Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Refugee

The clouds,they are the same
as I left them in my country.
They are my clouds.
and so the ocean’s liquid melody.

Seeking refuge we have arrived
homeland denied
If only we have the power
to pull out the threads and start over.

My motherland’s bosom tastes of blood
may the peace rest in deathbed.
A cancer they say,of the rascist mind
the panacea only destiny shall find.

Farms there harvest lives
Plants bloom bombs
Autumns shed heads
Cradles rock towards tombs.

fires and sirens
have long replaced the nightingales
Rising black smoke
have shrouded our holy temples.

O Sun,your attempts are but futility
to cast golden beams of hope
upon rising on our dead city.

O Wind,if you could please give a hand
Take away the souls from half-dead bodies
as you sweep past our land.

O Seas,keep sending waves to our shore
wipe our peoples’ tears
and the blood and the gore.

Isn’t it the same air we breathe?
and the same barren earth beneath?
would a language dare throw us apart
when we learn to speak from the heart?

Seeking refuge we have arrived
homeland denied
If only we have the power
to pull out the threads and start over.

The shirts are wearing our bodies
candles weep wax tears with us
makes no difference to no one
If we dont return.
Is this a promise of a new home
and probably some hope?

It is raining
the clouds,they are crying!
After all,my clouds they are
just the same everywhere.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

It's my moon...

As I stood propped against the parapet wall of my terrace,I could feel the gentle breeze caress my face.The sun had just just accepted defeat and dissappeared into the western skies.I stared at the enveloping darkness of the sky as the night was slowly veiling in and I could feel my thoughts wheeling back to those times when my head could barely reach the parapet rim.

All those stars were little diamonds studded across the sky." One day I'm going to pluck them all and hide them under my pillows", I'd promised myself then.Imagine the shock that would've come upon me when my fifth grade book informed that stars are colossal masses of fire,times bigger than our sun and not the small pretty diamonds as they seem to be.I'd been enlightened that never will I be able to pluck stars.I was dissappointed.

Then I was in for the next shock- The-One-Moon-For-Everyone theory.How could that possibly be true?Everyday after twilight games all of us take our own moons and run across the grounds,through the streets with that heavenly balloon tagging along with us.Then I'd carefully secure my moon behind the bars of my window beside the bed.But the science 'miss' seemed pretty sure about it.

The skies were not just big blue umbrellas.The beast that fed on the moon got extinct.Rains no longer poured from showers entrenched in the skies.My sun did not sleep under the depths of the bellowing sea.

Time had flewn me from a world of fascination to one equipped with answers and geared with facts.As the truth was coroneted,the charisma was exiled.Science had destroyed the splendor.We become a victim of a timeless journey and somewhere along the way we lose our juvenile innocence.

Thoughts swirled back to me and I missed something that had seemed so trivial before.I looked up at the empty beauty of the night.The moon had by then undraped its nimbus stricken profile.I tried to locate that old woman on the moon but only void craters jeered back at me.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Cuisine corner


"There's no love sincerer than the love of food" and I'm head over heels in it.Food has always excited me- the smell, flavour,colour,the tangible pleasure... everything about it even cooking.As a child when my kiddy counterparts would play police-thief , doctor-patient, I liked playing chef-diner. Mixing up sand, leaves and water in my little kitchen set and baptising my very own recipe.It was fun,queer though it was.I find it kinda fascinating to put a wet mass of ingredients into the cooker and take out aromatic, tantalising food after a while.Try punching at the atta dough, go chop-chop-chop on the beans or squeeze the life out of a tamarind..phew such a stress reliever!

I love cook-books, not that I try every recipe that I read through but I read it anyway for the heck of it. And when I really do feel like cooking I'd browse and browse for a good recipe, hunt around for the ingredients in the market, and go wild in the kitchen.Mom would be pretty excited too( that is if she chose to overlook the post-cooking clutter in the kitchen).Then I would be in my world-exploring,creating,tasting.

