Bitchin' Kitchen

Some call it overconfidence and some call it foolishness... I usually go by the saying..what goes at the top does come down at some point or the other.. Probably my creative stagnancy was too prolonged or the fact that I have had too many random thoughts in my head that went away like wisps of smoke( I have been away from the writing scene for some time now, read: almost half a year) but this incident was something that just had to be put down.

Well the whole thing started with the realization that turning 21 is not a very pleasant situation.Ahem!! the fact that I have received a reluctant nod for certain things in life like the subtle acceptance that nothing can be done if I decide to let my hair down socially( read: alcohol in measured amounts). On the other hand there are certain other things being pursued with a fierce enthusiasm.( read on)

So the theme revolves around the kitchen,the place which I despise the most and is the least visited sector of my home.( I am usually found eyes shut,face down,under covers in my natural habitat that is called the BED; ocassionally I can be found loitering around reading something and the maximum activity that I show is of munching edibles around the dining area. This, I talk of, the pure bliss days right now) And so it is that whenever I am in this elysian phase, it is shattered by polite digs at me by my mother and paranoia expressed by my grandmother at my lack of kitchen activity.( This is being said with a lot of spite and bitterness!!!! for dramatic effect)

I am a very peaceful person or call it MALLUISM as coined by my friends; but it usually takes a lot to perturb me deeply.So you can imagine my plight when I decided to enter the threshold of the "kitchen".

And so at the god thanking prayers and smiles of the ladies ,the omellete was added on to my list of 'cook to survive items' ;the only other being maggi.

The biggest battle started when the tougher things came about and since the challenging stakes and feminist egos were at their highest: my time=my domain was the simple rule.

I would rather not put it on god's mercy but my own "haath ka kamaal" for three superb attempts at the 'dosas' , peas curry and 'kovakkai'( tamil) or 'kundru'( ivy guard in english which I just found out courtesy the mighty google).

Having done this my parents left me at my mercy to experiment with the delightful world of tastes and smells.So my days at home, alone were spent in making rectangular,triangular,square 'chapattis' with roasted,cracked and rockhard variants of it. It was that fateful eve when I cooked a decent 'dal' all alone with instructions from my mother over the phone.Probably the fact that I managed to pull it off all on my own( without a vary eye from the sidelines) and that my father and his family appreciated it( being people of few words and praises) I decided to show my 'expertise' at it once again.

17-1-09

It was three days after Pongal and it just suited my fancy to make sweet pongal for myself and my friends( read: this is called overexcitement)

Having being completely confident of the recipe,which is easy let me assure you;I created the worst disaster ever in south indian history.

Learn how to burn ;) :-

250 gms rice and 100 gms moong dal to be cooked in a cooker with 31/2 cups of water

add 250gms milk and 200gms jaggery in it.

stir well and add dry fruits for taste.

How on earth it went wrong I still cannot fathom!!!!

It was dirt mud colour and well the taste ahem!! was burnt jaggery.

Yes, I am left with a sympathising friend, a bowl full of bitter something-that- gives- me-shivers-when-I-look-at-it,and utensils which shall keep me occupied for a week.

Take a look at it..Dont go by the chocolaty color of it or the fact that it tastes like bitter dark chocolate.It is neither.

Do I feel morose? Not at all..except for that longing friend of mine who was expecting me to spin out some miracle.On the other hand I expect a reprimand and a warning never to enter the kitchen again, at least alone!

Suits me!!!..as long as further 'hand for marriages' suggestions by the family doesnt come along for the 'poor 21 year old me' :D

With love....

29th July 2009 9:45 am

It pains me immensely to type this out..and the last thing that I would want is a post on my blog..

My beloved Thatha, K .Ramachandran breathed his last..May he be relieved of his long drawn suffering.May his soul rest in peace.

