Friday, 29 May 2015

Anybody Home??


 Hi, It has been so long... So just checking in to see how things are going in and around blogsville. After a long trip to my parents, I came back and was very sloooowly recovering from so many shocks and aftershocks (read 'being lazy') and re-adapting myself to my environment. It meant loads of cleaning and laundry, and various little visits to and from friends. Meanwhile, my fingers were also itching and I did these two watercolour paintings. 

The above picture  is based on a photograph from Colleena Shakti's Flickr stream that I stumbled upon on Pinterest. I have pinned various such dance poses and intend to paint them one-by-one in future.


 I painted the above picture based on the following image I found on Pinterest, which I pinned for the express purpose of painting only. 

Quite a good similarity, huh? Well, to all of you connoisseurs of art, the obvious flaws would be visible in an instant, and I stand no chance as a painter, I know, I know! But, the visit to my parents made me nostalgic and I decided to revisit my school days, when I used to paint and do such stuff. 


I did these and a lot more... You sure will have to bear with a so much more of this kind, while I am on a roll!

Sunday, 3 May 2015

Shaken, not stirred!


Visits to 'Nana-nani-dada-dadi' have always been synonymous with fun and happiness, isn't it? As we packed our bags and boarded the train to Coco's nana's home, I hoped this visit will create some beautiful memories for Coco as well as his grandparents, since he is in such a cute and naughty age. Coco and I are visiting my parents and as we come to the end of this visit, I cannot stop myself from summarizing what this visit meant to us, since when we go back home, Coco will start play-school, and once that happens, we will bid goodbye forever to the carefree days and long visits, and I will have one thing more to worry about. Till now, I only checked my husband's calendar to find out when I could take a break. From now on, I will also follow Coco's schedule. And I will have to plan all my vacations/visits accordingly.
 Well, as we are now ready to go back, we have with us a distinct memory of a disastrous earthquake which shook us up pretty badly and left us sleepless for a few nights and restless for a few days. It was an ordinary day, with everything normal, everyone going about their day in the routine ways, when suddenly the earth shook and brought us all outside. As I grabbed Coco and ran for life, I did not for a moment realize that I was forgetting something very important. And that was my mother who was taking bath, and I did not even call out to her. When I reached a safe distance and looked back at the balcony of my house, I wanted to pull out my hair and scream at the top of my voice. It was when the building stopped shaking, she appeared at the exit of the building, all soapy and frightened, looking for us, and relief surged on her face as she saw us. During the shake, she had come out of the bathroom, looked for us, wore her clothes, switched the TV off and then came out. While all I had done was grab my baby and run barefoot, stammering random words. When I told her that I could not think about anything else except saving Coco, she laughed and said, 'Love runs downwards, like water.' She was happy that we were safe, and I was feeling guilty. To add to it was fear and restlessness. The neighbors spent two succeeding nights outside and we somehow managed to dose off indoors, while keeping our eyes and ears on high alert.

It has been more than a week now and we are reading a lot of stories about hope, courage, fear and loss in the local papers, since camps have been set up in this town which is close to Nepal border.

One of my friends asked me, why am I so quiet nowadays. The tone of my blog is usually happy and bright. It's not like I did not do something happy and creative during this time, but I just did not feel the urge to blog about happiness when my surroundings were not so happy. First rains ruined crops and eastern UP is the worst hit, and then this earthquake! These disasters and a shaky internet connection affected my mood and I decided to take a real break. Today, well I decided to end my break!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Sunday, 12 April 2015

Beauty And The Beast


                                        
March saw me plucking little flower bunches off of the grapefruit tree in my neighbor's yard and putting it in a jar filled with water in my kitchen. Such a beautiful and fragrant setting! Excited, I tried putting the jar in various possible places but could not decide where it looked most beautiful. The next morning as I walked in into the kitchen, it was so fragrant that I had to ask my husband if he had sprayed air freshener. But frankly, no room freshener can be so fresh and so beautifully fragrant like citrus flowers that have the perfect combination of freshness and limey fragrance.
I came across these lovely flowers during an evening walk. This time of the year is the best when one does enjoy a peaceful and long evening walk, especially people like me who find it extremely difficult to rise early in the morning and go for a walk. This season is the best because of the right temperature and humidity and presence of the right kind of flora and fauna. And a right combination of all these factors is very important to pull this lazy woman out of her reverie and set her on her feet to do the needful i.e. take a walk. But along with all this beauty, we have our share of beasts in the area too.

