These past few days i have been trying to keep myself busy watching cooking videos on the net. i like cooking shows – Kylie Wong, Emeril – i used to like Sanjeev Kapoor too but, these days, somehow his shows bore me with all that oil/fat free stuffs.
i would love to build a website with all the recipes i love. Bengali, Manipuri, Thai, Chinese – i am getting excited thinking about it. But knowing me, i would not be able to sustain the enthu for long. But has that ever stopped me from dreaming? Nay!
i would love to start a small restaurant of my own – i have even decided a name for it but would not disclose it for fear that someone might steal that name (look at her, she is paranoid!! Who would even want to steal your idea?). i would paints flowers on the walls. Soft music in the background. Cozy seating arrangements. Hand painted candles.
Another few years of designing, coding, squashing bugs, nagging kids to death – and i want to break free. No more imparting trainings and trying to stuff knowledge into unreceptive minds!
Dreams. And more dreams. And some more dreams.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
look ma, no fingers!
This issue has been a bone of contention between us for a long time. The subject is, of all things, iromba, or rather how i prepare it. Iromba, for the uninitiated, is one of the dishes close to a Manipuri heart. Prepared with ngari (fermented fish) and boiled veggies of your choice, it is healthy (no oil, baby!) and tasty (an acquired taste, in my case).
For reasons i don’t recall, i shunned this dish when i grew up. So i grew up as this strange being who refused to eat iromba. My family, used to my whims and fancies, let it go and did not try to convert me into an iromba-loving true blood Manipuri!
It was only after i left Imphal that i took to this dish. Though i still don’t count it as one of my favorites, i like this dish well enough to prepare it. This is where the story starts. Any Manipuri worth his ngari will tell you that iromba is a dish whose preparation requires the active participation of your fingers. But i beg to differ. Whenever i prepare iromba, i have steadfastly refused to use my fingers. i use a spoon, and sometimes a steel tumbler or pestle, to mash and mix the ingredients. He says it is not the right way to prepare it. His argument is that only by using my fingers i can really amalgamate all the ingredients and bring out the real taste. Eh? To me, it tastes just the same. Maybe better.
He is not the only one who considers this act of mine blasphemous. i have been told by almost everyone i know that this is not done. In keeping with my reputation as someone who would never toe the line, i persist in saving my fingers for better things. Like caressing!
For reasons i don’t recall, i shunned this dish when i grew up. So i grew up as this strange being who refused to eat iromba. My family, used to my whims and fancies, let it go and did not try to convert me into an iromba-loving true blood Manipuri!
It was only after i left Imphal that i took to this dish. Though i still don’t count it as one of my favorites, i like this dish well enough to prepare it. This is where the story starts. Any Manipuri worth his ngari will tell you that iromba is a dish whose preparation requires the active participation of your fingers. But i beg to differ. Whenever i prepare iromba, i have steadfastly refused to use my fingers. i use a spoon, and sometimes a steel tumbler or pestle, to mash and mix the ingredients. He says it is not the right way to prepare it. His argument is that only by using my fingers i can really amalgamate all the ingredients and bring out the real taste. Eh? To me, it tastes just the same. Maybe better.
He is not the only one who considers this act of mine blasphemous. i have been told by almost everyone i know that this is not done. In keeping with my reputation as someone who would never toe the line, i persist in saving my fingers for better things. Like caressing!
Monday, September 22, 2008
love and shoes
Suddenly, love overtakes me. On a Monday morning, that too!
i suspect that i am the kind who finds perverse pleasure in seeking troubled waters. When calm weather prevails, i feel the need to stir the waters to whip up a storm. i have stopped trying to understand the warped way my mind works – some things need to remain shrouded in mystery. i think i go out of my way to court trouble, just so to test if i can survive another one of life’s jokes. Sometimes i get tired of myself – of this constant need to ruminate on the purpose of life, of trying to figure out the meaning of my existence blah blah and more blah blah. Sometimes i wish to be ordinary – ordinary in the sense that i would be contend with what i have and long for whatever it is that other people long for – gold, house, car blah blah . In a way, i am unattached to most things – sometimes even the books i seemingly cannot survive without. i feel like a freak at times.
Now, you ask, where does love comes into this? Sometimes, i feel like i want to flee from love – the many atrocities it inflicts on hearts fickle enough to succumb to its charm. Sometimes, i don’t want to be loved or love –i just want to stare at some spot on the ceiling and pretend i am thinking when all my mind does is tune out everything and dance to some tune of its own.
