Saturday, October 30, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Recipes from home...
A recent trip by my cousin sister to Mangalore has not only provided my grandma with a pleasant surprise and heartwarming happiness, it has also brought up a topic which I suspect we are all very passionate about; food. As a family, we have in our midst in the form of our parents, expertise in the art of cooking that we should all be grateful for. While some of it is being passed on to the next generation with a reasonable level of success, I fear the future generations will lose out if we do not act now. Roushelle's idea to collate as many recipes as we can find is one that I whole heartedly agree with.
I have been invited to lunches and dinners at other Mangalorean houses and have come away with nothing more than a brief memory of unsavory tidbits. All too often, they have been more misses than hits.
Having lived away from my parents for the better part of my life, without a doubt, one of the things I missed the most is my mum's cooking. And I am pretty sure; my cousins will have similar cravings for good home cooked food rustled up by their mums in a jiffy. I know my mum had sorpotel ready three days in advance of my touching down in Bombay on every trip I made. Dad took care of the beers.
On every trip that I have made to my cousin’s place in Doha, we have invariably spent the Friday afternoons cooking away, in the hope of replicating a recipe or two that our mum's cooked for us. If these attempts do not prove our passion for good food, then what will? I rest my case.
On another parallel, food plays an important part in our Mangalorean culture, indeed in any culture. Losing out on recipes will erode our culture for future generations, for our children. Let this not happen.
An idea sparked off by my cousin sister to create a recipe log of dishes we hold dear is something I whole heartedly support. I do hope the family will help in creating this recipe log which we and our children could share for many delicious years to come.
Bon Appétit
Sanman
I have been invited to lunches and dinners at other Mangalorean houses and have come away with nothing more than a brief memory of unsavory tidbits. All too often, they have been more misses than hits.
Having lived away from my parents for the better part of my life, without a doubt, one of the things I missed the most is my mum's cooking. And I am pretty sure; my cousins will have similar cravings for good home cooked food rustled up by their mums in a jiffy. I know my mum had sorpotel ready three days in advance of my touching down in Bombay on every trip I made. Dad took care of the beers.
On every trip that I have made to my cousin’s place in Doha, we have invariably spent the Friday afternoons cooking away, in the hope of replicating a recipe or two that our mum's cooked for us. If these attempts do not prove our passion for good food, then what will? I rest my case.
On another parallel, food plays an important part in our Mangalorean culture, indeed in any culture. Losing out on recipes will erode our culture for future generations, for our children. Let this not happen.
An idea sparked off by my cousin sister to create a recipe log of dishes we hold dear is something I whole heartedly support. I do hope the family will help in creating this recipe log which we and our children could share for many delicious years to come.
Bon Appétit
Sanman
Monday, October 11, 2010
The Planet of the Apes!
No, the National Geographic has not recruited me to advocate their cause, nor have I joined the cast of 'Star Trek'.
But from that morning when the family had breakfast of vada-pao and bun-maska under the Jamun tree in the garden with a long-tailed magpie and a couple of butterflies as the honoured guests, the urge to push the cause of these mute yet magnificent creatures of God has been lingering at the back of my mind.
The other day when the crow population around that vast green expanse we call the Mehboob Studio flew into a frenzy, the cause of it happened to be a couple of langoors, out on a slow stroll, indifferent to the curious eyes around as though they knew a piece of this paradise belonged to them- man or no man!
All shooting in the studio ceased, cameras came to a standstill. Spot boys stopped in their tracks, chaiwalas froze in the action of pouring tea.. And those who have to pay a packet to hire emaciated animals to feature in their films, stood dumb struck by the sight of these two cavorting on the columns yet soooo out of reach of humans....
Are we as a human race of intelligent beings, the custodians of the living planet heading in the right direction? Look at the larger picture. Jumbos mowed down by the juggernaut of locomotives and not one eyebrow is raised or a tear shed for these lovable losers. The ocean becomes the graveyard for the poor marine creatures that considered it their only home and none is held to ransom for the massacre of marine life on a such a large scale. The killers of the voiceless, go scot-free...