This is the road to my home. My house is so well hidden behind a row of bungalows and trees that people have difficulty finding my house. It has that haunted forest look about it that forbids faint  of heart from walking alone on this road at dusk. It is situated at an extreme end of this residential area, on the edge of a forest which is separated from our house by a deep gorge, and considering the presence of wild animals in this area, this little separating factor is a boon. 
I had once mentioned how a leopard was once spotted at the edge of my lawn (Read Here). Appearance of leopards and wild boars is not uncommon in this area and thus we always finish our walks before the fall of darkness. During these walks or while I am sitting in the lawn, I keep my eyes and ears open and stare at the side bushes as if something will jump out of it instantly. Falling leaves and small birds and squirrels make me jump, however I consider myself brave once I am inside my home. My maid finishes her work and leaves before dark and when my husband, who has set up a study room in the outhouse, goes there to study late at night, I always insist that he should carry at least a hockey stick, which he sometimes does, if only to keep me quiet.
Coco is not allowed to play alone outside, even during the day and presence of an adult is mandatory. These are a few rules that we try to follow in order to stay safe. Even after repeated requests, warnings and even threats, my husband does not always close the screen door behind him when he leaves while I am resting, and I grind my teeth when I see it wide open to the world. What if someday, the leopard invites itself to my kitchen for an afternoon snack, the main ingredient of the snack being me? After all, it regularly keeps appearing in backyards and side alleys and lawns. 

                              
Then one day in mid-March, started the spell of terror with the above news from a neighboring colony, in which a leopard dragged a teenager to nearby fields when she went out of her house after dusk, and left her dying after local people rushed to the site. The girl died later, and her death triggered a little public upheaval to the forest authorities, who then roped in a team of hunters, and the leopard was killed a few days later. 
The incident left us all terrorized and shaken and so much more alert. Earlier we used to talk jokingly about the leopard, or gossiped about its appearance in thrilled voices. Now, when it seemed to cloud our lives with the threat of getting hurt or even dying, and we narrowly dodged the encounter with fear, the jokes and the thrill turned into contemplative questions of life and death. Biggest of them all is: who killed whom? Man or leopard? 

Sunday, 5 April 2015

Chocoderella





This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 53; the fifty-third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​Soulmates: Love without ownership by Vinit K Bansal. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. 

Once upon a time there lived a chocolatier. Moulding chocolates was his passion more than profession. He used to make chocolates in all shapes and sizes. Once he moulded a batch of chocolate babies on order. When he packed his shop away for the night, he forgot one chocolate baby out on his counter. That night when the chocolate fairy visited his shop, she saw the little chocolate baby and spun her magic wand thrice and lo and behold! The baby came alive. The next morning when the chocolatier came to open his shop, he found a beautiful baby girl crying on his counter, in a pool of chocolate sauce. Her tears rolled down her cheeks and dried into chocolate chips. He named her Chocoderella and brought her home to his wife and two daughters. In the beginning everything was alright, but the chocolatier died after a few years and the wife started giving Chocoderella a step-motherly treatment, though she was a loving and caring mother to her own daughters. 

Chocoderella used to work hard all day long, wearing rags but would hardly get anything to eat. Her sisters dressed up in gorgeous dresses and ate gourmet food all day. As a result, they grew up into lumpy and lazy girls while Chocoderella was a lovely girl who smelled of hot chocolate.

Once, her sisters went to the royal ball, all decked up in jewels and pretty dresses, leaving Chocoderella home to keep their beds ready when they came back home from the ball, tired after all the dance and fun. Chocoderella sat down in a corner, crying tears of chocolate chips. As she kept crying, the floor got covered with chocolate chips and when there was no more room, the chocolate fairy appeared, and with a flick of her magic wand, turned all the chocolate into a grand coach, driven by six white horses and a uniformed coachman crisply holding a whip. She then turned Chocoderella’s rags into a beautiful gown, decorated with lace made of spun sugar and a necklace of candy gems adorned her neck. Lovely as she was, Chocoderella now looked like the goddess of temptation and desire with her golden tresses of molten caramel and her creamy skin reminding of milk chocolate that she was actually made of. 

The fairy smiled and said, ‘You are all set to go to the royal ball now, Chocoderella. But you should be back before midnight for that is when my spell ends. Your coach, horses and coachman will all become chocolate chips again and your clothes will turn to rags.’