And sometimes, i am overwhelmed by love – to love and love till i am purged of this feeling. Do we have a finite amount of love assigned to us – one day, we would find we are out of love? Sometimes, as i read and he sleeps with his arm thrown around me; when he reaches out for me in his sleep, i feel the love ooze out like lava from a long suppressed vent (i know, my metaphors are as warped as i!).
One such day is today. i was so overwhelmed with love that i polished his shoes for him – i don’t know who was more surprised – me or him.
i suspect that i am the kind who finds perverse pleasure in seeking troubled waters. When calm weather prevails, i feel the need to stir the waters to whip up a storm. i have stopped trying to understand the warped way my mind works – some things need to remain shrouded in mystery. i think i go out of my way to court trouble, just so to test if i can survive another one of life’s jokes. Sometimes i get tired of myself – of this constant need to ruminate on the purpose of life, of trying to figure out the meaning of my existence blah blah and more blah blah. Sometimes i wish to be ordinary – ordinary in the sense that i would be contend with what i have and long for whatever it is that other people long for – gold, house, car blah blah . In a way, i am unattached to most things – sometimes even the books i seemingly cannot survive without. i feel like a freak at times.
Now, you ask, where does love comes into this? Sometimes, i feel like i want to flee from love – the many atrocities it inflicts on hearts fickle enough to succumb to its charm. Sometimes, i don’t want to be loved or love –i just want to stare at some spot on the ceiling and pretend i am thinking when all my mind does is tune out everything and dance to some tune of its own.
And sometimes, i am overwhelmed by love – to love and love till i am purged of this feeling. Do we have a finite amount of love assigned to us – one day, we would find we are out of love? Sometimes, as i read and he sleeps with his arm thrown around me; when he reaches out for me in his sleep, i feel the love ooze out like lava from a long suppressed vent (i know, my metaphors are as warped as i!).
One such day is today. i was so overwhelmed with love that i polished his shoes for him – i don’t know who was more surprised – me or him.
Friday, September 19, 2008
help.....
So much for my resolve! They announced the Dumb Charades event. And i just could not resist though i cannot act to save my ass. But i am good at guessing. So there. Lets see kya gul khilate he hum! hmmm...
Still in office trying to test the final code for the release. Need to kick this habit of last-minute everything.
Help me! The code is not working. And i want to go home. boo hoo
Still in office trying to test the final code for the release. Need to kick this habit of last-minute everything.
Help me! The code is not working. And i want to go home. boo hoo
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
update -- recipe--
Well, first, the result of the antakshri. If you knew me as well as my sister does, you would have understood by now. i called her up one hour after the event and before i could tell her, she told me she knew i have mot won anything just from the fact that i did not call up right after it got over! Umm…A creature who would leave no chance to blow her trumpets, if i had done well, it would have been blogged right after the event. We came second last! And got three CDs of AR Rehman to remind me of it till i die or till i smash those CDs. Before you snicker, well, we did good. It was just that the other teams were better than us. And the prelude round did us in. i can remember lyrics but if somebody plays 4 seconds of prelude and ask me to identify the song, i go something like “Duh”. And there was the round where they showed us a picture and we were supposed to identify the song. The twist being that they blurred or cut off the identifying factor! So we were supposed to identify the Taal rain song with just Ash’s ankle showing in the picture. And there was another one with Ash’s midriff – the kaajra rey song. The other teams did well. Just proves that they spend more time watching V, MTV and the other music channels instead of Travel& Living, Discovery or BBC. Grapes are sour…
This is hopefully the last time i would fool myself into thinking that i can win everything!
Life is going good. After all the whining i did last week! Just goes to show that silver linings are still in fashion.
The new flat is almost ready. The flooring is complete. We went to check out the cooking range. Boy, are they expensive. But i dream of a kitchen where i can bake, grill, dish out all the delicacies. Talking of cooking, i prepared panang chicken curry yesterday. And it turned out yummy. It is so easy to prepare – all you need is panang paste which you can pick up at any supermarket, coconut milk and the meat. i didn’t use canned coconut milk – made it on my own. If you are pressed for time but still want to whip up something exotic, try this dish. Too bad i did not take any picture.
The recipe is actually a mixture of all the recipes i found online. All the recipes i found called for fish sauce, lemon grass and kafir lime leaves. i omitted all these from my recipe for the simple reason that I could not lay my hands on these ingredients.
