Jage hai

jage hain der tak, hamen kuchh der sone do ..... thodee see rat aur hai, subah toh hone do .... aadhe adhure khwab jo pure naa ho sake .. !! ek bar phir se nind me woh khwab bone do

Lyrics are short and few. But encased wonderfully in a stupendous song by AR Rahman. It seems to have signature AR rahman music as in some of his other songs like recent behne de or ranjha ..
The song begins with low notes of the song sung by K. S. Chithra, slowly and slowly gaining momentum…just like a symphony…mostly of classical orchestra…a pause again and AR Rahman starts. A voice bare whisper and suddenly raising his voice to the music…music of classical orchestra kind…minimum but yet creating a dramatic effect.
A wish for wishful dreaming or wish fulfillment dream. Dreams that maybe unachievable in real life, a possibility of realizing those dreams in dreams. Those half dreams. Those unattainable or half realized dreams. Which can just be fulfilled in dreams. A wishful thinking of a sleep of few moments to realize that yet unrealized dream of using that small gap before waking up to the reality. A moment’s gap to actualize a seemingly figment of imagination. A yearning to make the best of the sleep an attempt to fulfill otherwise impossible dream…before the actual reality takes over. A song not sad but neutrally evoking the temptation, the lusciousness of warm bed and have that last “jhapki” Truly one of the masterpieces.

Shauk hai...a lovely song of life

I had heard this song you can say real long long ago…when I saw guru (abhisheikh bacchan –aishwarya starrer). I liked almost all songs of the movie. Jage hai hum, maiya maiya, barso re and tere bina. Music given by none other than The AR Rehman and lyrics by Gulzar. What can one expect J as you very well know by now how partial I am to such music. I end up liking even the surprise songs. I especially liked jage hai and shauk hai. I will speak about Jage hai later.

My current obsession is “shauk hai”. I am unable to get my hands on the track yet. This was the song I heard whenever Vidya Balan and Madhavan were together in the scenes of the movie. Unfortunately not available in the cassette or cd. And I end up listening on the net. This track is nice! The song is about the desires of a person who is counting her days and who requires someone’s help for everything. The feeling of breaking out and desire to attain the almost impossible aspirations is aptly expressed in the lyrics. Not depressing one self and feeling of optimism. It is essentially meant to bring out that “longing” feel, but without the sadness. ARR captures this mood perfectly in the song, with Gulzar’s lyrics adding to the beauty. The piano chords running throughout the song, add to the simple but elegant beauty of the song. The highs and lows of the song are justified by Sowmya’s voice. Here are the lyrics:

Raat ka shauk hai
Raat ki saundhi si khamoshi ka
Shauk hai
Subha ki roshni
Bezubaan subho ki aur gungunati
Roshni ka Shauk hai, ho shauk hai
San sani anwlon ka
Ke ishq ke banwlon ka
San sani anwle
Ke ishq ke banwle
Barf se khelte badolon ka
Shauk hai
Kaash ye zindagi Khel hi khel mein kho gayi hoti
Raat ka shauk hai
Neend ki goliyon ka
Khwab ke loriyon ka
Neend ki goliyan
Khwab ke loriyan
Bezubaan aus ki boliyon ka
Shauk hai
Kaash ye zindagi binkahe binsune so gayi hoti
Subha ki roshni
Bezubaan subho ki aur gungunati
Roshni ka Shauk hai, ho shauk hai

Truely fantastic..

Some of my favorite sidey songs

My close friends and family including my telepathy (read my AAI) and my better (?) half know my obsessions in life. No they don’t include shopping and clothes and makeup and jewelry. But they include better options according to me. Books, music and food. In same order but just that books and music have equal ranking. A good book stirs me in same way as a lovely song. It takes my better(?) or 10 people to take me away from a book exhibition.Food is a different story. Food keeps me from getting hungry and cheese makes me have it then and there mentally. Some day I would love to learn to make one or two kinds of cheeses. Feta anyone?
As usual I flitted. And it was only after I read the title; I realized that I have to write about my favorite sidey songs. These songs seem to perk me to the gills. And hearing them somehow rejuvenates my at times overworked spirit. (with feet tapping,and head "rotating in 180 degree angle")
I don’t know if you have heard them or no, but I would definitely recommend you to hear them once. Maybe they will hook you or you may forget…but for me…they are fantastic.

“Maan ko ati bhaave” from London dreams
“Volume kam kar” from Housefull
“Maan lafanga” and “Dhatad Dhatad” from Dhatad I mean “Lafangey Parindey”
“Dil dance mare” from Tashan
“Tha Kar Ke” from Golmaal returns
“Tum age peeche” from Golmaal
“Dhan ta dan” from Kaminey
“Namak ” from Omkara
“Marjaani” from Billu
“Ab to forever” Ta Ra Rum Pum
“I hate love storys” from I hate luv storys
“Munni” from Dabanng
“Ticket to hollywood” from Jhoom barabar jhoom
“Bachna eye hasinoon” from Bachna eye hasinoon
“Tose Pyaar Kare Hai”and “love me love me” from Wanted
“Prem Ki Naaiyyaan” from Ajab prem ki ghajab kahani
“ghajab” from aa dekhe zara
“blue” from Blue
“Ibn-E-Batuta” from Ishquiya
“Khwab Dekhe” from Race
‘Bhootni Ke’ from Sing is king
“dil mein baji guitar” and”jai jai money” from apna sapna money money
“jhalak dikh la ja”
“signal” from bhagambhag
“Ai Meri Zohrajabeen” from phir herapheri

The list will soon follow with some more like “ta thai ya ta thai ya ooo” , “tohfa tohfa tohfa” and “dhoop mein nikla na karo” the vividhbharti songs according to me.

Khwab jo

OK ..blame it on my current free status or that music never seems to stop elating me…be it “tu jaane na” or “love mera hit hit”. This is one of those songs that I have fleetingly heard in television promos and on radio when “London dreams” was released. I never saw the movie and somehow the song left my memory. But today somehow this song came into the mind when I thought of having “maan ko ati bhave”. About this song late. So this song held my attention and soon downloaded it came in my current “now playing” list . it is sung by none other than RFAK and Shankar mahadevan ( my another favourite on whom I never seem have never written)
A bit of guitar strumming and a low voice by Shankar mahadevan and then RFAK, the song suddenly explodes with the chorus of “Khwaab Ko Raag De, Nind Ko Aag De” again down like a wave and a chorus that explodes with two both equally talented voices. Punches of RFAK’s “taan”. Minimal music, mostly of pulses of drums and strums of my favourite instrument guitar (electric version)
The song’s deeper meaning is enhanced with two mature voices. A dream which makes you loose sleep, the one that rouses you in the morning is the real dream. It is that dream which can make you get up in early sleepy winter morning, the warmth of well slept bed and cuddly blanket.
Such a dream should never be abandoned, as this is the dream that makes you, a double try is required to try to make this and such dream a reality. Yes definitely. Its just necessary to nurture such a dream, mould it ,fill colors and try to make it a reality a liveable reality.

Jo Tujhe Jagaaye, Nindein Teri Udaaye Khwaab Hai Sachcha Wahi Nindon Mein Jo Aaye Jise To Bhul Jaaye Khawab Woh Sachcha Nahi Khwaab Ko Raag De, Nind Ko Aag De Angaaron Ko Jagaaye, Koyalo Sa Jo Gaaye, Khwaab Hai Sachcha Wohi Leharein Jo Uthaaye -2 Paaniyo Ko Hilaaye, Khwaab Hai Sachcha Wohi Khwaab Ko Raag De, Nind Ko Aag De Manjilon Pe Tyuahaar Hai, Lekin Woh Haar Hai Kya Khusi Apano Ke BinHai Adhuri Har Jeet Bhi, Sargam Sangeet Bhi Adhura Hai Apano Ke Bin Khaabon Ke Baadal Chhaane Do LekinRishton Ki Lau Ko Bachaake BarasanaKehati Hai Hawaayein Chum Le Gagan KoPankho Ko Khol Tu Chhod Na Tarasna Khwaab Ko Raag De, Nind Ko Aag De Khwaab Ko Raag De, Nind Ko Aag De Khwaab Ko Khaab Ko Raag De, Nind Ko Aag De, Aag DeNo

one will agree more

“Break ke pehle pump it baad break ke baad pump it up”

OK now you will wonder,what made me choose this song. The same ways as I like “ticket to hollywood” ,“dil dance mare” ,“munni” “prem ki naiya” , “tose pyar karke”, “Man Ko Ati Bhavey Saiyaan” and other such maybe sidey songs. Not much to say about this song which is mostly music. It starts with keyboard music…a mix of electric guitar drums, dholaks (wow) and then “pump it up” foot tapping and neck jerking, lip syncing with “na-na -na” definitely worth hearing after word heavy songs of you know who J definitely helps coming out of word heavy songs and preparing to go back to them…should I call this song an interval song or break song? Definitely “tu jaane na” starting after this the playlist gets most appreciation rather than when heard normally :)

Immediate measures.

