MindChimes

Aloo Methi always transports me back to my school days when lunch hour used to be such a jolly affair. One of our Marwari classmates used to bring the tastiest Marwari food items for lunch. We would wait for her to open her lunch box so as to plunge and have our fill. Among all others I remember this Aloo Methi which won our hearts and taste buds the very first time we tried it.

That time I was too young to ask for the recipe and by the time I started cooking we were all too busy to be bothered about recipes. Till one day some of us went to visit her at her new house to meet her brand new baby. Wonder of wonders! She did remember what we craved so many years back in school. She had prepared our favourite Aloo Methi for lunch. Finally, I got the recipe… Thanx pal!

Ingredients

1. 2 tbsp Sunflower oil
2. 4 Medium Potatoes - cut into small cubes
3. 1/2 tsp. Turmeric (Haldi) powder
4. 2 tsp. Coriander (Dhania) powder
5. 1 tsp. Red-Chilli Powder
6. 1 tsp. Dried Green Mango (Amchur) powder
7. 2-3 tsp. Dried Fenugreek (Kasoori Methi) leaves
8. A pinch of Asafoetida (Hing)
9. Salt to taste

Cooking time

5-7 minutes

Method

1. Heat oil in a deep bottom pan.
2. Fry the potatoes for 2-3 minutes on medium flame.
3. Add the Coriander, Turmeric and Red Chilli powder and fry.
4. Add salt.
5. When the potatoes are almost done add the Amchur powder and Kasoori Methi and fry for a minute.
6. Once done, add a pinch of Hing.

Hing imparts a distinct flavour (and aroma) in many prominent Indian dishes - though primarily, it’s used in the vegetarian ones.

You can eat this mouthwatering dish either with Poori or Chapattis.

Enjoy!

Shifting can be a royal pain. It seems as though there is no way I can avoid having to pack my earthly possessions and keep lugging them from one place to the other. The number of times I have shifted you would think I would be a pro by now. I am. Sort of. But still can’t help hating it.

The first time I remember shifting when I couldn’t even talk properly. I remember thinking it was a very interesting affair as I got to ride the truck carrying our furniture. Next time it was a little less fun as I was continually asked to stay out of the way. I can’t remember when I got into the habit of shifting. I can’t even count the number of times I have shifted. End of each shifting I promised to myself ‘not again’ and a couple of years would see me piling clothes in empty cases and wrapping glassware with old newspapers.

I have given up promising as I know it as a rule that this promise too shall be broken. We desperately needed to shift to a bigger apartment as our little flat was getting cramped with two new members. It would overflow each time we had guests staying over. Apartments can be expensive in Bangkok but somehow we managed to find one which suited our means just fine. Once the place was finalized and the legalities settled we started our packing again. New packing boxes were brought in. Suitcases were emptied. Bags were filled. But even then we had half the stuff still lying around. So we decided a second trip should do the trick. But once the truck left a second time we still had an assortment of utilities lying around with me in the middle. I had no idea how to start packing again.

To make matters worse my baby wanted to be entertained all the time he wasn’t asleep. My dog wanted a cuddle every time I played with my baby coz otherwise he refused to eat. Having settled everything as soon as I pick up some stuff pack my mum calls and wants to have a chat. If shifting was difficult earlier I had no idea what difficulty meant back then. I may even have cried out of sheer frustration a couple of times.

There is another trend that I pointed out in the course of shifting. I have a habit of shifting after sundown. Never have I shifted anywhere during the day. It has always been between 5 to 10 in the evening. But this time surpassed all past experiences. At 10:30 PM the 3nd consignment of our luggage left in a van. By the time I entered our new flat for the first time with my baby and my puppy, today had become tomorrow. Once again I wanted to cry as soon as I entered as it was well past midnight and I didn’t know where to put my baby to sleep with the magnanimous mess around me. To top that, I had a curious puppy sniffing around and getting in the way, causing me to trip over every few minutes - but then again he was the least of my problems.

Somehow we managed to move around some debris (that’s exactly how everything looked at that time) and made our bed. I shut my eyes tight, all the time chanting to myself that it was all a bad dream and would go away in the morning. Well, my bad dream didn’t go away in the morning but it sure looks much better now. Don’t have a clue how we got the courage to start unpacking but we did. Now we have a place which can called pretty decent give or take a few boxes here and there which we haven’t got around to unpacking yet. Another feather to our cap. Another promise never to move. Not unless we are leaving Bangkok for good.

“You can’t be a real country unless you have a beer and an airline. It helps if you have some kind of a football team, or some nuclear weapons, but at the very least you need a beer.” - Frank Zappa

Drinking was a sport solely dominated by men. Frank Sinatra said at one time “I feel sorry for people who don’t drink. When they wake up in the morning, that’s as good as they’re going to feel all day.” Down the years men have taken his saying to heart. But so did women.

History has documented some bold women venturing into the male dominated world and curving their niche. They matched their men step for step in every field. Why then would they be left behind in drinking? Some say ‘Reality is an illusion that occurs due to the lack of alcohol.’ Women too raise their glasses to escape the illusion. The trouble starts when it gets difficult to count the glasses. The first thing in the human personality that dissolves in alcohol is dignity.

Here are some of the instances one may come across when the fairer sex gets drunk.