Meat of your choice – (i chose chicken) 600 gms – the original recipe called for 400 gms but i hate cooking anything less than ½ kg!!
Coconut milk – 2 cups (if you have the time and patience, make it on your own)
Panang curry paste – 3 teaspoons
Sugar – 1 teaspoon (Adjust according to taste)
Salt – To taste
Fry the meat in vegetable oil till it is almost done. Drain and keep aside
Heat 1 cup of coconut milk. When it starts to simmer, add the panang curry paste. Let the mixture thicken. Now add the meat. Mix well. Add the remaining 1 cup of coconut milk, sugar and salt. Let it cook till it thickens. I added grated coconut left over after making the milk. And as an afterthought, I added sliced tomatoes and green chillies – just to stick to my character of never being able to stick to the original recipe! Garnish with chopped coriander. And viola, your panang chicken curry is ready. Try it. You would not be disappointed.
This is hopefully the last time i would fool myself into thinking that i can win everything!
Life is going good. After all the whining i did last week! Just goes to show that silver linings are still in fashion.
The new flat is almost ready. The flooring is complete. We went to check out the cooking range. Boy, are they expensive. But i dream of a kitchen where i can bake, grill, dish out all the delicacies. Talking of cooking, i prepared panang chicken curry yesterday. And it turned out yummy. It is so easy to prepare – all you need is panang paste which you can pick up at any supermarket, coconut milk and the meat. i didn’t use canned coconut milk – made it on my own. If you are pressed for time but still want to whip up something exotic, try this dish. Too bad i did not take any picture.
The recipe is actually a mixture of all the recipes i found online. All the recipes i found called for fish sauce, lemon grass and kafir lime leaves. i omitted all these from my recipe for the simple reason that I could not lay my hands on these ingredients.
Meat of your choice – (i chose chicken) 600 gms – the original recipe called for 400 gms but i hate cooking anything less than ½ kg!!
Coconut milk – 2 cups (if you have the time and patience, make it on your own)
Panang curry paste – 3 teaspoons
Sugar – 1 teaspoon (Adjust according to taste)
Salt – To taste
Fry the meat in vegetable oil till it is almost done. Drain and keep aside
Heat 1 cup of coconut milk. When it starts to simmer, add the panang curry paste. Let the mixture thicken. Now add the meat. Mix well. Add the remaining 1 cup of coconut milk, sugar and salt. Let it cook till it thickens. I added grated coconut left over after making the milk. And as an afterthought, I added sliced tomatoes and green chillies – just to stick to my character of never being able to stick to the original recipe! Garnish with chopped coriander. And viola, your panang chicken curry is ready. Try it. You would not be disappointed.
Friday, September 12, 2008
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Am having big moths (butterflies are too beautiful to be inside anyone’s anatomy) in my stomach. The antakshri competition. Such is my confidence that i am sure we would be the team with the lowest score. i am have been trying to remember songs – like yesterday night, seeing me stare at the ceiling mumbling something, he asked me “are you trying to remember songs?’. i am so sure we are going to lose. i know old songs but am at a complete loss when it comes to the new ones. i am so out of touch – like a dinosaur. Which begs the question why i decided to participate in the first place. Because i am a sadist.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
--there she blows again
The clouds parted a bit. And a bit of sunshine filtered into my life. Of course, i could do without it since i seem to prefer darkness more than light! He has been sweet, trying his best to draw me out from wherever it is that i withdraw into after every fight. i have been sulky – i told you I don’t give up gracefully! i am the type who would bite off the opponent’s ear rather than lose gracefully. i have not bitten off any part of his body though i am seriously tempted to do so at times!
i keep wondering whether other couples fight as we do. Do they also go through this phase of fight-make up-be friends-fight again? Do they also spend the whole night fighting? And go to sleep in each other’s arms exhausted after the fight? Or maybe they are understand each other and don’t let small things get under their skin.
Is it human nature to let one small fight fog up all the good times we have had together? We concentrate more on the bitter memories than the better ones. Grudges pile up and one day - boom. Something just ignites the whole pile and it explodes in your face and leaves you wishing you had never fallen in love.
But it is not so easy to fall out of love either. Somehow we tend to think of the effort, the years we have invested in something rather than think about the days to come.
When i watch him sleep, my heart melts. i know what we have is worth saving.