An extremely famished stomach…long time since lunch…a cold fridge and one cold sweet wibs bun. Some shredded cabbage, cold cheese, mustard sauce sweet chilly sauce and horseradish. Varied proportions and mixing. No knife using just using bare hands…cabbage looking like a girl about to get married, blame it on the yellow of the mustard and vermillion of chilly sauce…horseradish decided to hide its sting. Cheese clung like partner in crime. No bun buttering, just roughly splitting open and spreading the mix, and then having a few bites…till you realize you need to photograph this treat

All by my self

The feeling of loneliness, the feeling of hearing “number you are calling is busy” or an answering machine. When TV programmes hold no value and you just need some one with whom you can just talk. All and everyone is busy.
Wondering how life would be if you miss or loose or never find a loved one, with whom you can spend your life. After a while everyone, including the bestest (wrong English…but took author’s liberty to make changes) of friends and family members are busy. A book holds no interest and music fails to enthrall you, especially if you have no one to appreciate that with you. Or even a company of some one around you. You are not sad, you are not weepy, you just need some one, some company.
The song starts with crooning of celine dion, almost whisper, and pain evident from the start. Just a bit addition of music, like rich garnish make that piano…a high timbre of “all by my self don’t wanna be”. The music adds on. Pauses punched with lovely piano music and chorus mostly supported with drum beats and piano. Just then piano starts a different tune, and then a full fledged voice of a feat which only celine dion can accomplish. It brings a wave of emotions, wave after wave. Of pleasure of pain of complete music and a voice so strong…absolutely gorgeous…
The song ends with a lovely roundup and soft music of another favorite of mine “hello” by Lionel Ritchie.

Recent hearing

Being free after a real hectic pre UAT testing, we had some real free time in our hand. As you very well know my obsession with google, wikepedia and songs, I hunted for some real lyrics; this time not for RFAK or all time favorite Kishore Kumar, but something in English. And I came across some sites from where I could download songs too; apparently the site was not banned (yet) in the company. I got hold of some songs which now seemed just too old, like Shania twain’s you are still the one, Natalie imbrugulia’s torn, celine dion’s “I drove all night”, Toni Braxton’s “how could an angel break my heart” and “unbreak my heart”, Britney spear’s “slave for you” and of course most of songs from Mariah Carrey’s “daydream” the well worn cassette of which is still at my mom’s home. These songs didn’t cease to evoke the memories of the time at which I used to hear the songs, especially in my college days…I however failed to get “too many walls” by Cathy Dennis , hope to get this one soon. This has been an all time favourite …will try cooltoad from home now (no success unfortunately)…cross fingers, hope to get this song soon

Tu na jaane aas pass hai (definitely)khuda

The path seems to perpetually lost, there is no confusion and you would like to be perpetually in drunken numbing stupor. Till you just cant think of anything, cant sense the sadness. You try to rub off whatever destiny seems to have written on the forehead. Pain, so much inside, seems to be oozing out from the eyes, from the very being…wondering how much you can handle, with feet bucking under the weight of pain and loss. You just feel like running away, but seems feet have leaden and cold and mind numb…the night and dark just never seems to get over. Just when one pain has dulled, there is infliction of something deeper, more gruesome. Friends seem to leave and near ones out of sight. You are with yourself and only you can understand how you are feeling. Words are insufficient and “I understand” like sympathetic words actually annoy you. In the darkest moments, life is bleak and the faith in the supreme best shakes to the fullest. But something less nasty happens and you revive your faith in him. It happens. When you are there some where, you look at your hand and try and wipe away those lines which seem to have made your future…at times tearfully looking at them, trying to decipher like a map to faraway place. Wondering if you can see some way out the way those lines curl…but that rarely happens. And Mr. God seems to be fulfilling our wishes when we least expect or when we have already lost interest in them.
When you are at the lowest. This song seems to lift the spirits…yes. That yes there is indeed end to the seemingly status quo. The pain and hurt.The song starts with miniscule strumming of acoustic guitar (?) starts a bit with more music and starts with high pitch RFAK voice (my fav) that startles the ear. “tu na jane aas paas khuda” mixes with some more other music, with drums and fiery notes of guitar…blending with ustaad’s voice…the pauses are beautifully filled with electric guitar’s notes…classical voice blending lovely with western influenced music…the crumbs of “pa de ni” of ustaad’s signature style…the song and music mellows down with stanzas and reaches the peak and high pitch with the chorus…it reaches its crescendo and slowly reaches down…like wave…up and down balanced very well…the rythmatic drum beats like whip lashes…punctuating the chorus..leaving you optimistic in the end…”tu na jaane aas paas hai khuda”

The day after

It was “anant chaturdashi” or ganesh visarjan. When finally lord Ganesh bid us bye. A sweet and sour memory. When he came we danced with joy, when he left we danced…with tears in eyes and urging him with “pudhchya varshi lavkar ya (come early next time)”. The day after seem to be reflected with empty pandals and stands for directing visrajan. Stale flowers strewn, gulal /pink color and fire cracker waste covered the ground. Boards of political leaders wishing “happy ganesh chaturthi” standing lone and apart. It surely brings a lump in throat and emptiness in heart, and in mind still saying “pudhchya varshi lavkar ya”

Ode to the dreams

Thousands of dreams in the eyes, all flying high, no contact with ground, they just fly high
Such a short life and so many dreams, some crash violently, some are compromised.
But dreams still exist, at times blinding the eyes, flying high, loosing contact with life. Hope sinks but dreams still exist, like spring they just bounce back, one drop of life and they just pop back…fresh and still alive, strong and still kicking
To stop dreaming is impossible; to live dream is a dream,
Dreams that start well turn out to be nightmares, burning the whole self with their hopelessness.
But still they are dreams. Hopes though shattered, eyes still see dreams in the minds eye where everything is perfect as wish has in it.
Even if reality pricks are nasty and in deathly black and white, dreams still are all Technicolor, pulsating, full of life.


This poem is dedicated to all dreams. Some hopeless yet hoping to be fulfilled, some fulfilled and later darkened by reality, some still colorful and rosy, some crashed, some in budding state. Yours and mine. Dreams, only where we can live complete, the only thing that keeps us alive.

A small memory

After acsending the foot bridge and seeing that the signs of the childhood lingered still on the old road home,feet went in direction of a small group of vendors selling vegetables. the vegetable in search (snake gourd or padval in marathi) otherwise easily available failed to make appearence on the day. eyes lingered towards a small bakery. Memories floated to times when bread and tooty fruity toasts were brought on sunday evenings usually from that bakery . their smokey blackish white chimmneys still visible while decscending the bridge, visible inspite of skyscrapers around now dimmed their appearence. Almost on impuse feet caught the small rough route. The bakery still had same look and small wood and glass display counters and cupboards filled with ladi pavs, kadak pavs, toasts and loaves. Time seem to have been still, no modernization, With same name plates of people who held some kind of business or resided there...never moved out..as years back when the mind still lingered on dolls and school and homework. Two kadak pavs still cost 4 rs only when a baugette (french kadak pav) at a supermarket had crossed its 30s.

Making a small talk with the bakery person who seemed to be in disbelief to see a girl (or lady shall I say???) clad in jeans taking kadak pav of all things. Clutching the paper wrapper of two pavs, the feet had already found themselves back to same ole route home which was ofcourse drenched by rain water. at home,a pav sliced open to fill tangy amul cheese, another left for mom dearest for afternoon snack with fish curry...the crumby cool bites of kadak pav were neither "chang-chang" chewing gum type which often happens to kadak pavs, nor were they jaw breaking and very crumbly. The cheese pav finished in four rapid bites with a gingerry tea...a snack so long lost evoked the lost memories when thoughts were still in schools and dolls and facts of life had not tampered their innocence.

The ½ plate pani puri

It was long dusk after a hectic day of ganesh chaturthi…but our work list didn’t cease to exist, we had to now go in one of the mandirs to collect some Prasad. Due to rickshaw and bus unavailability and sudden “need” for mamra my sister had developed, my best friend (none other than my mother) and I dragged our weary feet back home, since the “bhatti” where we would get “mudhi or mamra”. We approached the place and my mother asked if I would like to have anything. “maybe pani puri…but only if you are having” she seemed to think for some time.. “ but we have to have food at home” she said as an afterthought. “maybe we can have only one plate” I countered, she seem to agree. And so we stood with a teeny steel plate in front of the pani puriwala and starting gorging in the sweet+spicy parcels of delight. Correctly distributed between us, the 6 pooris werr gone within no time and punched later with batata puri neutralizer, and we trudged back home, just in time for some warm reheated food , our feet gathered speed maybe by the spiky water of pani puri???