Walking Backwards

Entering the final year in college is quite a funny thing. On the one hand, I'm feeling sort of relieved to finally be at the fag end of my engineering life cycle. Not that I did not enjoy it while I was here, its just that there is such a thing known as TOO much studying (or engineering - whichever you prefer) and I'm glad to be moving on to bigger (and hopefully better) things. And so, while I sat back reminiscing on how time just flew by during my three years here, I realised how different this was from entering the 12th standard while in school. Okay, obviously it is quite different considering that one is associated with one's school for way longer than with one's college. But, it just made me ponder over how different we were then and how unrecognisable I would be to my former school self.
Its a very commong thing for students in school to fantasise about going to college and you know, having THE time of their lives. But I never really felt that way. I was quite happy in school and was in no hurry to get to college (yeah...I can hear you screaming NERD! but that's just how I was). Now, I went to an all girls' convent (one of the other reasons why people fail to comprehend why I wanted to stay in school :P). But, I think I can safely say that I did have a great time while in school, and I think I wouldn't be wrong if I said that sometimes, college doesn't even begin to compare to school. First up, kids in school have a way better idea about having fun than their counterparts in college. While in college, you'll need to shell out a great deal of dough to have a "fun" time - for eg. going for a movie, followed by food (or booze if that's your thing) and then finally crashing at a disc - whereas an average school kid has a great deal more fun than that by engaging in a highly adventurous and exhilarating bout of the - NEWSPAPER FIGHT! Kids know how to enjoy the simple things in life - something we lose to the Levi's and the Lee Coopers when we get to college. Oh,and the yearly ritual of the school picnic - ours was a toss-up between either Nehru Park or the Lodhi Garden (I still remember grimacing whenever I heard that we were going to either of those two AGAIN)- was totally something else. I still remember the way we used to gape and joke (quite rudely) at the "uncles and aunties" trying to well, have an excursion of their own in the bushes while in the park. Oh, and the ultimate weapon of destruction, the FRISBEE could be seen flying all over the place with adrenaline-charged kids running after it for all their life's worth.
As far as studies went, well I might sound vain when I say this but me and Mallika(co-conspirator and partner in crime) were pretty much the "teacher's pets" in the most biblical sense of the word. Though I might add that I wasn't as neurotic and nerve-wrecked as she was ( she was more like the teachers' lap dog :P), still I did have my "nerdy" moments (and its really not as bad and geeky as it sounds - instant gratification never hurt anyone :D). This obviously singled us out as the class enemies and we had our classmates plotting and scheming to turn us against each other(divide and rule personified) in ways that would put Ekta Kapoor and her entire brigade of vamps to shame. So, I had people coming up to me saying how egoistic and nerdy Mallika was, and people would go up to her and chime about how I had told them a "non-veg" joke (biggest crime that one could get penalised for in the SIXTH grade) which was obviously an apt reflection of my "poor" character :P. But, in the end, I guess Harry Potter sealed our friendship forever (nobody could get through something as sanctimonious as THAT). And finally, in the ninth grade, we committed the ultimate act of treason - we BUNKED class ( although unintentionally, though I usually leave out this minor detail - doesn't sound as cool :P). The teachers were in shock as if their worst nightmares had somehow come to life. But, still we got through unscathed (though I'm not too sure about Mallika - she seemed to be having a nervous breakdown and a panic attack at the same time - I looked quite callous next to her :D) and managed to retain our dignity too, till of course the time when we recounted this incident during our 12th standard assembly to the principal's horror (I was quite smug though :P).
There are too many memories attached with school - the chemistry lab for instance - our lab attendant tearing his hair out at the amount of salt we took for our experiments ("salt khaana hai kya?"), and that one fateful day when I managed to break a beaker, a pipette and a test-tube within a span of 20 minutes (the attendant said he had never seen somebody wreak so much havoc during the 25 years that he had spent in the lab). Then, there was that one time in the tenth grade, when I yawned right in the face of the maths teacher ( I was in the front seat and I didn't even bother to cover my mouth). She obviously got the hint, but she went on (I've never felt so ignored in my life :D). Oh, and then during Chemistry class in the 11th grade with Mr. Khilnani (the only male teacher in our school - poor guy- not that he deserved any pity, the tyrant that he was). I really needed to go the loo and it seemed like the class just wouldn't end. Of course, it didn't help that he was teaching about "fluid pressure" during the class.
So, I guess that's enough about my rant about school. I could not have asked for a better school experience than the one I had at Mater Dei. But, more importantly, I don't think that it would have been as memorable without Potter (yep, that's what Mallika was in school...though I'm not too sure now :D). All the fun we had, the experiences we shared, all the fights and then the making up...everything just forms a very colourful mosaic which will always be a part of my life.

School really is cool.

Nikhita

I had a vision..

I have got over my phase of viewing reruns of episodes of my favourite superhero- Superman. However somewhere in the subconscious he still dwells….and probably that was why I recently dreamt of having X-ray vision. Now, one wouldn’t want to ponder on what are the advantages..ahem of having this peculiar boon but this has definitely made me open my eyes to the vision, I lack (leave alone X-ray; I don’t have the normal night vision too). I hear that constant cackle of complaints around me against bad haircuts, dentist nightmares or for the matter of fact- the chubby syndrome( a polite term for the obese). I on the other hand feel as if the whole world around me is a bad television.