It is just that sometimes, i get so witchy and bitchy and i want to lift him up and smash him to the ground – like Krishna did to his kansa mama. i am glad i am petite. If i had been like built like Hidimba, i cannot imagine the havoc i would have created. If there is anything like reincarnation, i want to be an elephant the next time around. Either that or a black widow spider.
i keep wondering whether other couples fight as we do. Do they also go through this phase of fight-make up-be friends-fight again? Do they also spend the whole night fighting? And go to sleep in each other’s arms exhausted after the fight? Or maybe they are understand each other and don’t let small things get under their skin.
Is it human nature to let one small fight fog up all the good times we have had together? We concentrate more on the bitter memories than the better ones. Grudges pile up and one day - boom. Something just ignites the whole pile and it explodes in your face and leaves you wishing you had never fallen in love.
But it is not so easy to fall out of love either. Somehow we tend to think of the effort, the years we have invested in something rather than think about the days to come.
When i watch him sleep, my heart melts. i know what we have is worth saving.
It is just that sometimes, i get so witchy and bitchy and i want to lift him up and smash him to the ground – like Krishna did to his kansa mama. i am glad i am petite. If i had been like built like Hidimba, i cannot imagine the havoc i would have created. If there is anything like reincarnation, i want to be an elephant the next time around. Either that or a black widow spider.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
weepy wednesday
Din kaal bhalo jache na amar.
Yesterday, i stayed up till 5. We stayed up till 5. Arguing, flinging barbs, accusations. And finally making up. It is tiring, mentally, emotionally and physically. And i kept wondering what i was doing. It is like being caught in a web. i struggle to free myself but i get more entangled. This is definitely not healthy. Is it because we are so in love with each other that we end up hurting each other? Or is it because all the love has evaporated in the heat of our fights? i don’t know. And i don’t want to know.
Sometimes, we make mistakes. In the choices we make. What is the best option – to undo the choice or face the consequences of our choice? i have always believed in paying for my choices. Now, i wonder whether i have not paid enough already. i know i would be happy all by myself too. Maybe happier than what i am now. But it is so hard to let go. So hard. So fucking hard that i bleed all over.
He said he thinks it would work. If only we tried. Maybe we expect so much from each other. Expectations. i know expectations is the root cause of our unhappiness. i know it. But still, i can’t stop myself sometimes from saving myself from expectations.
hee hee hee...i am tickled pink because i am so melodramatic! i should have been in Ekta kapoor's soaps wearing designer sari without blouse and making faces, crying bucketful of tears over husbands who would die and spring back to life again. Why am i wasting my talent coding?!! My tears would earn me more. And i would not have to use glycerine too.
Yesterday, i stayed up till 5. We stayed up till 5. Arguing, flinging barbs, accusations. And finally making up. It is tiring, mentally, emotionally and physically. And i kept wondering what i was doing. It is like being caught in a web. i struggle to free myself but i get more entangled. This is definitely not healthy. Is it because we are so in love with each other that we end up hurting each other? Or is it because all the love has evaporated in the heat of our fights? i don’t know. And i don’t want to know.
Sometimes, we make mistakes. In the choices we make. What is the best option – to undo the choice or face the consequences of our choice? i have always believed in paying for my choices. Now, i wonder whether i have not paid enough already. i know i would be happy all by myself too. Maybe happier than what i am now. But it is so hard to let go. So hard. So fucking hard that i bleed all over.
He said he thinks it would work. If only we tried. Maybe we expect so much from each other. Expectations. i know expectations is the root cause of our unhappiness. i know it. But still, i can’t stop myself sometimes from saving myself from expectations.
hee hee hee...i am tickled pink because i am so melodramatic! i should have been in Ekta kapoor's soaps wearing designer sari without blouse and making faces, crying bucketful of tears over husbands who would die and spring back to life again. Why am i wasting my talent coding?!! My tears would earn me more. And i would not have to use glycerine too.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
...and so does tuesday
The mood is no better than yesterday. But i am past caring. Or at least, i am pretending not to care. Which i am good at – i mean pretence. i could pretend i am hurt when my soul is somersaulting inside in joy. i could pretend i am happy when my heart is being broken into smithereens. Maybe this world is pretence. We go through it taking it for real.
Maybe i have crossed into the other world. Or hanging somewhere in between sanity and insanity.
Please tell me whether the moon is waxing or waning.
Maybe i have crossed into the other world. Or hanging somewhere in between sanity and insanity.
Please tell me whether the moon is waxing or waning.
Monday, September 08, 2008
monday hates me
i don’t know whether it is the Monday sickness or whatever that is plaguing my soul. i feel sad. Unhappy. Disgruntled with life. i don’t want to code. Or even nag the kids – i am that depressed! i didn’t even go for the morning adda-cum-tea break.