Can you hear that silent scream, the miserable moans from the mangroves that are being hacked mercilessly by money-hungry monsters? How can the miniscule kingdom beneath the Arabian coast stand upto the might of the politically powered land mafia?
Reptiles in the drawing rooms, leopards on the loose, all homeless because man wants more space, more and more and....
On the one hand the numbers of the born-free creatures are steadily dwindling and on the other hand, the tentacles of greedy humans are creeping in all directions denuding the planet, stripping her of all her glory- flora and fauna while the rulers are aiming at the moon for development, progress and power! Missed the trees for the would-be my friends?
Before it all ends, I suggest our schools include more field trips in the Curriculum lest the next generation grow old without having breakfasted with a butterfly or seen a magpie fly.....
But from that morning when the family had breakfast of vada-pao and bun-maska under the Jamun tree in the garden with a long-tailed magpie and a couple of butterflies as the honoured guests, the urge to push the cause of these mute yet magnificent creatures of God has been lingering at the back of my mind.
The other day when the crow population around that vast green expanse we call the Mehboob Studio flew into a frenzy, the cause of it happened to be a couple of langoors, out on a slow stroll, indifferent to the curious eyes around as though they knew a piece of this paradise belonged to them- man or no man!
All shooting in the studio ceased, cameras came to a standstill. Spot boys stopped in their tracks, chaiwalas froze in the action of pouring tea.. And those who have to pay a packet to hire emaciated animals to feature in their films, stood dumb struck by the sight of these two cavorting on the columns yet soooo out of reach of humans....
Are we as a human race of intelligent beings, the custodians of the living planet heading in the right direction? Look at the larger picture. Jumbos mowed down by the juggernaut of locomotives and not one eyebrow is raised or a tear shed for these lovable losers. The ocean becomes the graveyard for the poor marine creatures that considered it their only home and none is held to ransom for the massacre of marine life on a such a large scale. The killers of the voiceless, go scot-free...
Can you hear that silent scream, the miserable moans from the mangroves that are being hacked mercilessly by money-hungry monsters? How can the miniscule kingdom beneath the Arabian coast stand upto the might of the politically powered land mafia?
Reptiles in the drawing rooms, leopards on the loose, all homeless because man wants more space, more and more and....
On the one hand the numbers of the born-free creatures are steadily dwindling and on the other hand, the tentacles of greedy humans are creeping in all directions denuding the planet, stripping her of all her glory- flora and fauna while the rulers are aiming at the moon for development, progress and power! Missed the trees for the would-be my friends?
Before it all ends, I suggest our schools include more field trips in the Curriculum lest the next generation grow old without having breakfasted with a butterfly or seen a magpie fly.....
Monday, October 4, 2010
Door se Darshan
Who would have believed a few years ago that the passing decades would change me into a typical Bharatiya Nari....sitting glued to the TV watching the maipulation of Hindi plots in affluent households inhabited by dumb and dolled up females? Wardha university may have nurtured my love for the Rashtrabhasha but it was Tripathi sir who tended it into a devotion. So TV se ye rishta kya kehelata hai- pass time or wasting time?
I shy away from watching the Bal Vivaha types because I am afraid I may be thrown behind bars for breaking the law,by attending under-age weddings.You see I have never had a chance to rise up the ladder to make muscle or money power and I fear I may be targetted easily by the second set of laws existing in this country, meant for common people like me .....
Back to my favourite serials. Once to the manor born is now building a Pavitra Rishta with the gutsy lass Pratigya, waiting for Jansi ki Rani to walk in the Raja ki Barath. Joot tho main bolti nahin, lekin, ye Bidaayi hogi kab?