Ofcourse, I've had my fiascos like:
the chewy-centred vanilla cookies that looked more like our conventional soft paniyaarams.
the cabbage soup that sedimented all the minutest ingredients only to leave a super-clear fluid on top and my mom suspected i'd boiled water in the name of soup(sniff)
the fruit kesari garnished with over burnt brown crusts( i should admit i kinda liked the queer taste ;) )
the garlic soup that I'd made to treat my grandpa's light cold that gotten him into a temperature :(

Sometimes I can be the creative one and make up my own recipe from scratch or switch some of the ingredients around a bit to make it “my style” and when I do, I must admit I am taking a pretty big risk because some many turn out to be anything but palatable.But there are times where I'd emerged triumphant in my attempts at ladle-wieldery.First I'd dive head-first into exploration, then the nervous anticipation, and talk about the fulfillment!
Here are a few dishes that turned out to be actually tasty :)

Sproutizza
Sprouts topped PIzza
Things u'll need:
Pizza base from a departmental store,pizza cheese,butter,pepper,onion,tomato,capsicum,moong sprouts,mustard,tomato sauce, garam masala or if possible chaat masala,salt,chilli(red flaked or cut green chilli or chilli sauce).

Heat refined oil in a pan add mustard seeds as they cracle add onion and capsicum, fry for 2 minutes, then addcut or blanched tomatoes, moong sprouts, pepper & salt, cover it cook till mong is slightly soft but the crunchy texture of the sprout should remain.Now grease the pizza base with butter, spread the mong mixture, tomato and chille sauce mix,cover it with grated cheese, sprinke some pepper and garam masala over it.You many also also coriander leaves ,grated carrot and sliced mushrooms.Place the base in a greased tray and cook in micro low for 5-7 minutes or till the cheese melts.

There you have a mouth-watering healthy pizza.My dad,a pizza n junk food hater, actually liked it. If u have parents who are diabetic you can add low-fat cheese.

Fish-O-wraps:
Fish baked in banana leaf- an Indianised Thai dish:

Things u'll need:
Fish(of ur choice) slices, banana leafs,thread,For the MARINADE: shallot(small onion), garlic,ginger,coriander,mint,thick coconut milk,a dash of lemon juice,chilli,chilli powder,salt,( a pinch of sugar-optional, only adds a subtle flavour)

Grind the ingredients for the marinade together in a mixer. Apply the marinade on either sides of the fish slice and allow it to marinate for half an hour in a refrigerator for the flavor to permeate into the fish.
Wrap each of the slice in a strip of banana leaf and secure it with thread.You might slather the extra marinade on it before securing.Bake for 25-30 mins in an oven or pressure cooker. After it is done fold back the banana leaf n serve. And to tell of the aroma of the banana leaf and coriander flavoured fish when u open it.....heaven!!

This again is a healthy dish compared to its deep fried counterparts,rich in proteins and yeah definitely mouth-watering!

Apple kheer

Chop up an apple, add 3-4 tablespoons water, one teaspoon sugar, one clove,a couple of elaichi and heat it over a very low flame. Keep it covered with a lid. Once the apple becomes completely soggy, your stew is ready. Mash it up and serve it plain, or topped with a little roated nuts. This is again very simple to make and is a healthy snack. Although there's nothing as healthy as uncooked fruit, this dish does retain some nutrients.

Chickoo punch
Blend a couple of chickoos with milk,suger, a handfull of dates, raisins and a dash of cocoa. A healthy,yummy,high -nutrient drink is ready.

Now for my best invention.

New-year kulfi:
We had a lot of milk sweets that had come as gifts for the new year- quite an over whelming amount actually. Not wanting to waste them,I blended thick cooled milk, the milk sweets, a handful of nuts, cream and poured them on an ice cream tray.What resulted was a lip-smacking kulfi! It made an instant sensation among my neighbourhood.

It is such a pleasure watching your loved ones heartily eat up ur dish. Food prepared with love sure has the ability to pass it along. I have often wondered why cooking is often chided as a dull necessity when it can easily be a creative craft and an occupying hobby. There are countles combinations to try and different styles of it to give a shot at, just like good old music and results rewarding.Anyway I have plans of spending this summer trying my hand at Chinese sushi, pasta pesto,quiches,french consommes,gourmets etc. You are invited for lunch( If you have the guts!)

Credits:
Priya- the enterprising and occasionally klutzy cook
Dad- who would eat up anything that I make without the slightest hint of cynism or criticism
Mom- makes the best efforts to suppress the grimace on the face when the tasting the newly-tried dish.
Bro- would go to extents of asking for more , so oblivious of the risk factor.

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

At the beginning of a better tomorrow...

At the stroke of twelve we see the birth of a new-born year crying and screaming of joy.Its a time of free flowing wishes, of nascent resolutions, of new promises. For many it might just be a change of a calendar, just another day...for few others it is a new beginning, a new chapter in the book of life.Its a time where you stop every now n then then in your life to punctuate your descent through it ,as time has crawled on your wristwatch so much so to send a whole year behind.As days keep climbing the mountain of years..

