaves dragging with a scrunching sound?

The leaves had started to fall. It was not yet evening, but darkness had started to descend. Yes, it might not be the most pleasant picture for most. But to me, there was a strange familiarity and tranquility in this mood. What did this ambiance mean?A few things…

It ignited some pleasant memories I guess, as it felt comforting! Was it the picture of “fall leaves on a cold evening” that I had once seen when visiting a family friends place when I was 13? The picture on the wall had intrigued me so much that I kept staring at the beauty of it, and a strange familiarity, even though when we do not have Fall colors in India!

Or was this mood a messenger of memories of warm evenings in cold days we spent with friends (my initial days in the US) – where weather would be the last thing that would dampen our spirits! 1018 - the haven of buzz and activity with never a dull moment!

All the houses and roads were quiet but for the leaves preparing to leave, quietly.  I wondered where they would go after spending time with me all along in summer. The bright yellow and orange and red leaves, decked up at their best, before leaving forever. It was so beautiful yet so poignant! “Poignant”, thats the closest I can get to expressing in words. I wanted to hold on to all this, but it would soon slip the more I try to grip with both hands! So I tried to capture it all with my phone…This was last week.

This morning as I sit in my living room, I can see just the woods with hardly any colors. They are bare, all set to bear the snows with stoic courage.

I miss the leaves and the life they exuded!

....and when one evening the sun was ripe; our home and the new-born moon (the white little spot on the top right).

A handshake with heights…

The other day, as we were about to leave from the gym after a workout, Prabhaker pointed to the wall-climbing section. We went over and observed the walls and admired a girl climbing up and down the wall. Clearly, and as Prabhaker informed me, it is not about the legs, but the strength of your arms that it takes for this sport. He casually asked me why dont I try it out. I have always found it a good practice to  avoid saying “no” instinctively. So here I was, all set with the suspension cord (or whatever it is known as – but a real life saver to me!!) belted around me after a brief 7 min crash course and “dos” and “don’ts” of wall-climbing from one of the instructors.

I, like many I know (comfortingly so), suffer from acrophobia! But I had chosen to try it out (why in the world!?!). I climbed half of the wall, halted and laid my eyes below. That was it! I had a strong spasmodic sensation. I knew this feeling; in water parks rides with those crazy heights or in those nightmares as if falling off some tall tower in some endless pit! Phew! Prabhaker was constantly observing me and was trying to push me to go further up. But I gave up. Now that wasnt the end of it! This decision entailed the “part II” – I had to come down! For that, I had to let go of my grip on the wall, push myself away with my feet  suspending myself in the middle of … nothing! The cord (controlled by “hydraulic system”) would bring me down without jerks, the instructor had said . But I could NOT get to doing that. There was a constant battle in my mind. I was trying to tell myself that this is a reliable cord based on “scientific” principle, that I wont fall and die, that people have been doing this ever since the gym had ‘wall-climbing’, that people have been ‘wall-climbing’ even before this chain of gyms started, that even if I fall the floor had a thick layer or rubber shaves that would cause me no harm… Oh my endlessly “creative” mind!

As I was processing all this, it was a long period of my “mind -time” but a few seconds otherwise. I looked down at Prabhaker, heard his words echo ”just let go, push yourself away and do not look down”. I ordered myself to obey, and I let go! One baby step towards facing my fear that was sitting there for three decades! Yes, the cord did hold me and I plunged vertically down, with two little pauses, and I touched the earth! Prabhaker smiled at me  with a sense of appreciation and applause.  ”You did very good for the first time ” he said. Made me feel good, especially as I felt he meant it. I was so glad deep down to see how Prabhaker encouraged me. It seemed like he cared. That he understood I had this fear and that I must face it in order to get over it.  He didnt rule it out saying something silly as ” why are you scared like a little kid” or “come on, be a sport” or something.  This kind of genuine concern is rare, like a very close friend or a sibling or a parent would display. It helped me. He pushed me to go again. And I conceded, albeit with instinctive reluctance somewhere deep down. This time it was a little more. Then again I went telling myself, I am going to climb naturally, like a …er… monkey (whatever works, you see)!. I didnt look down this time around and went further up. Every climb brought me face to face with my fear as I reached a height. And each ride down, I dared, and let go (as if I had a choice!!).

Jokes apart, the danger wasnt outside, it was rather inside. Our fears, phobias, limitations, issues – be it anything- are nowhere in circumstances or people, as we might often attribute them to; they are all in our minds. The wise thing to do is to know it. To face it… head on!

Next time (sometime!), I know, I am going to myself volunteer to go wall-climbing and offer to extend a friendly handshake to my phobia. Acrophobia.. here I come!

Who am I?

With the rising spirit, I become the spirited

With the  ebbing sigh, I am the distressed

With each scorn, I bleed deep

While those loving eyes are my healers sublime!

The apathy around, finds me lost

In Thy presence,  finally, I become Thine!

Who is This, that seeth it all,

The constant One amidst the rise and fall ?

The ever-changing images, is all I see

But who am I, Lord, will you tell me?