Every passing day seems to highlight the fact that life is passing me by. Or i am passing life by. Whatever. It is like i feel i don’t want anything more. i just want to sleep it off. Sleep, dream and sleep some more. i sound like a seriously depressed person who needs to be on Prozac. Maybe i am one. Or maybe my hormones are acting up again.
Here i am, whining again. If i were not so much in love with myself, i would hate this trait of mine. i am seemingly so good at spouting pearls of wisdom when it comes to other people’s lives. When it comes to my own, in spite of my oh-i-am-so-clever attitude, i falter and stumble and stub whatever can be stubbed.
Maybe this is what they call disenchantment with the mayavi duniya. Maybe i am finally ready to renounce this world. All i want now is just to be alone. With a book for company. And i don’t even want the wireless connection. Oh, i am getting so close.
Of course, tomorrow might see me in a different mood. Maybe i would be ready to conquer the world. Or maybe i would have sunk deeper into depression and ready to renounce even my books. i am so f***** fickle that it makes me love myself even more!
Every passing day seems to highlight the fact that life is passing me by. Or i am passing life by. Whatever. It is like i feel i don’t want anything more. i just want to sleep it off. Sleep, dream and sleep some more. i sound like a seriously depressed person who needs to be on Prozac. Maybe i am one. Or maybe my hormones are acting up again.
Here i am, whining again. If i were not so much in love with myself, i would hate this trait of mine. i am seemingly so good at spouting pearls of wisdom when it comes to other people’s lives. When it comes to my own, in spite of my oh-i-am-so-clever attitude, i falter and stumble and stub whatever can be stubbed.
Maybe this is what they call disenchantment with the mayavi duniya. Maybe i am finally ready to renounce this world. All i want now is just to be alone. With a book for company. And i don’t even want the wireless connection. Oh, i am getting so close.
Of course, tomorrow might see me in a different mood. Maybe i would be ready to conquer the world. Or maybe i would have sunk deeper into depression and ready to renounce even my books. i am so f***** fickle that it makes me love myself even more!
Thursday, September 04, 2008
samay o dhire chalo
It is already September. And to think it only seems like yesterday that i ushered in January.
Another year about to end. And nothing much to show for it. So many decisions made, unmade. Dreams dreamed. Dreams unraveled. i still don’t have a driving license. i still have not cultivated enough patience not to frown and fume when a junior makes the same mistake twice. i still don’t have the grace to give up a fight without having the last word/punch.
To make up for all of the things i should have done and have not got around to doing, i am going to participate in the antakshri contest next week. The first time I am gathering up courage to actually open my mouth to sing and make a fool of myself! i have a good head for lyrics. The only thing is my voice is not the kind made for singing. But what the hell, there is a first time for everything. i have managed to rope in a junior to be my partner. Now it is time to bring out the iPod i have neglected for so long and start my preparation. If we win, this would make this my fourth win in a row in office club events. Kind of a grand slam!! The things i console myself with!! It is pathetic.
Another year about to end. And nothing much to show for it. So many decisions made, unmade. Dreams dreamed. Dreams unraveled. i still don’t have a driving license. i still have not cultivated enough patience not to frown and fume when a junior makes the same mistake twice. i still don’t have the grace to give up a fight without having the last word/punch.
To make up for all of the things i should have done and have not got around to doing, i am going to participate in the antakshri contest next week. The first time I am gathering up courage to actually open my mouth to sing and make a fool of myself! i have a good head for lyrics. The only thing is my voice is not the kind made for singing. But what the hell, there is a first time for everything. i have managed to rope in a junior to be my partner. Now it is time to bring out the iPod i have neglected for so long and start my preparation. If we win, this would make this my fourth win in a row in office club events. Kind of a grand slam!! The things i console myself with!! It is pathetic.
Monday, September 01, 2008
don't you cry tonight
Does crying heal? i think it just gives you a headache and swollen eyelids! Is crying good for the soul? Maybe. Sometimes, the tears wash away a bit of your pain. Sometimes, they add to it by reminding you of things that made you start crying in the first place.
These tears-
These droplets of water i shed
From eyes swollen like pregnant clouds
-Can they convey my pain to you?
Or would they just dry up
without telling their story?
These tears-
These droplets of water i shed
From eyes swollen like pregnant clouds
-Can they convey my pain to you?
Or would they just dry up
without telling their story?
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