The Kitchen Diaries! chapter #1

Wednesday - 17/10/12

Why and How I felt like going to the kitchen and picking up those tongs in order to hold up a pan full of white creamy mushroom sauce which in the later series of events will go into heavenly sautéed fresh exotic vegetables.

And my kitchen chronicles began…

After cooking for two days in a row I realized, it is a sense of self satisfaction and a relief in a way. Cooking frees you from the stress, the boredom and the fact that you are bound to someone else for the fulfilment of tongue’s desires and buds’ yearnings. I put my cooking pants on and started the journey alone feeling the 'queen of gourmet' because I decided to start with a not-so-conventional-dish. Day one was Egyptian which I will talk in my next chapter. Today, I floated on a European continent.

Dish of the Day: Baked Vegetable with cheese and bread crumbs served with Garlic Bread.

With the winters settling in; you know that you need that extra muslin sheet or a quilt. You know you want to thrive more on lattes and cappuccinos than the chilled crushed iced coffee. You know a glass of tea with cinnamon and crushed ginger would work perfectly for the season’s chilly evenings. So, the food should also soothe you while the nature announces the incoming of the white season.

French beans, cauliflower, snow peas, orange carrot, mushrooms, onion, capsicum were chopped and sautéed in a spoonful of olive oil and added to the rich white sauce sprinkled with the nutmeg powder. Then, it was gradually transferred to a borosil glass bowl for it to go into an electric oven. I prefer baking in a conventional oven to a nouveau fancy microwave. The dish was garnished with bread crumbs and grated cheese for it to taste richer. After 20 minutes, my hard work paid off and the baked dish was not only appealing to the eyes but also savoury to the buds.

I bought some fresh baked garlic bread from the bakery and buttered it with amul to bake garlic bread without cheese. Aah! Something was missing, was definitely missing, oh I remembered the continental food is incomplete without a glass of wine. Sadly enough, it is not on my list today so something has to match up to that drink. What about a mojito, I said to myself.  Crushed ice with mint leaves and lemon soda in it, I prepared a jug full of mojito.

Now, I can walk out of that kitchen, switch on my idiot box and spread a napery on my bed with a glass of mojito and a bowl of creamy white mushroom sauce lavishly enshrouded with the veggies sautéed complimented by fresh garlic bread neatly buttered and baked. My evening was fulfilling not only for my stomach but also for my whole being. I cooked for myself and that too amazingly well. I felt happy, proud, joyful all at the same time.

With a smile on my face I heaved a big spoon with the vegetables in white sauce and puffed it in my mouth feeling the richness of the cream melting in my mouth. And, I sighed with relief. I did a good job; indeed.

THREE NIGHTS!

Three days. Dark room. Oil Lamp. 3 books. 2 cups of coffee. Little or no dinner. One laptop. 1000 movies. Mess all around including me. Oddly calm I have been in these three days, trying to explore and understand the universe of a locked room. What is it? What feeling? What do I want out of being alone and enjoying my own silence. There are a lot of things rushing like a blood gushes in my head. I have never been like this. My anger, my bitterness spurts like a poison when am upset. This time tears whooshed out in intervals as it formed a crescendo every time. I can’t stay quiet for long. Maybe because I gave up, I resisted and I thought it is time to introspect and retrospect.

I thought thought and re-thought. It wasn’t an unusual activity for me, because I do it every day but this time I was deep into my thoughts. I was enjoying my isolated nights. As if I were on a night sabbatical. What was the conclusion? Nothing! I could not understand the grief and the solution to the grief. But all I could figure out was that the world is so troubled. Everyone is so lost. Lost in their dreams, their desires, their angst, their cognition, and their ego. No one is able to maintain the interpersonal hook to his/her life engaging soul. It might be a chum, partner, better half or a room sharer.

I remember never being so cloistered ever. There was always someone lending a helping shoulder or a word of wisdom. But it was rejuvenating and refreshing in its own way. As if I got a time out for myself. Time to revive from the old and find something new. A new interest. A new job. A new room. A new way. A new me. Not a pseudo self but a better me. The day moves at such a fast pace as if we are living on a fast lane that we don’t get time to think about our reactions and actions on the typical situations. Maybe you don’t need expectations, dependency, botheration or care. Maybe you are good enough for you. May be you learnt the lyrics of a new song, danced on a happy sad song, drank a new wine or started a book which you wanted to read for long. Maybe it is good to be alone for THREE NIGHTS.

A Cup and a Tea Story!

The Cup and Tea Story!!

A room full of cups and saucers

Some look plain and some are pretty

What would you choose?

If all have the same purpose of serving tea.

I look around to find my cup; I don’t know what I am looking for?