Having stuck in this myopic stage since a tender age; my eyes have been caged behind frames of a myriad kind. Having a deep disgust and disregard for them, my ‘callousness’ ensured that they never lasted too long(read: losing them in water; I guess you wouldn't want the details.... or getting repeatedly smacked on the face till they fall off etc etc..) How I wished it was the same with the ‘geek’ and ‘nerd’ name-calling.

And as I broke another pair and ruined my lenses(unintentionally of course ; wink) I realized it had its advantages too…

1.       You can always look through certain unwanted entities and if confronted can blame it on bad vision.

2.       You can avoid work (people ‘politely’ refuse to let you carry things around, college blackboard not visible=no need to take down notes).

3.       Source of pity…a way to get attention (you need to squint in an orderly fashion to convince).

However my reader’s will agree with me that nothing’s better than to see the world in its full colour and grandeur with the miracle that has been bestowed upon us…as Ruskin Bond truly puts it…”The eyes have it”.

Gossip Girl(s)

I've been living in the hostel for almost three years now and I thought it worth my while to document a widespread affliction amongst girls viz. gossiping. Now, the dictionary defines gossip as "casual or unconstrained conversation or reports about other people, typically involving details that are not confirmed as being true", but in the hostel it becomes much more.
Now, the victims of gossip are of myriad kinds, but the ones who act "too big for their shoes" or the ones who are oh-so "la-di-dah" are the preferred ones. Any girl with exceptionally good hair or a flawless complexion or an attractive physique or anything remotely good about her will undoubtedly become the butt of various speculative conversations, the main aim of which is, without exception, to list her hitherto non-existent "flaws". So, somebody with good hair might actually be talking to 4 different boys at odd times during the night, information courtesy "the girl's room-mate's friend's room-mate's sister who is a junior and is living nowhere close to the girl in question" , but surprisingly we are ready to believe such a "reliable" source with such vicious faith - its actually quite cruel. In fact, there's nothing more macabre than watching a group of girls gossiping away to glory, the result being that somebody who was "miss goody-two-shoes" till yesterday might now be referred to as a "wolf in sheep's skin". You have good skin? - you must definitely be having exceptionally intolerable B.O. ; you have a good dressing sense?- it obviously means you have an attitude problem; have a good physique?- liposuction anyone?; you get good grades? - you use people as a ladder to get to the top; you name it - they have something on you to bring you down. Now, you might be thinking that gossiping is limited to those out to get each other - you could not be more wrong! Its amazing how much your best friend talks about you behind your back and rest assured - she's not eulogising you. I have to hand it to such girls though - the kind of things they can gauge just by giving you a cursory glance - "oh the one with the silver earrings? Yeah, she's a kleptomaniac" - they don't even know your name yet. So, this is an ode to all those girls who gossip to spice up their otherwise monotonous lives - character-assasination being their sport of choice!

Nikhita

The Inside Story

As part of the college magazine team I have been working on some editorials for the past month.During the course of putting together various articles and scrapping away quite a few(read: tearing my hair over them),I decided to put up one article which has been inspired by most of my own experiences as well as inputs from my enthusiastic friends.I gave the title as The Inside Story...

THE   INSIDE   STORY

 

Here’s to a different take on what actually occupies the inner recesses of the mind of students during lectures, labs and seminars at our college( or I should rightly state that “the general trend observed in that similar species called engineering college goe-er’s”;  wink).

The precautionary tagline comes henceforth as the picture does not seem too rosy .The sea of students who appear…mind; just appear to be engulfing knowledge are actually  being bogged down with some pretty disturbing thoughts. After having spoken to a good number of students( who of course want their identity to remain anonymous) I jotted down a few  of their ponderings……

 

 

@ Lectures

Lectures mean a lot to our students and when I approached them with this question the responses that I got….

 

1.       “Excuse me???? What??!!!”

(Apparently suffered from the temporary ‘ I am ignoring you by acting deaf’ syndrome..hehe)

2.       “OFF; OFF; OFF!!!!”

(That anthem which soothes the ears.Wonder how the chaotic noise from different sources at different pitches, sound to that one silent , dignified source which receives it??????)

3.       “Yawn!! If Sir walks this way wake me up..”

(Read: My eyelids won’t remain open even if I  crowbarred toothpicks into them.

Conclusion: Bachi hui(or not) neend ko pura karna)

4.       “Why has the attendance sheet not been circulated till now?”

(After all, a platform to exercise new handwriting styles..hope you caught the drift.)

5.       “I am a little loaded today…Aye please take it off …21 ki proxy laga na!!!!