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

This was one of the poems that are always close to my heart. All of us (and in my case daily) see something mesmerizing or hear something rocking or read something that makes us forget where we are or what we are after. But as usual the ground reality comes ahead of all this and we have to leave our idyllic tryst with something that leaves us totally spellbound just to go back to the daily blinding grind of work. I am hearing an out of the world song and I need to switch off Mp3 since office has come or I am reading something but need to sleep for next day early start to office …somehow it explains what all of us go through day in and day out, of journey flitting through soft paradise of dreams and imagination and hard earth of facts and reality…the process of coming to reality is painful and hurting but what can do…its always “…but I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep”
This is the reason this poem is really close to my heart.

My iftaar

On last Saturday,I had been to my mother’s place. In another words pure bliss. After getting married, in a different region and language, had its own advantages. Especially getting married to the person you can spend your life with. But it also meant leaving one of the other loves, that was food. I missed my mother’s food more then, now that I had very less access to it. Not that I couldn’t cook, but my better(?) half didn’t like curries much , something that I found absolutely lip smacking. I couldn’t blame him, since he didn’t hail from the costal areas. So being to my mother’s place gave me more access to such fare and I started appreciating even humblest fare. Lunch was a simple fare of tender fenugreek leaves stir fry with lots of fresh coconut and onions, along with “valachi amti” or dried broad beans in coconut based curry which got its unique taste of goa by use of triphala, rice and some fritters. I had my fill. J what I had later was why I called it my iftaar.
As you verywell know iftaar refers to the evening meal when Muslims break their fast during the Islamic month of Ramadan. Iftar is one of the religious observances of Ramadan. Andheri being a hindu-mohmedian dominated area, there are some shops which are especially famous for their iftaar items. Be it malpua ( fritters or pancakes served as a dessert or a snack in the Indian subcontinent) or sweets like ras malai ,falooda or my favourite “phirni”(a kind of kheer set to almost custard consistency in mud/terracotta dishes) and chana batata.
After our evening shopping, I longingly looked in the makeshift lane that sells goodies for iftaar. My mother sensing my longing mutely took me to FIRDAUS (a mohmeddian sweet shop specializing in phirni) and bought for me a mawa phirni and later on my pleading chana batata. Wow, a satisfying evening snack was made. the phirni was gooey and creamy and milky as it should be, just the right sweetness the mawaish (milk) smell still etched in my memory. The chana batata was outstanding too. With lemony tartness and garlicky-gingerly infusion in coriander dressed chana and batata (potato/alu) cooked to right perfection.
This iftaar still holds my memory, and I will definitely try to goad my mother to let me have another taste of the phirni and chana. Wale cum salam

(PS: check the pic above. I hope the pic does justice to the imagination of how the phirni and chana batata must have been…before it reached my stomach)

Let the ranjha behne de

OK, now this is a bit late for me to appreciate these two songs. Ranjha ranjha and behne de from Raavan.
About:
I somehow liked the rawness of rekha bharadwaj in this Ranjha ranjha …somehow dominating the song (sorry Javed ali). Even in this rawness there are layers of songs that seem to hypnotize you and take to greater hights in the song, lovely psychedelic circles.. I have never liked AR reheman’s music much. No offence here. But I always found him giving a bit repetitive music…he is good, no doubt about it. But you can almost understand that its him who has given the music. A signature kind of music. Most singer’s voice seem to drown their voice in the music, with a few exceptions of course, like Asha Bhosle, SP bal subramanyam and now Rekha bharadwaj…this time however I found AR Rehman’s music more subtle…like complementing the background very well at the same time losing a bit of its repeatitiveness, using some sudden different piece somewhere…leaving you for jolly surprises. And that’s also what I experienced when I heard behne de…is the singer continuously singing… “behne de bhene de …behne de gharghor ghata…”…where ranjha ranjha hypnotizes you, behne de takes music and voice to greater heights…I don’t know about you, but the feeling of virtual swimming in cool waters …such kind of feeling comes over when you hear this song…the waters of music, lyrics and voice…touching to the core…with some boom and bong…punching the commas in music at regular intervals. Good the chorus is not much as it would have lost the effect one has…the singing continues in one string continiously…and where there are pauses…there are pieces of music …with not many instruments…with that bong still going on in between…and with sudden different but accordant bits of music…it surely makes a piece of song great to hear till the cassette goes kaput J

Two things that I have always liked about the festivals.

Maybe you will call me crazy. But I love festive crowds. Not shopping ones mind you. But two instances I love. One is when stalls are set up to sell iftaar ware (foods of all kinds) I love just seeing the food and the way its arranged, the smells wafting giving the guarantee of the taste , almost seducing you to try something…just a bite of malpua or a “glup” silkiness of phirni, the chatka of chana batata or warm roasted smell of kebabs. I love always traveling by such lanes,as the smells pay havoc in my nose, almost grapping me something to stop the growling stomach.
Another one is “strand of stars or globs of light” in the air. That’s what festival of lights mean to me. Many makeshift stalls open at that time. Shops having extended thelas selling dried fruits and nuts, mithais and biscuits all in gift hampers, ready parceled to the near and dear ones. What entices me are those stalls that have lamps for sale in diwali. You must surely be knowing those, chinese lantens kind, in stars and hexagonal shapes, in paper and plastic, all colourful, with lusty tails that sway to the wind or those proud without them, with cutwork and designs and paints and some in just plain kite paper with a bit of gold band for shimmer, but which are nevertheless lovely. Whereas in Christmas they are mainly stars, in diwali they are in all shapes and sizes, the typical ones and atypical ones. They look good at the day time, one blow of wind and they smile. What entices me is after dark glow they give individually with 0 watt bulbs in them. They make the whole lane come alive and neon lights of municipality fade out their usual guiding light. I hope to catch a photo of them this diwali, to me they are just fantasy land come alive…

Bahara and tum jo aye by Rahat fateh ali khan.

These were the two songs which didn’t completely hold my attention or didn’t please much as much as I wanted to one of them had Rahat fateh ali khan in duet. Somewhere something was lacking. But then just hunting through the virtual web,I came across two other versions of these songs, both sung entirely by RFAK.
I have seemed to like RFAK songs almost everytime. Be it “mann lagan” from paap or “tujhe dekh dekh” from kalyug. He is one of the singers who actually know how to “weave” a song. His songs start with something as simple as harmonium or sarod tunes or some such simple tone, attimes speckling in between the song to tenderize the hollow pauses in the songs.. Innocently enough the maestro’s singing begins. A bit of “harkatein” in between, at times flat , at times high pitched. Weaving a story maybe? Each word clearly sung, each word clearly understood. Then the weaving ends and song reaches its ultimate crescendo.. sudden but not abrupt…somehow the cues in between indicating that songs ending slowly…spiraling into miniscule pleasures…Simple song, minus many instruments…this is the way a song is enjoyed. Very gazalishque but definitely lovely.
It manages to ring mentally in the head long time after the song ends and earphones are kept back to the place. You feel that you are hearing a lovely gazal, not something that depresses you in the end but pleases you, even if it maybe sad one…Unfortunately the song bahara is used as chill version, doesnot appear in movie, nor tum jo aye which is used as reprise (used in between situations as background). A waste, though situation wise its appropriate…I am tuned in to these two songs nevertheless

Something for you

It is no secret that I love to see, read and explore about food. Yes looking at me no one can guess that I like food in the first place. But yes I do. Especially anything with cheese or olives on. Recently I came across some such articles which may not include one of my favorites (eggs to an absolute vegetarian?) but still the way of writing article itself invoked me to read more. I always like reading about how a dish got invented, its historical connotations.
This started with weekly food columns on food and an end recepie in specials called lok rang of loksatta. That had me fixated. Later having a monthly subscription of (now defunct) food magazine for a year made me almost obsessed with food and food related articles. I liked collecting articles on food and food related items, reading on origin of a particular food. And one fine day if I do a C1 and C2 (last most levels of alliance francaise de Bombay) it will be for “gastronomie” theme. I collect books, and recipes and read lots of blogs and if I tune in to TV its either “chota bheem” on pogo or discovery travel and living. Out of them I always like Rachael allen “Bake” and Kylie kwong “my china” and “simply magic” in my better(?) half’s language “kilie koong”, “globe guide” and some such shows.
I have taken a lot of “trash” from Jamshedpur to Mumbai in form of “graphiti” a complimentary booklet in “the telegraph” which we dutifully kept safely by my MIL (mom in law) for me. In that there is a food section by rahul verma, that I read during my stay in Jamshedpur. Now I have an online copy of it.
I have ordered books like “Climbing The Mango Trees” by Madhur Jaffrey and “the beach boy” by Ardeshir irani. While Madhur jaffery is known world wide for her culinary talents, adreshir irani’s book review had come in the “food magazine” , both books are now in my possession.
This interest never ceases and this is what prompted me to send two links of some good food related articles recently read in times of India. Do read it when and if you have time