I may like the green one; I may want the one with the gorgeous figure

What is that will make me decide whether it’s the glass one or the one without the gripper

I introspect and see that I like the cups more than the tea?

I smell the aroma, it is all the same

Tea does shape to the base it is poured in

The taste is in the altitude and the making

Then why am I so confused as to which cup to choose?

Is the cup more important than the tea which is my basic need?

Cup is all the way more ostentatious indeed

Why I run after the things which make the tea more interesting

I myself have the answers to it, but I don’t want to listen.

I ponder again and a mystery is evading

Nothing can tell me why is the tea boiling?

I leave it to that and let it be

I introspect and see that the cup is not more important than the tea….

car gender

Pushpa and Sanjay were fighting whether Momo is a boy or a girl…oops! Momo is Sanna’s new car Hyundai i10 pretty much a girl because mostly girls like to drive it (just our theory nothing to do with the facts). So with every car passing by; a convention for the gender assignment begun.

Pushpa: here goes a boy! Chevrolet Octavia.

Someone: i10 blue is a boy

Sanjay: No i10 is a girl is a girl is a girl like how swift is a boy.

Sanjay: i10 is a girl, i20 a boy…what would i30 be???

Pushpa: A Man!

Sanjay: No, a Man would be Mercedes Benz, a Honda City.

Pushpa: Honda City would be an old uncle who is probably retired and thinking of selling his house and buying a not so edgy but comfy apartment on hills.

Sanjay: that would be maruti 800.

Pushpa and Sanjay: Hmm!!

Pushpa: now that’s a boy- BMW—ooh I would marry that boy

Sanjay: yeah! A rich brat for sure, doesn’t care about anything in particular

Pushpa: yeah that’s true! But I will still date that boy ;)

Pushpa: you know those little hapless oldies who just go for grocery shipping would be a Zen, a pure saint

Poo: hmm and little old aunts would be Reva.

Sanjay: Honda CRV is a boy

Pushpa: it is a man

Sanjay: it is a rowdy boy, street boy huh

Pushpa: and then Tata Safari is?

Sanjay: a Gujjar Boy

Pushpa: yeah and that XYLO is a truck driver probably zoop zoop zoop

Sanjay: A XYLO is probably a North Delhi boy with DESI BOY written at the rear window

Pushpa: hey!! I am from North Delhi

Sanjay: that is why the Spoof HEHE

Pushpa: who is a Jatt Boy?

Sanjay: An Accent

Pushpa: WagonR is an old, dilapidated child suffering from malnutrition

Sanjay: I think we got carried away! Let us get back to work.

Funny Bones

Pushpa a.k.a Purbasha is a mad mad woman, she is from a galaxy where the Venus dwells. A purest soul with diplomacy (for the right reasons) ingrained in her system. In her words “I am a JATT, mere khoon mein hai yeh sab”. The way she says it is so endearing, it is hard to get enough of her. She wants to buy a gun for her b’day. Oops no no! you took it all wrong guys, she is not the fighting types, it's not in her blood. But trust me the most petite, fancy and funny girl I have ever met. A glass of wine in one hand wearing a fancy gown, waiving her hand for that paparazzi moment, she stands tall as the most entertaining member of our group.

Lotta a.k.a Priyanka, huh! You have to meet her to know her. She is a teddy bear with no teddier or beary qualities in her. Yes, I just made up those words. She is eccentric, impulsive - non impulsive, funny - serious, stoic- fun, dangerous - harmless, quiet - social, endearing, and independent. She is one of a kind. No one is like Lotta. Everybody wants to keep her at their homes. With her grunts and raised brows she can scare the shit out of people (quite literally) and everyone agrees to be her SLAVE!

Sanjay a.k.a Sanjana Keshava. She is awesome, SORTED, SORTED, SORTED! She can verbally trash you down or she can love you with all the heart. But you have to be her pal dude, you can’t simply mess with her. Out of the two characters Santa and Banta she I dunno is who but surely one of them, the other one being Pushpa. Their perfect Jodi is the ideal entertainment. 

Pushpa Facts for Cocktail Dresses:

# Once she was trying her dresses for a cocktail party and with each dress trial she named a dress going with her emotions:

# Isme “your place or mine” wali feeling arahi hai.

# This looks like “let’s do it tonight” dress.

# Poornima that dress is so hot, it’s like “tears in my eyes” dress. I got tears in my eyes when I first saw it.

# It is “I look slutty” dress.

There are more to come in future I am sure…

What Pushpa says:

# I bought a new balm yesterday and it smells like summer.

# Pushpa: I have blisters on my tongue and I can’t possibly taste anything. I think my taste buds have died.

Sanna: Ya! I wish we had tongue specialists.

Pushpa: In all her haughtiness replies “excuse me, haven’t you heard of ENT doctors? Ear, Nose and Tongue”

Burst of laughter.