May you see new sucesses with every sunrise.
May you indulge in lifes little pleasures.
May you laugh till you cry and cry only out of joy.
May your pillows know only peacful slumber.
May you love selflessly and receive plenty of love when you need it the most.
May your teeth,hair and account balance never fall
May your blood pressure, cholestrol and mortgage interest never rise.
May all your yesterdays create special memories for you.
May all your Nows be fully lived
May the path you take lead to beautiful tomorrows.
May you appreciate all the wonderful things about you and others.
May your dreams do their best to come true.
May you get the best of everything that you so well deserve.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

The meaning of 'Happy new year' will come true when at the end of the year onestates," ....and it had been a happy year".Therefore I hereby resolve to be my best self and make this year a truly HAPPY one for me and everyone around!

Sunday, December 14, 2008

What is all this fizz about?

Little drops of joy- a captivating tagline, claiming to offer a second of satisfaction, an instant of happiness and a bubble of hope with every sip of coca cola one takes.Behind that joyous, dewy cool facade lies something more hideous than the phosphoric acids and pesticide content that we know of.A little bit of browsing through revealed how coke is on its heel, heaping atrocities on the developing countries of the world.


Coca cola, a U.S based multi-national company and a political product of it's domination and global sucess, has it's straws down in Indian wells siphoning away much needed water.Recent news read that so much water was being pulled out for the manufacture of the drink that the sites with bottling plants, and the villages around,from uttar pradesh to kerala, are left with little water to drink, cook and wash.The condition is even worse in Mexico where coke has accounted for land privatisation program that allowed free access to all the resources on the land, including water.And it seems it needs four litres of water to produce one litre of tasty-tasty coke.Need of the day!


Coke does not directly employ child labor.Not violating the law, and by it's own guiding principles coke only buys sugarcane from the fields of El Salvador which employs around 5000 to 30,000 children,some as young as 8 years.Sugarcane farming, from what I know, is one of the most hazardous of practices.One is bound to sustain several injuries and health hazards, inspite of experience.Imagine what plight little children will have to undergo. Some children also get to miss school during the harvesting period.



At colombia, the killings of union leaders at Coca-Cola's bottling plants has evoked truths about the company taking paramilitaies' help to threaten and harass its union leaders.Columbia is a country already famous for its paramilitaries belonging to its self defense forces itself who treat trade union leaders like pests taking their lives in dozens every year. Claims show that the company benefits from paramilitary violence and is also one of the orchestrating powers of right-wing paramilitaries.


Big Cola is a famous mexican cola company, now under rapid supression from coke.Market positions in Mexico are taken by power and the retailers are put under immense pressure not to sell rival drink Big Cola. Coke also has found a brilliant niche market in there that is made to believe cola induces burping, which releases the evil from the soul!

Denials and evasions are all that comes from the company's side of the story.Coca cola is just the parent corporation that markets the drink.So,technically coke is not produced by a single global company, but a global network of bottling companies that are either wholly or partially owned by Coca cola.That gives coke reason enough to elude the enlisted abuses and keep up the high-value brand name.


For some reason ,I feel,coke gets picked up first against its more conservative cousins.May be its the extensive ad campaigns, costly brand ambassadors, or simply for the cool dude/dudette image it creates.Whatever it is,coke may well be your favourite soft- drink but for many ruralites clean water is still their drink of choice.You can spare them some by refusing a bottle of the not-so-healthy fizzy pop!

Thursday, December 4, 2008

The race and the routes.

Sorry, I have no time to introduce myself because I'm running a race- a race to see who comes out on top over everyone else.I'm not sure since when I've been running but I've been running ever since I started running.Hardly can I see a destination, but I will keep running with nowhere as my endless destination.

Is this what I really want? Well.. I dont know.Just as we all want to be on top I want my little moment in the spotlight.And you have to be in the number one spot simply to survive, and survive that I must.Therefore I will run. There are routes, though limited they are. High pay, medium pay, low pay jobs.Tech job, softy job, management job. MS abroad- ambitious universities, good universities, ok-ok universities. MBA- Top tier business schools, B-grade business schools.And that is my domain and I'm not to run outside the boundaries.I need to run to continue living in the “status quo”, do-what’s-expected-of-you lifestyle that’s got me this far.