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/life-style/food/food-reviews/Under-the-golden-yolk-/articleshow/5491613.cms
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/life-style/food/drinks-corner/On-a-tea-break-happily/articleshow/5999170.cms

New obsession on “nain parinde” from Lafange parinde

Nain parindey, pagle do nain
Nain parindey, jaagein din raein
Nain parindey, pagle do nain
Nain parindey, jaagein din raein
Pankh jhatak yeh udh jayenge
Aasmaan mein kho jayenge
Maghroor bade, banjaare nain
Nain parindey, pagle do nain
Nain parindey baadal baadal
Khwaabon ke sitaare chug lenge
Hoo nain parindey chaand chura kar
Palkon se apni dhak lenge
Palak jhapakte udh jayenge
Sapno ko apne ghar layenge
Mashoor bade, matwaale nain
Nain parindey, pagle do nain
Hoo nain parindey roshan roshan
Andhiaare saare dho denge
Hoo nain parindey chalke chalke
Palkon ko moond ke ro lenge
Palak jhapakte udh jayenge
Gumm ko bhula ke muskaayenge
Majboor nahi, sapniley nain
Nain parindey, pagle do nain
Nain parindey, pagle do nain
Nain parindey, jaagein din raein
Pankh jhatak yeh udh jayenge
Aasmaan mein kho jayenge
Maghroor bade, banjaare nain
Nain parindey, pagle do nain
Eyes described in lovely way, the way eyes change according to emotions, lovely lyrics, good but minimal music. The song starts with a piano piece played, the low music of piano stays till the end in the background. The pauses peppered with guitar pieces. It is definitely a welcome change from the otherwise loud music of today. A bit bending towards western music and singing, the song still evokes a lovely feeling and has overall a calming effect.
Absoluely Jhakaaaaaaas

Flitting trip to god’s and almost god’s abode.

A long time wish was finally granted. My aethist better (?) half and I decided to visit shirdi shanishingnapur. After work on Friday,after buying week’s grocery, a quick fix of dinner and off we went to catch a/c bus to shirdi. I slept like a log , mouth open and completely covered with a bedsheet like a deadbody, we reached shirdi at around 4ish in the morning. After a rapid fire of brush and wash for only 30 bucks per person we headed bleary eyed but fresh for sai baba darshan (me in black). It took time as there was a snake like queue, but which after some time went so fast as if possessed. We had baba’s darshan but for only 2 seconds L and we came out. After buying Prasad and giving offering for our loved ones, we wondered how to leave for shani shingnapur. Our prayers were heard when the cab we took, helped us to obtain vehicle to go to shani shingnapur. Luckily people were not filled in it as cattle. Lovely cool breeze started with the vehicle start and within no time my eyes drooped back to sleep. I opened by bleary eyes only when we almost reached shani shingnapur. The place is lovely developed from what I had seen it some years back. But the houses still didn’t have doors. It is said that due to fear of Lord Shani, none of the structures, be it dwelling houses, huts, shops etc. situated within one kilometer radius of this Lord Shani temple, have neither doors and locks. No thievery or burglary ever occurred here in this hamlet called Shani Shingnapur. Some who have tried to steal have died vomitting blood within minutes of their act and before they could cross the boundary. Many others are said have received varied punishments such as long sickness, mental imbalance etc. It is to be seen to believe that even post office has no door, not to speak of locks. Lovely isnt it. Since it was Saturday (the day of lord shani according to hindu texts), the place was lively and full of worship atmosphere. Ladies not allowed L but my aethist better (?) half performed the tailabhiskam on my behalf, compltely sushurbhuta (freshened up) with cold water doused and a wet dhoti. A million thankyous would not be enough for u my better half. The syavambhu idol is located in open where men throng to worship shani manaraj with sesame oil, black cloth and some such pooja samagri (now did you understand why I was in black???) I finished a bit of the stotra in front of the idol..(4 times only L) before my better half joined me and we headed back to car. There were beggers who somehow tried to cash in lord shani’s abode as a medium to gain more and more alms and curse if not given LL. There were people in the car who whined on it and I sometimes wondered that why they have come to the place.. there was a couple in the car who wanted to have breakfast even if remaining people are sitting in car waiting to go,…despite of all such minor irritants…the experience was good since my wish to be there was finally culminated..We reached back to shirdi at 11.45 AM and after a quick (and avoidable since I had southindian thali…my better (?) half had punjabi thali and was very happy with it ) thali lunch at an udipi restaurant at shirdi we boarded the 12.30 PM bus back to mumbai, which after a long and long circling finally managed to get enough passengers and ultimately let at 1.30 PM. (Atleast I could have finished my lunch properlyL) The only best part was that I finished reciting the remaining stotra till that time J. Zzg n zzg we saw the rain lush green hills and valleys and black snaking roads from top, some where I saw a lovely mountain completely peakless, what with the grey clouds circling it making the view of the beak impossible.then we saw the fog point where the fog was lovely. We snacked on chikkis and pedhas, and napped a lot before we reached back to wet mumbai, dinnering (horrific english) in woodland retreat (my fave) and headed back home. Needless to say I slept content and peaceful that day, not only due to sheer exertion but also that a wish finally made true.
Nilanjana samabhasam raviputram yamagrajam chaya martanda sambhutam tam namami shaishcharam Om Neelambharaya vidhmahe Soorya Putraya dhimahi tanno sauri prachodayath

My experiments with different cooking.

I have always been experimental . I have tried something of my own. Especially when I used to cook only for my own. But somewhere along the way, cooking for my (?) better half I stopped being one. He is tolerant of my experiments but after nearly 3 years of marriage I have realized that he is happier with dal rice for dinner rather than a weird salad or sandwich. And then why torture him with one? Recently I have come across many food blogs , some Indian some foreign. Sweets and tarts etc will be tried when we have our own home and I can use the microwave, till that time it will be something made on tava or boiled. Currently my list has following items to try…hummus (boiled chickpeas are already freezing) tahini sauce (sesame seed sauce.. this weekend sureshot), pita bread (lets see when can I get yeast), falafel (maybe this weekend) and couscous (after I get vari)
I tried almond butter after I noticed that almonds try as much as I can I cant munch one or two every day. And before they got rancid its better that I use them. So I roasted them last to last Saturday (as roasting seems to give lovely smoky taste) and ground them on high speed with a tsp of oil and salt. The result is real tasty and I love to smear it on bun bread and just munch it up. Now that this experiement has gone successful I am becoming more and more gutsy to try out something more…
Hope so I can try the tahini and falafel with hummus this week…and get back with lovely results
About pita and couscous…lets see…delhi ab door hai

Getting saturated with “bin tere”

I heard this song for the first time when for a change I was seeing tv and some music channel showed promos of “I have luc stories.”. my better(?) half downloaded it from the net. He is a fanatic of new songs and dowloads the songs the moment they are out. This makes me easy to hear them as and when I want. Ofcouse in office, I download them with the grace of one one of my great friends Atlya and the website he has given seeing my craziness for songs. Enough of my rambling, back to bin tere. So I heard a bit of the song on TV, and it caught on. We downloaded it immediately at home and in office.
I liked it to core, with sunidhi chauhan and Shafqat Amanat Ali (remember lovely “mitwa” from KANK??) bringing real feel to the song. The song starts with guitar repetitive chords and begins with English lyrics. Frankly I can do without English lyrics but here they seem to create a lovely environment in the start, pepping in between and later ending.each paragraph ends with a part of English lyrics .foot tapping at the same time soulful with guitar for the time being I am fixed to bin tere till I find some other good song.
“Bin tere Bin tere Bin tere Lost n lonely Koi khalish hai Hawaon mein bin tere”
...m loving it

A chai poha with friends

6 up one missing
zzg and raining
out they headed to a wet tea tapri
six spoons and one plate of steaming hot poha awaited
six cups of 1/2 chais and guffaws and talks
the end was soon and time to leave
the rains already showed signs of returning

Sunday breakfast revisited

On last Sunday bleary eyed I headed to empty kitchen. My better (?) half was not awake. I wanted some tea but not yet in the mood. Eyes half open I went and stood for some time in the kitchen window. Seeing the Sunday unfolding in front of me in the kitchens of the homes in the buildings in my area. Whistles of cooker, sizzle of tadka, vessel washing, blare of TV giving some Sunday programme. These and such thoughts took me back to memory lane of Sunday breakfasts at my maiden home.
Aai is a great cook. I guess every person will say his or her mom is. But I am always critical about cooking so seeing someone like aai in the kitchen is a lovely treat. A systematic and strict person she and my sister (a messy cook) can never stay in same kitchen, esp. with aai’s “sovle ovle”. She is not a fanatic in this, but yes, she manages a bit of fasting and absolutely doesnot tolerate onion garlic hands on supplies like salt and chilly. Here am I again away from the topic.
I remember I used to wake up same way, bleary eyed, happy that school was not there and that Sunday has just started. I used to enter straight in the kitchen even at that time. Kitchen makes me feel at homeJ. Aai used be preparing some breakfast item. There were many that she used to prepare like idli and dosa (even on weekdays) but it was this item that she prepared leisurely on weekends and frankly I have not tasted anyone done better. And those were “matar” patties. Wafery thin, soft and fluffy potato cup made by hand the cooked fresh matar/peas in spices carefully filled and the patty deftly closed by fingers wetting in water, after dusting sparingly on fine “rava” or semolina, the patties were shallow fried in oil till they gained a chocolate brown crispy hue. The cover needed to be carefully made else it would spill its contents on the griddle in middle of frying (this patty always tasted gorgeous). There was always enough for our never ending appetite. I used to pry open the crispy cover and eat contents first, the covers always came last with bits of chilly garlic sauce if any (I hated and still hate the ubiquitous tomato sauce). Bread was never allowed to sandwich these tasty lovelies it was always patty fork/spoon and us…after having a mug of warming light tea we used to head to the television for a cartoon show. The taste however still lingers on.