‘All right,’ said Chocoderella happily.

Chocoderella had a gala time at the ball with the prince, and when she heard the first stroke of the midnight, she was shocked to find how quickly the hours had gone by! She was suddenly reminded of the bitter truth and reluctantly pulled herself away from the prince’s arms. As he saw her slipping away, the prince wanted to pull her back but all he could get hold of was the little finger of her right hand. In her hurry, Chocoderella pulled her hand hard and her chocolate finger snapped. Startled and shocked, she ran away. The prince stared at a vanishing Chocoderella, his jaw dropped, her little finger in his hand, smelling divine and looking tempting. In a trance like state, he took a bite of the finger. Never in his princely life had he ever had a chocolate so delicious. Without thinking, he hurriedly ate the whole finger and licked his palms crazily which had held Chocoderella and were now fragrant with her hot chocolate sweat. He had fallen madly in love with her.

When the king saw the prince’s condition, he announced on the spot, ‘Go and find the girl with caramel hair and milk chocolate face who smells like hot chocolate. The prince will get married to her.’

The king’s men now searched the whole kingdom for the chocolate girl with a missing little finger and finally reached Chocoderella’s home. Chocoderella’s sisters, in order to impress them, bathed in hot chocolate that morning. But when they came in front of king’s men, they were covered in blisters. As they were leaving, one of the men spotted Chocoderella standing in a corner, covering her right hand with a cloth.

When she saw the king’s men bringing forth Chocoderella for examination, her mother sniggered, ’Oh, but she is only a maid. She could not have gone to the royal ball.’ But it was too late. One of the men had removed the cloth from her hand and it was missing the little finger. Her hot chocolate fragrance confirmed further that she was indeed the chocolate girl that they had been looking for. At that moment, the chocolate fairy appeared and waved her magic wand. Chocoderella’s clothes changed into a royal gown, but surprisingly her hand remained unhealed.

As the sisters and the mother looked on wide-eyed, the fairy said, ‘The missing finger cannot grow again, but if you find it, I can attach it to your hand.’ As Chocoderella nodded, the fairy disappeared. The king’s men took Chocoderella to the palace where the prince was eagerly waiting for her.

One would think that Chocoderella married the prince and they lived happily ever after. But since this is a new age fairy tale, what happened next is written in golden caramel letters in the history of chocolates.


Chocoderella asked the prince about her little finger. The embarrassed prince admitted that he ate it in a crazy rush of greed and excitement, and now he wanted to marry her because he could not forget that divine taste and all he could think of was her hot chocolate fragrance. Chocoderella replied dryly to this proposition saying, ‘If you cannot resist eating a little chocolate finger, I am afraid you would eat me alive if you get the opportunity. You are not in love with me, but only lusting over chocolate. And no one can deny, chocolate can heal a broken heart, and it can almost replace love!’ Holding her head high, Chocoderella stomped out of the palace. She restarted her father’s closed chocolaterie and lived happily ever after. Only, every once in a while, Chocoderella cried for her missing little finger and there never was a dearth of chocolate chips in her chocolaterie.  



The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 03

Tuesday, 31 March 2015

Sonth Laddoos


When there is a new birth in the family, some recipes are traditionally prepared in order to celebrate as well as to improve and maintain a healthy mother and new born. I think, grand mothers all across India give something or the other special health and lactation food to the new mother. A few such food items are not only mastered by my mother in law, they are almost patented in her name, like her famous 'Sonth Laddoo'. For relatives with new born babies, she always sends a box of these amazing sonth laddoos. When my son was born, she used to keep a constant supply of these to me and when I was fed-up (pun intended), I had to ask her repeatedly to stop making them for me.

For the diet conscious, these old-world laddoos can wreak a havoc on the waistline, but they are certainly great for lactating mothers, especially those who have a premature baby to nurse to health, like I had.

They are easy to prepare, but maybe a little time consuming. To prepare laddoos, you will need:

1. Atta/whole wheat flour- 4 cups
2. Dry fruits- raisins, makhana(Lotus seed), cashews-finely chopped, thinly sliced dry coconut- 1 cup
3. Edible gum-1/4 cup
4. Ginger powder-2 tsp
5. Turmeric powder-2 tsp
6. Desi ghee- 5 tbsp + for binding
7. Sugar- 1 cup
8. Tikhur-Indian arrowroot (can be found at stores selling ayurvedic plant products)-1/2 cup

All measurements are approximate values. It is after all just a sweet and ingredients can be increased/decreased/added/deleted according to personal preference. My mother in law puts less sugar in my laddoos and a lot more in others', and the amount of ghee that goes in is way more than 5 tbsp mentioned above.