# Out of all the four projects, this one is the least loved and unattended. Where mother says to her kid- do whatever you want and I don’t care. (yes she calls the projects her kids but not out of love)

# ab yeh project toh anaath ho gaya hai, humhe hi adopt karna padega

# HUL ke time pe toh humein nani yaad agayi thi

# she gave Buddha bhaiya to prepare a bowl of maggi, and he did not come for an hour. She says “Buddha bhaiya so gaye kya maggi ke upar”

# Pushpa: Puppies are cuter than babies.

    ME:   marry a dog you will have puppies.

# we were eating bhel puri in the evening and she got a chance to play with the ingredients and this is what she says “ I am having more fun mixing it, it is like a game” and she kept mixing it for LONG!

# I am called Queene because my parents thought I will act like one when I grow old. And, yes I do.

What she wants to be:

# May: I want to be a rockstar, they are so cool

# June: I want to have a fling with a rockstar, they have a cool lifestyle

# July: I want to be a fashion advisor

# August: I want to be a baby stylist

# September: I want to play court case court case and say My Lord

# October: I want to be an actress in all mushy films especially Yash Chopra

# November: I want to get married and I don’t wish to work any longer

# December: to her friend “can I come and become an usher in SAIF-EENA wedding”

# January: I wish I was a fashion critic

# February: I will marry an IAS my parents will choose for me

walking down the yellow brick road

Walking down the brick road with a cup of peach ice tea in hand, sipping a chilled sip as if it’s devouring my pain with its intrinsic quality of abating the heat. Tall edifices standing against me all around the area, where ever I could see I just found a huge building with a big name on the top of it, stating “we are the moguls of business”; “Yes we are the biggest corporate”.

Walking down the spotless and squeaky clean brick road I saw people passing by. Some were moving in herds laughing and quirking as if they were having the time of their lives in slavery embodied organizations. Some were discussing serious business strategies. Some were just thinking while smoking as the breezy wind was blowing. Some were on the phone as if all the business deals were to be cracked by them at that very hour. Some were sipping away the blues all alone like me.

I went there to get my money transferred in a bank account, got excited by a Nestea counter and I thought of picking up a glass of ice tea as the counter looked pretty attractive. I realized that however filled the world looks like ultimately each one is on its own. Every existence has its own story to tell. Like this ice tea whose purpose was to quench the thirst of a throat that is dehydrated in the scorching heat. Same way we are fighting for our existence every day in this world. I was all alone even with a lot of friends around, I felt alone. I came here to find a life, leaving behind my family, my friends, my siblings thinking will achieve a quality of life here. In fact, it deteriorated without the required support system and with too many unlike minds to handle.

In these 3 years of living in Delhi I have seen and taken too much, to understand that this is not what we are looking for, what I am looking for. It was different and hurting a lot of times. It is not that nobody was there. You have friends you can party wherever and whenever you want. You can still chill and hang around with your colleagues. You can talk to whomsoever you want. But what is the use when you have no one to actually hear you out and understand the purpose of your living. People fight, argue and mouth bad words because their ego should be given more importance.

If you are not smart in the city you are taken as a fool. They literally eat you up. They eat your individuality and what you were. Then you are very proud of your new avatar because the reason you state is “big ruthless city has made me this and taught a lot of things so that I can live without the mercy of a bigger egoistic soul”. You start fighting, start hating and start abusing and start explaining yourself by saying that the other person did the same to me so why shoudn’t I?

Ha it is so funny sometimes, that wherever you go you find confused people- who are doing something else and want completely different things in life. They don’t know what they want, what they do and what they often talk. They have weird reasons of doing something horrible to the other person and then to justify the same they will go to any heights of explanation which would stop making sense after a while and then you would say “oh please let it go”. Delhi does this to you. Delhi people are like that. When I say Delhi people it simply means people who live here and not who belong here. I am not a regionalist neither I stereotype things but their DNAs are supposed to be this way and it is so infectious that people who don’t belong here also start believing in their lives' mantras.

Maybe we are so caught up in this mesh that sometimes we forget to live simple and talk simple. Have you realized that our feelings were never complex when we were simple; we deliberately want our feelings to be complicated to call ourselves the part of this whole ‘we are so cool’ scenario.

We don’t want to be simple anymore. We want to hurt, get hurt, show our ‘nothing affects me’, ‘go fuck yourself’, ‘I give a fuck’ attitude and everything falling under the genre of life @ metro.

We act crazy, party, drink, laugh , bitch, have fun, shop, watch movies at multiplexes, dine at the best of the places, meet new people, talk to them, laugh with them and upload everything on facebook showing the world that how happy we are, and how fantastic is our life.

But nobody realizes when the day ends we end up all ALONE.