What is happening with Radio advertising these days? Consider this IDBI ad I heard today.
Voice over (VO): Sir, what number do you like?
Punjabi Accent: No 9
VO: Sir, what number do you like?
Tamil accent: Aiyyo No 9
And more crap…and finally
VO: Everybody likes No 9 because now IDBI gives you loans at 9% interest
Consider another gem:
Woman 1: XYZ bought jewelry from Ddamas for her wedding
Woman 2: Really??? And where are they going for the honeymoon?
Woman 1: Her hubby wants to go to Timbuktoo but XYZ wants to go to D’damas
*Indulgent laughter from the ladies*
And they call it ‘jewelery for the living”??? It’s more like jewelery for the (brain)dead.
Do these ad makers or the marketing team that approves of these ads really think that we the listeners are that dumb? God, this is an insult to my intelligence and makes me mad. In one fell swoop you are condemning all Bangaloreans as morons.
This is the crap that I get to hear in the car everyday to the office. Nowadays we preempt the ad with our own words and giggle our way to work. Quite a change from the sleepy silence that used to hang like a blanket inside the car. In the process we have all become good friends and have forged a common bond as the car pool fraternity.
Now if that was the intention of the ad maker in the first place then he has succeeded. These atrocious jingles, though an absolute personal attack on your intelligence, grab your attention due to its ludicrousness.
But if I am going to apply for a loan in the near future then I will make sure that I give IDBI the skip, because I don’t want their marketing team to think that the ad has bought them revenues and go ahead and make more such brainsick jingles. And neither am I shopping at D’damas, because they have insulted me and the entire female populace of Bangalore.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Musing
"I wan't afraid of being born, then why should I be afraid of death."
This is what I told a friend when she asked me if I was afraid of death. Come to think of it both are the same isn't it? A journey into the unknown. Now that I am here, let me make the best of it. Dunno if I will get to have a blast after death.
This is what I told a friend when she asked me if I was afraid of death. Come to think of it both are the same isn't it? A journey into the unknown. Now that I am here, let me make the best of it. Dunno if I will get to have a blast after death.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Life and times of an Indian kid
Today we had some visitors over. It was a couple with two kids, a boy and a girl. The children were well behaved. My Dad doesn’t like well behaved children. It’s not like he likes brats, but he hates the regimented children who sit like trained circus animals, answering your questions perfectly. Apart from the mandatory wishing of elders he never believed in strictly controlling our every move. He would rather leave us at home than taking us along when my parents went visiting because he knew that sitting down while the adults made polite conversation was torture for us. My Mom didn’t agree, because she thought we should learn to move around in society. But my Dad was in no mood to make us trained animals. That’s his viewpoint and I know many people will disagree to it. But I am thankful that unlike my friends we didn’t have to go through the painful process of ‘visiting’ people. And for all purposes we have turned out alright.
I cannot but help notice the strange relationship of parents and kids because there are a fair number of young parents in my family circle and among my colleagues and neighborhood etc. From my observations of parents and kids I have noticed something.
From the time the child starts walking he is taught to sit down quietly, behave himself viz do things according to the approval of his parents and not give them to much hassle, do home work, sleep early etc. It is a military barracks kind of life style for most kids nowadays. Parents seem to go through the motions of parenting and kids are trained in such a way that they don’t hassle their parents too much. You rarely see parents and kids sitting together for a game of Scrabble or cards, or parents getting involved in their child’s hobbies or interests. In fact these are discouraged or encouraged with an eye to a career in the same field like say music. How many Dads play football or cricket with their children on a weekend? ( Mine did in case you are wondering) How many families talk?
Most Indian parents I notice, are like caretakers of their kids. Children are herded and directed like sheep in a strictly controlled environment of school, homework, TV sleep routine till they get a job. After which the parents, feeling all accomplished take a break from parenting. And in this routine the child’s individuality, hopes, ambitions, desires etc is mercilessly brushed aside and he becomes just another person joining the workforce, earning a living, paying his house EMI marrying, having kids and restarting the parent/kid cycle.