So back to my favourite characters in my favourite serials. Does the mirage of another India projected in these serials blindfold you that you fail to see the crafty creators of these serials laughing all the way to the Swiss banks ? Our teaming millions are transported into this India of many a dreams for those few hours, leaving behind the reality of corruption, hunger, illiteracy and poverty. I am one of those clinging to my happy reality while simultaneously getting hitched to this glitzy wagon....
Gopi bahu with the chubby cheeks and dimple chin, an empty skull and nothing within....nodding her head to the clues thrown by the flashing eyes of Kali, sorry Kokila..
Ragini, i have a fixation on this Tammy's Mammy for her fixed crowning glory, fixed smile, fixed sari ....fixed everything. So sterilized, cut and paste. The whole serial is filled with sleep-walking fixtures except the dear old Alek babu who I am afraid may not be able to shake off the caricature....
Sumitra Singh, aka Thakurayin, standing tall and proud as a symbol of Patriarchal tyranny, plotting to eliminate any female that refuses to fall in line with her 'Aurat mard ke paavn ki joothi hoti hai' philosophy! Can you see the Yaadav trivumvirate in the cow belt smiling contentedly at this eliminator, a one woman army spreading their message of mardangee?
Archoo, the channel's idea of women's emancipation, in her pretty ethnic wear is pitted against man's pride and glory- three men and their collective self glory (ego?) ....Who would divorce the man that one loved so passionately, even if the Director told her to do so? And now at odds with her own convictions, how could she meekly give in to the machinations of three egos? For all her firm assertions, what a poor judge of people! Even a 10th pass with Diploma have not prepared her for the game of 'passing the buck'.
And the whole of India is being coached on this, our Indian culture....!!
I shy away from watching the Bal Vivaha types because I am afraid I may be thrown behind bars for breaking the law,by attending under-age weddings.You see I have never had a chance to rise up the ladder to make muscle or money power and I fear I may be targetted easily by the second set of laws existing in this country, meant for common people like me .....
Back to my favourite serials. Once to the manor born is now building a Pavitra Rishta with the gutsy lass Pratigya, waiting for Jansi ki Rani to walk in the Raja ki Barath. Joot tho main bolti nahin, lekin, ye Bidaayi hogi kab?
So back to my favourite characters in my favourite serials. Does the mirage of another India projected in these serials blindfold you that you fail to see the crafty creators of these serials laughing all the way to the Swiss banks ? Our teaming millions are transported into this India of many a dreams for those few hours, leaving behind the reality of corruption, hunger, illiteracy and poverty. I am one of those clinging to my happy reality while simultaneously getting hitched to this glitzy wagon....
Gopi bahu with the chubby cheeks and dimple chin, an empty skull and nothing within....nodding her head to the clues thrown by the flashing eyes of Kali, sorry Kokila..
Ragini, i have a fixation on this Tammy's Mammy for her fixed crowning glory, fixed smile, fixed sari ....fixed everything. So sterilized, cut and paste. The whole serial is filled with sleep-walking fixtures except the dear old Alek babu who I am afraid may not be able to shake off the caricature....
Sumitra Singh, aka Thakurayin, standing tall and proud as a symbol of Patriarchal tyranny, plotting to eliminate any female that refuses to fall in line with her 'Aurat mard ke paavn ki joothi hoti hai' philosophy! Can you see the Yaadav trivumvirate in the cow belt smiling contentedly at this eliminator, a one woman army spreading their message of mardangee?
Archoo, the channel's idea of women's emancipation, in her pretty ethnic wear is pitted against man's pride and glory- three men and their collective self glory (ego?) ....Who would divorce the man that one loved so passionately, even if the Director told her to do so? And now at odds with her own convictions, how could she meekly give in to the machinations of three egos? For all her firm assertions, what a poor judge of people! Even a 10th pass with Diploma have not prepared her for the game of 'passing the buck'.
And the whole of India is being coached on this, our Indian culture....!!
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