Read More on World Of Moms

Sunday, 22 March 2015

Watch What Kids Are Watching




Enjoying the show from front row!
Cartoon channels meant for kids are now changing their menus to include whole families. It sounds absurd since channels meant for kids barely fulfill the needs of their conventional audience. Should not they be doing justice to their names and paying more attention to their core job rather than expanding into vague areas?

It was a moment of truth when my hitherto unspoiled-by-TV-cartoons two-and-a-half year old son came home after playing with a neighbor's kid and demanded to watch Doraemon. I huffed with disappointment at this sudden turn of events. I had always carefully kept him away from such cartoons to serve multiple purposes. I had seen homes turned upside down by TV (cartoon) watching habits of kids, before having a child of my own, and had formed a sort of pledge in my mind to keep a check on it whenever such time came. On the suggestion of a friend, I used to show him BabyTV when my son showed interest in watching TV. Initially his TV viewing duration was small, but it grew bigger with the baby.

As I tried my best to decrease this time, in order to keep it healthy and refreshing, somehow he found out that there were more appealing, louder and naughtier cartoon characters than his usual tame, nursery-rhyme-singing, A-B-C chanting, obedient characters from BabyTV. Just the other day, I saw my husband's cartoon lover cousin standing in front of TV, surfing through the cartoon channels, and as he stopped at a certain channel for a few minutes, I was flabbergasted after hearing the cartoon characters talk to each other in Bollywood actors' voices.

Obviously, it was dubbed in Hindi, using voices from mimicry artists. But it was definitely not meant for kids. It sounded weird and almost profane, something that I would not want my kid to watch at this highly impressionable age, especially after him proving his parroting skills of the highest degree. He not only repeats what he hears verbatim, he can also recall it with miraculous precision weeks later. I know deep within that what sounds cute now might be very undesirable in future. Speaking like an actor, using heavy vocabulary, being rude and irreverent to everyone around and sounding way older than their innocent childhood years are some of the characteristics that I routinely find in kids these days and this premature departure of childhood just breaks my heart.


Read more on World Of Moms

Monday, 16 March 2015

To The New Horizons..

Every journey has a story behind it. Why else would anyone leave the warmth and comfort of their home behind to travel across the length and breadth of continents, braving the elements, getting scorched in sun and drenched in rain? Especially someone like me, who was cocooned in the love and affection of my parents  in a small town home would have never thought of a journey which would take me from North to South and then some more places. 

It was a time when none of my efforts of bringing my life on a desired path were giving any results. All I had were wasted opportunities and shattered dreams. It was as if darkness was attacking me from all directions and I could see nothing but gloom ahead. But I was not ready to give up. I had to get out of that place and chase my dreams. I was not born to be dominated by the smallness of social boundaries drawn for girls, I was born to break them and find new horizons for myself, so I thought. The life that several other small town girls had was not meant for me. And I never ever thought any different from this.

There was a time when I could see girls younger than me getting married and having children, going about their lives in a run-of-the-mill fashion. Friendly neighborhood uncles and aunts would keep talking to my parents in hushed voices, while I tried to ignore them. I knew in my heart of hearts that that kind of life was never going to be my life. Thankfully, my parents never tried to decide for me and heard me out.

The next step was to change lanes and press the accelerator hard. I took the bold decision of moving to Delhi for higher studies and make an altogether different career than what I had originally thought. While my mother cried her eyes out and my father was worried sick, they still supported my choice. Delhi has not been in the news for all the right reasons, and especially for a lonely girl from a small town and an even smaller exposure to the ways of the world, it was like trying to conquer Mount Everest. 

After my first couple of journeys when my father accompanied me forth and back from Delhi during holidays, I insisted that I travel alone, as I could not bear the thought of troubling my parents, and I knew travelling was a huge source of anxiety for my father. After that, as if I had grown a pair of wings. I completed my management course and got placed in a reputed IT company in Hyderabad. I flew to Hyderabad with my parents and joined my company, and gained the reputation of a lighthouse in my small town circle.

As for those uncles and aunts, they are making their girls study professional courses and have ditched the plans of getting them married soon after their high school.
   
Written as a post for the prompt 'start a new life' for housing