I cannot but help notice the strange relationship of parents and kids because there are a fair number of young parents in my family circle and among my colleagues and neighborhood etc. From my observations of parents and kids I have noticed something.
From the time the child starts walking he is taught to sit down quietly, behave himself viz do things according to the approval of his parents and not give them to much hassle, do home work, sleep early etc. It is a military barracks kind of life style for most kids nowadays. Parents seem to go through the motions of parenting and kids are trained in such a way that they don’t hassle their parents too much. You rarely see parents and kids sitting together for a game of Scrabble or cards, or parents getting involved in their child’s hobbies or interests. In fact these are discouraged or encouraged with an eye to a career in the same field like say music. How many Dads play football or cricket with their children on a weekend? ( Mine did in case you are wondering) How many families talk?
Most Indian parents I notice, are like caretakers of their kids. Children are herded and directed like sheep in a strictly controlled environment of school, homework, TV sleep routine till they get a job. After which the parents, feeling all accomplished take a break from parenting. And in this routine the child’s individuality, hopes, ambitions, desires etc is mercilessly brushed aside and he becomes just another person joining the workforce, earning a living, paying his house EMI marrying, having kids and restarting the parent/kid cycle.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Just another day
Today I read a thought povoking post by Quills at Save Kerala and the subject is related to something I was planning to write for a long time. Then I decided against it because I thought it was futile to write more about something that all of us read about regularly and have even begun to ignore as it one of those subjects like, outdated laws that does not have an immediate remedy.
But after reading Quills article I thought I will write about an ordinary day in the life of an Indian girl…something that most guys in this country don’t know about.
From the time we girls grow up and start looking like women, life becomes hell. Till then life is carefree, at least for most of us. We learn very early in life that ‘Men” are bad. We are warned about ‘Men” and we learn by experience that these warnings had better be taken very seriously. From walking on the road to shopping, is not a routine activity for us as it is for guys. From the time we step out of the house, our life is fraught with danger. We have to bear with men trying to brush against us, or touch us or follow us, making lewd suggestions, cars slowing and keeping pace with us to have a good look etc. We learn to IGNORE these with practiced efficiency from a young age. We learn to steel ourselves and walk by with our eyes away whenever we pass a group of guys. We learn never to walk alone. Which is why you see girls walking in pairs or in groups. The conditioning begins very early.
Our mothers are on tenterhook from the time we are born to the day we get married. They cannot leave us in the house alone and we rarely move around after dark alone. From birth to grey hair we live on high alert. There are so many unwritten rules and regulations that we have to follow to see that we do not become yet another statistic.
One of my memories from college, is keeping books and files or bags in front of us as a shield and walking, to avoid the painful hits on the chest by men coming from the opposite direction. And this happens daily if you are not alert and it is a painful and humiliating experience. And these are decent looking guys, not the illiterates who are better behaved than their ‘educated’ brethren.
I nearly get run over when I walk on the road by Auto fellows, bikers and car ridden men trying to get their thrill by driving as close as possible to me. And this happens “daily”. And this is not because I am a Miss India look-alike, but because I am a girl. We learn to walk on the footpath because on the road we are open game for bikers to brush past. Our reflexes are razor sharp while driving because of bikers who try to scare us by suddenly coming in front of us making us to brake hard or swerve wildly. And this too happens daily.
When I look at the elderly ladies walking on the road I feel so much envy and I long for that day when I too will walk like them without being brushed against, stared and whistled at. And that is not happening for a long time I know.
For the girls working in IT companies, strict laws against sexual harassment keep us safe. For the girls working in other places, life and career progression is very difficult unless they have the dexterity of a Matador to avoid male colleague’s predatorial designs.
And all this happens in a free, democratic country famed for its family values. This happens in a country where a woman is the honor of the family.