1. Hitting the dance floor after a couple of drinks makes one realize what an inconvenience shoes can be. The beloved accessories turn into evil contraptions that won’t even allow them to walk straight, let alone dance.
2. Every song is followed by an excited shriek of “I love this number”. All happy-time memories of the first kiss or the last dance of the long lost days come flooding and somehow all the songs become ‘my best song’.
3. All other dance forms dwindle leaving in their place the only step that seems sexy and happening to the alcohol ridden mind - The hip-wriggling and arm-flailing-overhead step. Agreed that the pull of gravity seems heightened and staying upright becomes an ordeal.
4. Those labeled geeks and freaks suddenly develop new characteristics which seem attractive to the heightened spirits.
5. The all important ‘purse’ loses its meaning. More than half the time one doesn’t seem to care even if they are treading on it in their fervor to dance and scream .
6. All of a sudden a lot of hidden rage and hatred rear their heads. ‘Kicking some ass’ right then for justice becomes the current motto of life. Though five minutes later one tends to wonder why they wanted to kick the poor souls ass.
7. As the number of glasses increase so does ones suspicion that the waiter has been serving more of cola and lime and hardly any rum or vodka. Ignorant they are of the taste buds that have gone numb and can no more taste the alcohol.
8. Everyone becomes someone life would be difficult without. Hugging and expressing how much they love each other becomes one of the primary group activity.
9. The stranger in the bathroom mirror looks vaguely similar to oneself. The diva that arrived seems to have left quite a few drinks ago having left behind something the cat dragged in.
10. Once home, the bed seems pretty tough like the kitchen floor and the pillow kind of wet like the mop.

Sometimes people get so involved in their daily lives that they forget their dreams. They forget what they stand for. They forget what they wanted to do with their lives. And then, sometimes they take their lives so much for granted they also forget that they are living one of their dreams.

I don’t remember when I stopped noticing all these things. I don’t remember when I became so involved with everyday on goings that I forgot to thank god for all that I have. I forgot that I prayed for it all every moment at one time and now I am being petty over small things instead of being happy. I am bothered about all that I don’t have and all that I could have had. Small incidents become so important that I blow them out of proportion so I can feel sorry for myself. Blaming others come easily. Tempers run high. We seem to tread on thin ice all the time – all for nothing.

Till one day some stranger from another part of the world reminds me what I really think and what I want. They remind me how I forgot to be happy when what I wrote ages ago helps them find meaning and happiness. Now that I got an insight of where I am going wrong it is easier to start all over again from this very moment. The agenda doesn’t involve too much. Just try to stay happy and overlook petty incidents. God knows when I won’t have them anymore and will regret that I didn’t enjoy them when I had a chance.

I am glad that I write. Thanks Stranger! You are my conscience speaking.

They say the daily events are woven together by miracles and they are so commonplace that most of the times we fail to notice them. We simply take them for granted.

The last year has been pretty eventful for us starting with all the wedding excitement. We had just returned and settling down to our regular life when we were presented with a new family member.

One evening we kept hearing an agonized whining somewhere behind our house. The pitiful crying went on all through the night but we couldn’t locate the source. Finally, next morning after a lot of searching we came upon a tiny little puppy inside this dilapidated house covered with dense overgrowth. He looked very frail and was unable to walk. On top of that it seemed that he was seriously injured. My husband got him home perched on his palm, yelling away to glory. We couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him - except that every once in a while he would stop moaning, try to get up and fall flat on his face and start at the top of his voice all over again. We immediately took him to a clinic and started looking for a shelter who would take him in, once the clinic let him go. We were even ready to pay for him each month. But the clinic promptly concluded that the pup has contracted canine distemper - a particularly fatal disease. Should he somehow survive that, he would never walk again or lead a normal life. Immediately we knew no shelter would accept him and neither would he last long in a shelter.

The pup needed love, care and loads of patience to even survive a week in the condition he was in. He must have been hit by a car or some other vehicle and tossed inside. He was tiny with a head larger than his body. There was a progressive inflammation which gradually made the head grow bigger and hence the poor pup couldn’t keep balance or walk. On top of all that he hardly had any strength and was almost entirely blind. Even then he kept trying to walk and ate when we fed him (using a syringe).

Eventually we decided we will take care of him since he had decided to find us and not another. He was named Goofy. Goofy became a part of our daily routines and we adjusted for him to make him comfortable. We fed him, played with him, bathed him, and took him to various doctors asking their opinions. Some gave us hope. Some congratulated us on our courage and deed but expressed sorrow and helplessness in the end. Our lives went on.

Goofy learnt to eat chicken and mashed potatoes (from KFC) with rice along with his puppy food and milk supplements. Slowly he gathered enough strength to start on a wobbly walk which grew steadier by the day. He started to differentiate between the light and the dark. He learnt to switch off the fans each time we switched them on. He tried to raid the kitchen, fell off the stairs and tried to bite my mum when she chided him. The doctors kept giving the same dictum each time.

Hope renewed with one young doctor at a clinic we were recommended to. She started treating Goofy with new drugs. She also informed us that the crack in the skull (which was causing his cerebral fluid to seep out and accumulate under the skin - the root cause of all this) was healing well. She was optimistic and we regained our spirits with her. Goofy hated the thermometer or the needles. We coaxed him with chewy bacon treats. Each appointment would get us new bite marks and loads of complains from Goof.

Everyday Goofy gained a little more strength. The totter became a more confident walk and eventually broke into a run. He started eating by himself. Suddenly one day he was following our feet to bite and we knew he was not blind.

It all happened very slowly over the last 6 months. The little injured puppy is now a strong and lean 6 month old. He is still very moody and not so confident of his sight or walk but he is no different from other pups his age. He eats, plays, jumps, runs, irritates, and gets scolded. He keeps getting better everyday and keeps surprising us. Touch wood!

What more - he is exceptionally fond of our 2 month old son, Adi. Goofy keeps a watch on him all the time and the moment Adi starts crying, Goof makes it a point to rush down and inform us - in case we’re in the other room.

I am more than happy to say that all those doctors who had written him off were so wrong ! They gave up too fast. There is nothing that doesn’t go right again with courage, love, care and positive thinking. That’s what makes for a real miracle and Goofy proved it to the world.