Dreams? Oh yeah... I had a few...but.. Why take a chance on a far-flung dream (that may fail!) when you could follow a formulaic pattern that leads to an already determined – and hopefully successful – conclusion.Why think beyond the circle when the circle is so self-sufficient?It has been set and treaded upon.That alone is the legal track for the race and you lose if you step out.Being money-minded is practical. Dreams are mere illusions,they lead you nowhere.See something that works and stick to it, don’t fix what isn’t broken! That's how you got to be in the race and that's why I'm running.And yeah...Hi! I am... just another rat!

Sunday, November 30, 2008

A story of the girl.

A gloomy evening sun was casting its grim rays into the smudged window pane of her office cabin.Vaishnavi stood, leaning against the sliding door to the balcony, lost in thoughts.She didn’t want to think of what happened the day before while there was nothing else she could possibly think of. She was tired, for the last night, for some reason, sleep kept eluding her. After a few more long moments she took her bag and left the office.

Speeding her scooty through the busy streets of Chennai , Vaishnavi zigzagged her way across the many vehicles that raced the roads, taking turns and cuts at places. It was a default ride, she wasn't concentrating on where she was heading to. There was virtually no other place but her home she headed to right after work.Reaching at the end of the street she slowed down her bike beside the neighbourhood she had spent all her life in.

The door of her house was open even before she could ring the bell.Walking in she found her father in his huge wooden chair silently scanning through the papers.He did not look up.He did not acknowledge her arrival.She went in, washed and changed. The breakfast she had made that morning lay cold in the casserole and the coffee undrunk.She looked across the room to where her father sat.He was only a few yards from her but it seemed like the distance was growing every minute and something opaque was building up between them. Feeling distressingly uncomfortable, she sat down. It had never been like this before. Never, ever since Vaishnavi's mom left her when she was only thirteen. Her father,Subromaniyan, was an auditor in a huge firm and ever since the departure of her mom he had reared her single-handedly.

Vaishnavi had grownup to be the perfect girl, the dream of every parent .She spoke less, worked hard and followed her father's words to the t. Her father had decided everything for her from the clothes she should wear, friends she should spend time with, to the career she should take up to.And she had heeded to him without a word of refusal or rather even gladly.She had completed her accountancy studies and moved to a firm where she found a decent job and became busy making herself worth the life she was given.

For all the twenty four years of her life, she kept her secret dreams intact in a land far away in her head.Staying away from all the waywardness of the sober colors of her life,she stuck to her schedule and the endless monotonies it had to offer, only believing change will come as a rescue someday, someday not very far away. And it did but it was not the quite expected change.

There she sat like a mannequin at a showroom, all adorned and groomed, infront of the group of strangers. The ladies were weighing and measuring her from top to toe and the men the house around.It was the traditional ceremony before marriage where the girl is visited and decisions are made.Decisions for something so personal, that so become a part of your life.But you are just allowed as a silent spectator when your life is being decided.As she sat being scrutinized and questioned, something in her died. Dreams were sailing far and away.She was listening no more.She stood up, refused whatever was being done and went in. Subromaniyan was taken aback just as the pain of humiliation came over him.This was something he had never expected from his daughter,whom he had brought up with every value inculcated.Had he not taught her morals and values? He was shattered.
Letting no emotions play on his solid features, Subromaniyan read through the papers that were a couple of weeks old. Someone had taken his child away from him,and changed her heart. She knew not what lies in the awful world around.But he couldn't gather the will to talk to her, for plain fear of being not heeded to.

"Appa.." ,Vaishnavi called out. Subromaniyan looked up, eyes plain and emotionless.
"Appa, I know you must be angry..but..."
"Why wouldn't I? We all have our reasons, don't we?"
"I said no because of a reason"
"Of course... You have grown up, earn and live in a corporate world.You can sure have reasons.. more than one.If I may know.. who is the boy you have decided for yourself?"
"I never told you the reason, I just said a no"
"....." Subromaniyan returned back to his paper.

" Yeah…. I said no because it was too sudden and there were so many things unknown. The boy you chose for me must be great, but I don’t know him. I couldn’t give you an answer right there right then, but they wanted an answer, and the only answer appropriate for something so strange, so nameless, was no. I didn’t say no to you, or your choice or your intentions; I said no to something I didn’t feel comfortable with, I said no to the urgency, to the lack of time and understanding. I didn’t even say no to him, but to the way it was all being done. Just … give me time. If there is anyone I would let make decision for me, it would be no one but you; but include me, let there be time to find out, to know, to like, to decide.”

Subromaniyan looked up again, this time they had tears in them, of joy.His daughter has sure grown up.