Kadak pav and cheese maska

Dada or my dad rarely ventured out of home on Sunday morning. For him Sunday was sleep and TV and lovely succulent fish and more snooze. But once in a while when aai would not have made something substantial he would venture out and head to the local bakery. And his bounty basket was always rather overfull. There would be fafda (gujrati thin gram flour based deep fried crackers) batata vada (somehow I didn’t like it as it used to be full of coriander seeds), individual cubes of amul butter , cheese and kadak and brun pav. Both these pavs freshly baked would still be fresh and soft warm from the oven. The kadak pav would be ideal with its hard crust which would give innumerable small crumbs when one used knife. Light and soft from inside at the same time. While brun pav would be used for lunch, kadak pavs would be feasted at the breakfast time. The pavs would be sliced in between and liberally slathered with amul butter and slivers of amul cheesecub. Then it would be feasted in gusto along with cups of hot “chaha”. The crunch of the kadak pav still lingers and a wish comes hope…I wish there would have been rewind

Do not stand at my grave and weep - Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there.
I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow;
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain;
I am the gentle Autumn’s rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush.
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there;I did not die.
A poem that I always searched. just a few right words and I found it. I love the very simplicity of the poem.Of consoling the mournners.Of consoling one self that all is not over.That evenif corporally dead spirutually one lives on.This poem holds very similar to "euphoria"...their song 'mehfuz' sings of the same tone. stating "Tere honthon ke kisi kone mein Hansi ki tarah main mehfuz hoon ,Teri aankhon ke chipe dard mein Aansoo ki tarah main mehfuz hoon"A feeling of letting go a loved one, going on with life...knowing that that loved one is with you in some form or the other...a thing that brings you out of gloom and gives you some solance and some strength to forge ahead, all the lime the departed lost loved one somewhere in lovely memories,always smiling.

Addicted to music

My feelings of my favourite passtime ,second love music...food shares a close third

I seem to be addicted to music
Music wakes me up...perks me up like coffee
Music stays with me in my journey
Music is with me when I am busy
And music is there with me when I am snoozing
In evening when the weary self is heading home...music relaxes my soul
Making the bread and butter music spices up the dreaded task
At the night time music slowly lulls me to sleep.
Preparing me to face another rough day made sweet by music

My grandfather's clock

This song was frequently sung by us in our primary "music" classes. Our sir at the time, a bearded bespectacled silent fellow used his lovely hobner guitar for striking the right chords for this song.and all of us kiddos almost shouted the song…but it was fun. The rythmatic medium paced chords palyed wonderfully by a lovely guitar and the kiddos shouting their throats out with the song. Truly nostalgic…I thought of this song some days back and it brought back to me all the memories of the primary school, the subjects and thr strict rules but it also brought the pleasant memories and a classy song…I got the lyrics and the chords an instrumental version of the song and also understood that it was the song sung by Johnny cash. I am just waiting to see if I can download it…meanwhile I have to be happy with lyrics and instrumental version.
Reading the lyrics I felt that how a mundane thing a non living object stops living when its buddy dies..
My grandfather's clock
Was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half
Than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a pennyweight more.
It was bought on the morn
Of the day that he was born,
And was always his treasure and pride;
But it stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
CHORUS:
Ninety years without slumbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
His life seconds numbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
It stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
In watching its pendulum
Swing to and fro,
Many hours had he spent while a boy;
And in childhood and manhood
The clock seemed to know,
And to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four
When he entered at the door,
With a blooming and beautiful bride;
But it stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
CHORUS
My grandfather said
That of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he found;
For it wasted no time,
And had but one desire,
At the close of each week to be wound.
And it kept in its place,
Not a frown upon its face,
And its hand never hung by its side.
But it stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
CHORUS
It rang an alarm
In the dead of the night,
An alarm that for years had been dumb;
And we knew that his spirit
Was pluming for flight,
That his hour of departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time,
With a soft and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side.
But it stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.

Of rice and soup.

After visiting Korum mall and booking lovely leather shoes for my better (?) half we headed home. The bike took a different turn on the service road. And we stopped in front of “royal challenge” restaurant on service road, next to express highway. We always used to pass by this restaurant and wonder its quality. it looked lovely from with its sheer glass windows and bright yellow lights .I argued about McDonalds and its economical value. Better (?) half argued about going there for a long time and its too late (we had parked outside the restaurant) swallowing my arguments we headed in the restaurant. They showed us the basement. I wondered where we are heading. It was good. The ambiance was soft with ceiling having false greenery, its soft lights and surreal wildlife paintings. (One of which of lionesses felt almost human eye like to me). The restaurant was quiet minus soft cliché instrumental music of Kenny g. with a few customers enjoying food and drink.
We ordered for a hot and sour soup and tandoori gobhi. The service was medium. Not to fast hurrying to go and not too boringly slow. The hot and sour was subtle in taste with sharp taste of celery distinct. Silvers of mushrooms carrots and spring onions dotted the light brown steaming base. I felt almost criminal by contaminating the soup with anything so I had it JLT. The tandoori gobhi was nice, gobhi was a tad bitty (maybe undercooked) but the charcoal flavor of the tandoor and tangy marination flavor compensated for it. The main course was triple sichuan fried rice which compensated for rice and gravy. Lovely and subtle in taste. Not too much salt not too sour, the fried noodles used as garnish added crispy texture to every bite. The rice was cooked to perfection and fragrance that only basmati can carry away. Again taste of celery (no other herb folks? Celery brought in bulk from Crawford market hehe…that’s nasty me) dominated the flavor. But it was not overpowering (thank goodness) I minused the dessert but better (?) half wanted something and rabri found its way on the table. He liked the taste. I had a spoonful and had to restrain my self to having another one. Smooth creamy thick concoction speckled with almond and pistachio bits, not the piercing sweet but just hint of sweetness it was ambrosia. The bill was great too and budgeting and saving went down the drain for the time being but I felt that we spent right and the experience was good and as we headed back home, on bike in airy atmosphere, stomach and soul satiated thinking we wouldn’t mind to frequent this restaurant again

Cheese tasting opportunity

Gruyère/Beaufort /Comté, a Libran and unable to choose I thought of sending this either or list to my test manager who is currently in Paris for a week. Cheese and French cheese were always a fascination and passion for me. Now came the opportunity to taste real French cheese and my manager good enough to offer me to get some. I still remember when I asked him.. “Sir aap France se mere liye cheese layenge…” sort of busy with his laptop he said… “haan bol na kya cheez (hindi word for thing/object)” I corrected him.. “Array sir cheez nahi cheese”, tubelight sprang to life and he said… “ohh cheese…sure…just let me know which one and I will get it”. I told him to consult our French team and meanwhile I recherched on net to see which cheese can be properly carried through the airline journey and after searching I cam across 3 cheeses (hard in nature and not blue…blue cheese distinctly smells and my manager would have flung a smelly parcel at me). So I am going to send this either or list. Lets see what do I get in return hehehe… will keep posted

A friend’s party

We went to Moni’s for the third time. A restaurant very well appreciated and enjoyed. Six of us and a year old mischievous kiddo. A farewell party of a parting friend. Soups and mocktails and beer and cheeselings and peanuts and salads and starters and papads and jokes overflowed. Laughs and jokes and smiles. A relaxation on a Friday night. No work tomorrow and sleeping till late no one was in a hurry to be home at a particular time. Rice and dal and methi malai mutter (yikes) and lovely rotis and mutton biryani and gravy. A pan ended it all and we wound up for the night…outside it was lovely silence and calm and dark. A welcoming and lazy Saturday topped it all.