(That effervescent personality comes bubbling to the surface at this point of time.The most awaited activity during.. or wait!! Should I say at the end of the lectures.)

6.       “Oh yaar!! Roll no. nikal gaya….maam; maam”

(For those beauties who went the snoring way)

7.       “Hollywood-Bollywood, Bingo,  Zero-Crosses, Name-Place-Animal-Thing, Sudoku”

(Yipee!!! Recreation hour.)

8.       “ Pass the journal sheets.(By whispering or via chit system.)”

(Rate of writing is directly proportional to rate of speaking of the lecturer in class.)

9.       X: - “Bluetooth on kar na.”

Y: - “Can’t you wait a minute. I am texting.”

(Proven: - The cellphone ought not to be exposed to children; snigger)

10.   V: - “I didn’t understand this particular equation”

(Grinding teeth; the one who is accidently paying attention in class today)

W: - “Which unit is going on?”

(Grinding teeth ;Grinding chalk and giving murderous glares to V.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

@ Labs

Labs are crucial. So we found our correspondents a little sober and grim but they assured us that there have been and will be good old memories…

 

1.       “Kya karna hai? What is going on? What is this scary looking equipment?”

(The usual clueless state. I am willing to assume it as lack of sleep.)

2.       “Do bunk ho gaye; pause for harassed look; will I be there in defaulters?”

(Something to converse upon since the experiments are nowhere near to penetrating the head.)

3.       “Cut, Copy, Paste.”

(Comp to comp or pendrive to comp…stealthily or unabashedly.)

4.       “Two hours…groan!!! Stomach is grumbling.”

(For the foodie, who is currently drooling over her fantasy puff from the canteen.)

5.       “That bright sun; the clouds so white; that blue bird.”

( Nature and technology in sync. Read: experiment is still not penetrating the head.)

6.       “Patch cord tails!!!!  hehe”

(Experiment just refuses to enter the head.)

7.       “The hands of the clock move so slowly!!!!”

( To blame on universal laws and curse the general fate.)

8.       “ Why  are so many corrections in journals given?”

(Makes you get up from your unfinished sleep and mutter curses under your breath. As it is you are not able to configure the experiment and are depending on some reliable source. So this provides ample time pass for two hours.)

9.       “ Maam excuse me from the lab. It is urgent.”

( With a spring in the step our person visits the washroom, empties and refills the water bottles and does general time pass in front of the notice-boards.)

10.   M: -“Copy maar na readings; teach me later on how we went about it.”

N : - “Maam told me to press this button and that; toh phir kar diya(sheepish grin).

(Conclusion: - Bang your head on the wall. Experiment has not been understood by any living soul in the lab, even the reliable source.)

Black

I've blacked out.

The inner recesses of my mind has been bogged with black for sometime now.As the world whirls past me,the black stays,like a blur,reflecting a deep thought in my black eyes.

I run my fingers along my black locks thinking of the times when I have felt elevated listening to Pearl Jam's 'Black'. The rhythm, so strong,Vedder's voice so powerful, that it takes me into the black realms and when I close my eyes the world vanishes into oblivion.

And sometimes when darkness falls and it is black, I see myself in fear.Fear of the unknown,yet to come or the past which creeps along like a venomous snake.

The time when the world is at my feet and smiling to myself, all I can see is the black beyond;untouched and yet to be conquered.

When the void,the vaccum brings about serenity in the soul or the mourning which cleaves the mind to fragments.The world captured in black which mystifies its very being.The silence and the chaos.

The black which sometimes  makes me radiate the positive, empowers me.

Pearl Jam's Black

Sheets of empty canvas 

Untouched sheets of clay 
Were laid spread out before me 
As her body once did 
All five horizons 
Revolved around her soul 
As the earth to the sun 
Now the air I tasted and breathed 
Has taken a turn 
Ooh and all I taught her was everything 
Ooh I know she gave me all that she wore 
And now my bitter hands 
Chafe beneath the clouds 
Of what was everything 
Oh the pictures have 
All been washed in black 
Tattooed everything 
I take a walk outside 
I'm surrounded by 
Some kids at play 
I can feel their laughter 
So why do I sear 
Oh, and twisted thoughts that spin 
Round my head 
I'm spinning 
Oh, I'm spinning 
How quick the sun can, drop away... 
And now my bitter hands 
Cradle broken glass 
Of what was everything 
All the pictures had 
All been washed in black 
Tattooed everything 

All along I lived in a rainbow world,bright and sunny loving all the hues which made life so colourful. But somewhere I forgot the 'hueless', the one which brings with it the completeness.