Heartfelt

Like today is the last day in our organization for people who want to quit with a notice period,I somehow felt today is the last day indeed to post my entries for may…lets see what june has in store for me

On hinduism

When I think of Hinduism. What comes in my mind? Its not a temple, its not prayers or mantras or idols . But I think of a way of life. Its the food that we have that is actually soothing the bodily and corporal form. The food for mind. We don’t have the constraint of going to temples or fixed prayer times or fixed day to go. Infact we have varied choices to make from. Following a god for something. Following different gods for the qualities they have. The vedas, the upanishids. Upavedas that give such a lot information on human life and natural medicine…a way of life definitely.. (the thoughts as and when they come I will keep updated)

Common sense not very common indeed.

I work in a lovely IT company full of “educated” people. Educated as in having a bachelor in engg. or masters in computer application. Where people like me…French translators actually get lost. Civic sense …I always believed came with education or did it? Or did it come with a sense of responsibility to the things around us or with more reading? I have seen in my office…water taps running and ladies makeuping. Not having a courtesy to closing the taps and saving the priceless water. Or lights in rest rooms on even if no one using them…gals and guys leave them on. Do we do the same thing at home? I wonder. The tissues taken in handful and wasted for wiping a pair of hands? Isn’t one tissue more than enough? Or are our hands that huge? That handful of tissues is not enough? Or maybe if we carry our own handkerchiefs? Will we learn only by lack of it? Will we learn only when we are told to pay for it? If a thing free really holds no value and only when it is taxed does it increase in worth? I remember we had free bus service once upon a time. Later we started to pay for it. At such time there was such a hue and cry in the people as they have to pay for the bus etc etc. but if company would have made them pay right from the start, the amount deducted from source then maybe they wouldn’t have a problem.
I have known scarcity of water by staying in such a place where water cut is a daily affair in summers. I have known the importance of drinking water when walked in scorching sun without water. But do we need to know every thing just by experience? Can’t we just learn? It is only because we are privileged to have water in the taps that we forget the people who have to walk for miles to get some. It is because that on switching on the button that the fan works the AC is on that we forget people in dim light of the lamp and no air around. It is this that is disturbing abundance of free nature make people careless. What I just do is pray …and hope that at some point these so called educated people are enlightened with some common sense which is not very common and just work a bit from their end to make earth a better place to live.

A treat of pijja and nimbu pani.:P

Last week a chance encounter made me see street side pizza stall near the classes. A person like me never looses an opportunity of something just so vaguely authentic but something filling, authentic and main, real tasty. And so this week we had this finally. Small palm size pizza bases. Adorned with carrot onion and cabbage…my better (?) half was wondering about the taste. The person crisped the pizza with liquid butter and later turned it up side down to cook. Now even I was wondering if it’s the right thing that I decided to taste. After browning a bit of the cabbage he turned it right side up and added grated amul cheese.I took the first bite. It was not ambrosia etc.But truly lovely. The pizza base was fresh non bready and lightly toasted. The cabbage just cooked a bit of bite in it. The cheese sublime cheddar.all that coupled with warmth of the tawa made pizza. I liked it actually. The taste was simple and good. It was definitely stringy mozerella bready pizza, that we get in so called authentic outlets nor poor version of them which we get in udipi restaurants. But definitely something much more humble and good quality wise and definitely tasty.needless to say I took one more parcl to eat it later while watching dance India dance. Little way ahead we had the most cooling and fresh nimbu pani that soothed the very self. Something which many soft drinks fail to do. And this treat together marked a lovely end to a Saturday and Sunday was still far behind

Bowl of blood? Nopes its beetroot soup

The first impression of this bowl is its blood or something highly weird. Nopes it was plain soup of boiled beet and potato laced with left over tomato soup from the packet. The color looked marvelous. And hence the itch to click. Look at the contrast of cashewnuts adorning the soup…totally sidey :P

A trip to phanta caves

Our second wedding anniversary came very stealthily. And since it came on a weekday we had no option of going out of town. It was ages convincing my better (?) half to go to elephanta caves, something I had seen when I was a kid and didn’t remember an ounce of it. so my better (?) half after a lot of research decided to tag along on our second wedding anniversary reaching VT station by lunch time our thirsty selves satiated by sugarcane juice we headed to one of the OKaish restaurants. But food there was outstanding. A typical udpi thaldi, left us nicely satiated and after having the vida/paan we took taxi and headed to gateway to catch the ferry to the small island called gharpuri. Seeing lovely ships and steamers we finally reached the port, reaching the shore by trapezing between the boats. We took a mini train which reached us to the bottom of the caves. Stalls selling food wares and artifacts dotted both sides of the long series of stairs. Finally reaching on top before going to caves we saw a small place where all the information about the caves. This helped us while seeing the caves. The caves were in a bit deplorable condition showing signs of time and neglect and at times even plundering of all kinds…maybe foreign rulers???
This rock cut temples were created by carving out rock, and creating the columns, the internal spaces and the images. The entire temple is akin to a huge sculpture, through whose corridors and chambers one can walk. The entire complex was created through a process of rock removal. Some of the rock surfaces are highly finished while some are untreated bare rock.
The entire cave temple complex covers an area of about 60000 squrare feet and it consists a main chamber and two lateral ones , courtyards and several subsidary shrines. Above the temple is the mass of natural rock.
The first cave is the best .There are three entrances to this temple/cave. The ones on the east and the west marking the axis of the temple. A 20 pillared hall lines the axis, and on its western end is the cella in shich is enshrined a Shivalingam. The pillars consist of fluted columns standing on square bases, and are crowned with fluted cushion capitals.there were borders of small ganpatis on these pillars.
The enigmatic image of Trimurthi Sadasiva: The Sadasiva manifestation of Shiva is carved in relief at the end of the north south axis. This collossal 20 feet high image of the three headed Shiva, Trimurthy is a magnificient one, considered to be a masterpiece of Indian art. This colossal image represents Panchamukha Shiva, only three faces of whom are carved into the wall and it demands immediate attention upon entering the temple through the northern entrance. Also on the southern wall are grand sculptured images of Kalyanasundara, Gangadhara, Ardhanariswara and Uma Maheswara. To the west of the northern entrance are sculptured images of Nataraja and Andhakaasuravadamoorthy, and to its east are images of Yogiswara and Ravanaanugrahamurthy.
Thus in the Elephanta caves, Shiva is portrayed in the non anthropomorphic Shivalingam form, as well as in his quintessential being emanating from the Shivalingam in the colossal image, and in 8 manifest forms.
To the east of the main temple is a courtyard, flanked by the secondary shrine. This temple contains six pillars at its entrance, four of which are free standing and two engaged. The entrance leads to a hall decorated with sculptured panels depicting legends from the Shiva Purana.there was a sculpture of shiva parvati with their attendants which though now weathered mush have looked so good when carved. The intricate sculptures together with their clothes and jwellery were just so wonderfully carved. The courtyards which were in front of two adjoining areas. I almost imagined dances taking place there or devotees standing up for a prayer. The remaining caves were in much more deplorable plundered condition and we managed to take our photos in them as the idols looked missing. We saw hoards of monkeys there , waiting for people to offer them something. Not much left to see we climbed downstairs to take us back to the boat to Mumbai. The experience truly exotic in a way only I wished I would have got more to see.

Chikki delite J

Chikkis have always been my favorite as far as I can remember, right since I was small and used to go to one of these shops (now converted into a jewelry store) where they had all kinds of colorful and fascinating eatables. There were extra strong/peppermint /gold coins , there were colorful/peppermint tablets, some other colorful sweets in various shapes like leaves and birds, there were biscuits of animal shapes or having alphabets, biscuits with icing on top, AA sweets kaju vadi (rare now and still my favorite) and of course groundnut chikki…in small neat squares. The kind you find at road style stall but just much cleaner. Chikkis in all forms appealed to me. There was usual but so appealing groundnut chikki , groundnut powder chikki, til (sesame seeds) chikki, also called gajak in north India, roasted channa chikki dried dates chikki (rare…ate only once) coconut chikki (not that favorite…to hard) dried nut chikki and kaju chikki…the list is limited but equally delightful of course who can forget mamra/ kurmura chikki.
I remember seeing small bits of these chikkis (leaving aside exotic dried fruits) at a vendor in small glass box that he carried to sell. My mother never allowed me to get a taste of it then, but surely the mamra chikki colored red must have been amazing.
I developed taste for it mostly when my dada (dad) traveled to Pune and brought back with him mixed chikki. A true Libran I would never be able to make choice, and in the end got what my sister left. Not bad either since my sister had limited choice and main she was not fond of chikkis.
Chikkis though made all over India, places that were famous were lonavla, matheran, karjat, Rajkot and Ahmadabad. The best according to me were that of lonavla, matheran and Rajkot of course. Especially the flaky and crispy til (sesame seeds) gajak.
My love affair for chikkis began even before chikki was glamorously packaged in glossy packets and called chikkers (which never took off much).
I remember later developing love for coconut chikki (soft for teeth please) when I used to travel local trains and feast on 2 for 5 bucks stuff when fryums didn’t hold my attention the eye relentlessly searched for coconut or groundnut or channa chikki in the wicker basket full of snack goodies. Or on the way home grabbing one to sustain the hunger till home came or scrounging for change in bag of books for a bite of groundnut chikki.
My fascination to them turned into true love when I read that chikkis especially those made in jaggery or gud were a healthy snack which not only gave energy but sustained longer than bag of chips. They gave a special meal of chikki and milk to under nourished children in municipal schools. Chikki as a robust snack was known even when it seems when kokan railway was being built they provided chikki to manual labourers to make them sustain hard work for longer durations.
My chikki research also started and I realized that chikki is also made throughout the world and called by various names like Pé-de-moleque or urchin foot in Brazil, commonly called as brittle. Praline which is used in cake and chocolate flavors, originating in France and Nougat in France and Europe, Roca in USA.
In this chikki has traveled world and over and has numerous “firang” cousins but what I like most is that I can still have it at economical rate and still enjoy the same taste and feel as I did when I was small. Truly lovely.

My recent love affair with boondi ladu.

Boondi ladu was never my that favorite. As a sweet it was fine…but it came much behind Bengali sweets, till ladu, chikkis, karanjis, methi ladu etc..but it all started recently. We all go for our tea break at a tapir. You know that very well. Now at this tapri, they sell limited stuff. Only recently adding dosa to their limited menu of missal, bhaji pav, alu pav etc. out of their few collections looking inviting in glass containers at the counter. What used to catch my attention was yellow tiny boondi ladu. There were groundnut chikkis (slurp), peanut packets, soanpapdi etc etc. I sued to always wonder if these ladus were fresh enough. One day being real hungry but in no mood to fill my stomach to the brim. The snake of temptation overcame me and I ordered for a boondi ladu. My friends cautioned me against it. Staleness and the later after effects on health all were conveniently ignored when the ladu came in. I broke the ladu into half. My friends were dazed and didn’t want to have a bite. I put the first bit in the mouth. It was GOOD. The boondi was minus lots of ghee. The sugar not that syrupy…but somehow made the ladu taste divine.yaar diwana kar diya. Incidentally we don’t get these ladus that often in the market. We get the usual orange motichur (yikes) which I don’t like at all because they are soft…syrupy and just too oily. Nopes I am not dieting (remember we are talking about boondi ladu here), jut that I don’t like those ladus much. so when I went to aayi’s place, we went to one of these shops where I found these ladus in packets. The boondi were bigger but the overall content a bit superior. Its called as sukha boondi at my better half’s(?) and being a sweet freak he doesnot cherish the ladu much.
Now usually whenever I go to tapri, I order one ladu. To taste the loveliness in just two bites.

Gits ka kamaal

Look at these monsters...making my mouth water :)

A lazy sunday evening and typical evening hunger prompted me to open a recently brought gits packet of gulab jamun. Skeptical I opened it and dumped the contents in a mixing bowl. in my kitchen everything goes by "andaaz" and not measures (leaving aside 6 guna water for khichdi and some specific measures like idlis which if we do without measures...ho gaya kalyaan)" milk was added and the mix turned runny :( thinking of making bhajia jamun instead of gulab jamun washed my hands.Returning back I saw the change, milk was wonderfully absorbed in the mix making the mixture pliable as clay in hands. I made small "golas" wondering why the packet said that it makes 20 medium sized jamuns. I thought I imagined that they were slowly "phulophying" Aai's lovely homemade ghee sizzled in the kadhai next to the saucepan of sugar syrup or chasni with light yellow transperant color of dear saffron. they puffed more into fistfuls when I started to fry them, i was going to throw fit. turning them into lovely darkish brown color I took them out to immerse them in syrup. the next batch followed with same phulofyed results. to emerse these in syrup made my face into a pleased and shocked frown, the jamuns had fulofied a bit more. that I wondered if third batch would be accomodated.small unassuming "golas" were turning into fistful of sugar drowned monsters. finally done with the frying I added rava in the ghee to make halva (use of good ghee :)) my heart did sommersaults of happiness as I saw my first attempt to cook good was nice. I sneaked two of the mouth melting jamuns and they left me asking for more. it was only after exercising a lot of self control, I told my better (?) half to click them before they were gorged by him, an avid jamun fan.This surely gave me more enthusiasm to try out new things, maybe dhokla next time...what say???

31st pe twist J

Now our common friend and I were deciding on something simple yet nice outing on 31st. My better (?) half wanted to visit some never tried restaurant. But after a bit hefty “kharcha” for our goa trip none of the two of us (our common friend and I) were keen in re spending and then working our backs off for the wallet to fill again. So we decided after I cam from office. I loved my friend for being stubborn for a change in front of my better (?) half. And off we headed to railway station to join them. Out common friend and his wife. We started gorging from that time itself on peanuts and some cold samosas. I discovered a very nice pav bhaji outlet at thane east from my friend and decided to visit there once. The train came and we got in. we took a cab from VT (CST for you) to churchgate and after long discussion dined at “Kamling” an OK restaurant with bearable Chinese cuisine. The soup (hot and sour) lacked salt and zing and sizzler (momos) was oily unfortunately. The rice had burnt taste.and vegetable raw and tasteless. What was the only saving grace was schezwan noodles. Thin noodles with enough spice without being spicy. After paying the hefy bill for a mediocre meal we headed to marine drive or queens necklace. We had scoops at baskins in between which was real yummy. We scrolled at the unusually crowded place and finally found palce to sit.at the strike of 12 however everything changed. For good 10 minutes there were fireworks that lightned our awe struck faces and brightened our new year. We scrolled for some time before we realized…the time of last train…we scurried like crazy mice bundled in the taxi. But train had left 2 minutes before we reached VT. We waited for bus but no luck…finally we took a reasonably prized cab freezing in the coolness of night air we dozed off for some time. No regrets we had started new year with a bang J and something new. This is what I wanted…something new definitely.

A trip to goa on paper before a shift delete from the mind.

A few joint holidays a couple of friends joining at destination and we headed to goa. My better half had never seen it in life and I have millions of pictures of it. A native to goa my palette is goan too except fish eating…dunno why coming from family of cats…that is those people who eat any kind of fish…hehe…with taste ofcourse…I have often been amazed the way my dad (or dada as I call him) ate deftly the nastiest of fishes one with most thorns and most tasty it seems and cleaned the plate and the fish carcass like it was never used…a characteristic which I picked up and for which at times I was mocked J jokes apart…
So we went to goa. The moment we were out of train my better (?) half started clicking like some mindless Japanese J empty stomach and need to be at destination ASAP I was starting to loose my fickle temper J. Now to give him real taste we went to mhapsa/ mapuca (as Portuguese would call) by bus J a rickety feeling but definitely at home. And later after a reasonable fare of rickshaw we reached calangut beach where our common friend greeted us with a broad simplest smile. After exchanging pleasantries with him and his wife…we freshened up…and went for some water sports…I didn’t know that the beach was so close to where we stayed it was definitely a blessing J the beach was full of shacks, places where you could just chill with a bottle of kingfisher under cool shade. So we sat on beach and our fiend a water sport enthusiast decided to go for such sports. His wife and I were skeptical but in the end he won. We had a water scooter ride (strictly avoidable and just too short), a dolphin seeing ride where we saw almost inexistent dolphins that is only their tail and a lovely bumper ride…the one in which the float in which you sat was pull in a high speed by a motor boat…it pulls the float in all directions and as float moves your heart misses beats …this ride actually took my breath away…and of course my heart away too. Truly fantastic. Now the guys wanted to have something cool…you read it right. We headed to the shack and guys had some of that kingfisher…while we filled our stomachs with sizzlers. later we went to bathe in water and my better (?) half got him self drowned in sand by us…all this activity made us real exhausted and we slept like logs not awakened even by sounds of our friend’s friend approaching to join us on our remaining trip. We got up when even evening left us…still drowsy and all five of us headed for a lovely dinner at a marvelous place called “Brittos” I never expected the rotis which is typical north Indian stuff would be made so well here that even after being cold could be eaten and not masticated J. After this we headed so see some of the night life. Culture shocks awaited for us and for some one who doesnot enjoy much of the nightlife…it was OK…we came back and just slept.
The next day morning went in just convincing the other folks to visit the sea…both the ladies then decided that for the remaining days we will go on our own. We got ready and our friend hired a nice car from a friend of his. We started off by going to book tickets for the cruise and then went to one of temples ( mageshi) where we had our lunch/ evening snacks like missal pav (simply scrumptious on long empty stomachs) and nariyal pani and some chips. We then visited an old church (St. Xavier’s church) where we saw lovely gothic carvings and ofcourse a mummified saint on whose name the churche was built. This church was in panji /panjim and truly a delight for architects and structural engineers. Time for the cruiz was yet to come so we headed of to one of the hills…courtesy to our real adventurous friend…where we got lovely glimpse of sea sea and sea. We pick nicked on chips one packet between five of us…and after sun baked us we headed downwards. We went to a small reconstructed temple and after a change of clothes headed to not that famous Miramar beach where we had sev puri, dahi puri and bhel (not that good) and later cotton candy seeing the sun set. We then went to have some tea and later gujrati thali…and off we went to the cruise. The experience was good…moving with a boat on Mandovi River but the entertainment seriously needed a makeover J exhausted to the gills we went to our room while our friends had their boys night out.
The next day my friend and I stealthily left the room to have a look at wonderful and peaceful beach early in the morning. Our better halves gave us a scare when after some time they joined us with a bang. We came back and after breakfasting a bit headed to Chapora or dil chahta hai fort…a lovely fort where all the three sides overlooked the sea. We saw a small hillock and decided to go the end…Now below the hillock was anjuna beach and my dearest beer sloshed friends wanted to get down by climbing the hillock. My heart skipped a beat and another and another and slowly we got down…yikes but truly a unique and good experience. We went to one of these shacks where we raided the piping hot rice, fresh chapattis, some vegetable and fried fish. Stuffed like toys we relaxed. Now we had parked the car near the fort and we had got down from some weird adventurous end. And so we walked and walked and walked to our car, but even this was a lovely experience with lush dense greenery at both the ends of narrow roads…we headed to one of sidish pubs then…built on hilltop in open space the music was good and psychedelic in nature. After spending some time with mosquitoes we headed back. We had our last dinner at brittos and a scoop at Baskin robins and headed home. The night in goa thus passed. The next day took us much earlier on the beach but manager’s call on the cell brought me out of idyllic bliss. We breakfasted on parathas, club s/w and chais after which we completed remaining sports then, banana ride (nasty…especially when you don’t know swimming), and the bumper ride but the cherry on the cake was paragliding which I did with my better half (?)…and to quote in his words absolutely mind-blowing.
Exhausted and in hurry to catch the afternoon train we headed to the room getting ready soon. At the station we had lunch of samosas and chips with some chai again, and we got into the train to get back to the reality leaving back our hearts and carefree life of whatever we spent in Goa.

Mera "Salat"

All the ingredients were available. But the germ didn’t get converted in the idea yet. I didn’t want to eat something that my better half (?) was going to have. And suddenly I had it in my head seeing packet of golden sweet corn just out of reliance fresh sitting in my chill tray giving a cool golden smile. A juicy apple and huge strawberry half in my stomach came next. Grapes nicely chopped, corn boiled, a bit shriveled cucumber and tomato followed the example a bit of onion and coriander leaves to give a nice fresh taste. A bit of palak boiled for alu palak got sort of chopped. Boiled water started to cook remainants of rice vermicelli from the packet. Kernels of jardaloos earlier gorged on gave the crunch in form of tiny tasty nuts. Britannia cheese single bits enhanced the richness. A bit of groundnut powder freshly made earlier day and a bit of toasted “tils”. I missed olives truly L. I was wondering how to bind them together in form of dressing. A hint of ginger garlic paste, oregano, chilly flakes and cheesy dip from Friday’s pizza order, yogurt to moisten this dressing and to give the pungency there was horseradish which my better (?) hald had got on my insistence on way from USA. A nice beaten mixture. Mixed nicely in the salad I was going to have the first spoonful when I thought…a flickr pls J and so my better (?) half charged the batteries and even volunteered to click the pic.
And after all this when I had my first bite…it was like wow…absolutely heaven. One of the reasons being that I am salad freak and another salad freaked me out JJ
Though I should have put some boiled cabbage, mayonnaise, grated carrots boiled mashed potato, boiled broccoli florets, or cauliflower florets, chopped capsicum ,red, yellow, maroon and pink (last two real lapet) peppers mint etc etc…but quiet simply I didn’t have it at home…hehehahaha…
Moral of the story put whatever u have at home a bit sanely and u will have a nice salad at hand and with some soup from the packet and toast cheese (I love the stuff) or otherwise…and u have a lovely meal for urself…that too in jiffy JJJ

I seem to be getting interested in clicking and posting :) dekhte hai :) surely visual appeal will give more appeal to my otherwise blahblah affair

In memoriam of southie pet pooja

I have always liked and tasted whatever came in my way as food. Disciplined by my father from a young age…I ate and took in my plate only as much as I could eat and cleaned the plate. My appetite is less but my search for good and tasty food is enormous. When my stomach growls my brain pays attention and actually thinks…”what should I eat”…
There was a time that all I had was a decent pocket money…one that I liberally spent on books and music…it used to be my annual spree to rhythm house at kala ghoda…to buy the choicest cassettes (this mode of music is almost defunct now…n I am left with many cassettes and no player). With books…well I searched through second hand shops of matunga (where my college was there) joined British council and Xeroxed some of them…or college library….this habit still continues…and I buy only those books which I will read more than once or twice…hence all the sheldons and kings don’t find their way in my collection. But in the list of borrowings J
This is how I am…I am talking about food and look where I actually ended up being. Now with most of the money in music and books…it left me enough to frequent taj J hence I frequented lots of Tajs along the roads…one which specialized in Chinese food, Indian burgers (read vada pav) which came in ¼ of price of their videshi cousins J one such food that I preferred to have any where, something hot and fulfilling was idli, vadas and dosa. Usually it would be dosa…plan sada dosa…minus the butter and at least second helping of chutney. Idlis and vadas came close second. When I was stuck with choice it would be idli-vada (as usual…Libran indecisiveness)…depending on my moods and fancies I would have it either submerged in Sāmbhar or Sāmbhar shepret (seperate)J..I have had these at numerous places…ranging from meager 5 rs. a plate (no Sāmbhar only chatni…dal was costly even then) to 30-40 rs a plate.
My first taste of dosa was at two places one of them was café shringar at Andheri, walkable distance from home…where aai and dada took us sometimes over the weekend and where I had my first taste of HUGE sada dosa J. Which as my sister recollects…I ate slowly (age factor…I was 4-5 years old at that time) but relished every bite and finished the dosa to the last crumb. Another was at one of the few (at that time) shopping centers. From street standards it was good. A bit limp…but the chatnis served by them were never tasted by me anywhere else. They were truly good. later a stall opened at the neck of our lane…where I rarely had their limp hot dosas…only in case where stomach was going under coma…just to sustain it.
The vadas were always crispy and so were idlis...always fresh. This result was definitely replicated at Radhakrishna at Andheri shoppers stop and at Ramkrishna vileparle west…who served sublime idlis and just out of the world vadas
Though dadar boasted of sabudana and batata vadas it never catered to idli dosa…so didn’t share many memories here
The dosa outside alliance francaise de Bombay, marine lines was lovely…I guess mainly because I used to almost always be very famished, out of library and lunch would still be a 2 hour travel home…hot, crisp (the best thing I love about dosa) and fresh… vadas…(cold…yikes) and idlis (rubbery…for steaming too long) were strictly out of question.
The dosa at mani’s (matunga central) I got to taste only after I met an ex ruia college colleague and a lovely friend who accompanied me for giving me the taste…the dosa was as lovely as it was when my mom had it when she was at Ruia college…sambhar had a real homely taste. Idlis were usual rava and vadas definitely tasty since they were out of stock J
Sustainable dosa I also found at thane near teen haath naka where I either gorged on sada dosa or mysore masala dosa…a bit limp but definitely better than searching home for something palaptable to eat.
On the contrary I found lovely crisp sada dosa at woodland retreat…a restaurant we frequent whenever we are hungry and don’t feel like cooking at home. They have that sambhar that I have rarely tasted elsewhere. Not that loaded with veggies but oh so fragrant with freshly ground masalas and chopped onions…wow…I could drink it or just have it with steaming hot rice and papad…a meal is done.. Idlis are always tasty here and they serve mini vadas ,the tini morsels of delight
What I loved the best however were small idlis and chatini that my friend and I gorged on our way home in the morning from library…studying famished us…and idli chatni @5 was all we could ask for…we either had them at the stalls having freshly stamed idlis and crisp fried vadas..but that was rare…we usually had them on the road…with hard paper serving as plates…we would usually meet them in the morning…dark-skinned south Indian fellows with “maunvrat” who would say nothing beyond how much we owed them. Carrying their wares on the cycle and having that typical sounding horn “pom- pom” surely evoking hunger in millions others wishing to have fresh idlis for breakfast at their doorstepJ