And this my dear gentlemen of this country, is just another ordinary day in us girls lives.
For the women of India who make up 50% of the population, democracy does not exist.
But after reading Quills article I thought I will write about an ordinary day in the life of an Indian girl…something that most guys in this country don’t know about.
From the time we girls grow up and start looking like women, life becomes hell. Till then life is carefree, at least for most of us. We learn very early in life that ‘Men” are bad. We are warned about ‘Men” and we learn by experience that these warnings had better be taken very seriously. From walking on the road to shopping, is not a routine activity for us as it is for guys. From the time we step out of the house, our life is fraught with danger. We have to bear with men trying to brush against us, or touch us or follow us, making lewd suggestions, cars slowing and keeping pace with us to have a good look etc. We learn to IGNORE these with practiced efficiency from a young age. We learn to steel ourselves and walk by with our eyes away whenever we pass a group of guys. We learn never to walk alone. Which is why you see girls walking in pairs or in groups. The conditioning begins very early.
Our mothers are on tenterhook from the time we are born to the day we get married. They cannot leave us in the house alone and we rarely move around after dark alone. From birth to grey hair we live on high alert. There are so many unwritten rules and regulations that we have to follow to see that we do not become yet another statistic.
One of my memories from college, is keeping books and files or bags in front of us as a shield and walking, to avoid the painful hits on the chest by men coming from the opposite direction. And this happens daily if you are not alert and it is a painful and humiliating experience. And these are decent looking guys, not the illiterates who are better behaved than their ‘educated’ brethren.
I nearly get run over when I walk on the road by Auto fellows, bikers and car ridden men trying to get their thrill by driving as close as possible to me. And this happens “daily”. And this is not because I am a Miss India look-alike, but because I am a girl. We learn to walk on the footpath because on the road we are open game for bikers to brush past. Our reflexes are razor sharp while driving because of bikers who try to scare us by suddenly coming in front of us making us to brake hard or swerve wildly. And this too happens daily.
When I look at the elderly ladies walking on the road I feel so much envy and I long for that day when I too will walk like them without being brushed against, stared and whistled at. And that is not happening for a long time I know.
For the girls working in IT companies, strict laws against sexual harassment keep us safe. For the girls working in other places, life and career progression is very difficult unless they have the dexterity of a Matador to avoid male colleague’s predatorial designs.
And all this happens in a free, democratic country famed for its family values. This happens in a country where a woman is the honor of the family.
And this my dear gentlemen of this country, is just another ordinary day in us girls lives.
For the women of India who make up 50% of the population, democracy does not exist.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
The needle in the haystack
I was watching the Guinness Book of World Record yesterday and one of the amazing feats that they showed was the first successful Craniopagus separation of conjoined twins Vilija and Vatalija Tamulevicius. The procedure was carried out by a Russian surgeon who specializes in brain surgery and later, the reconstruction of their skulls was done by an American surgeon. As I was watching this programme I could not help but feel tremendous admiration for these doctors. They are the Robin Hood and Gulliver’s of modern day world. They fight intricate battles that require skill, presence of mind and oodles of experience.
And then it dawned on me suddenly that had these guys been Indians, they would not stand a chance getting a medical seat let alone acquire the level of expertise they have now. Their skills and aptitude for the profession would be ignored. They would have to buy that seat or be a Reserved Caste person or be lucky to clear the entrance exam from among the multitudes. Their talents would be lost to the world because being a doctor is just another job in this country. And because it is just another job, just about everybody wants to be a doctor. And in this melee many people genuinely interested in being doctors and treating people are lost.
This is not a rant about Reservation. If there are people in the reserved category who can make good doctors then more power to them. I for one frankly don’t care whether my doc is high caste or low caste. When it comes to my health I want someone who knows what he is doing and is sincere about helping me. But let’s face it, when I go to a doctor today all I see is an individual who was lucky to get that seat while the doctor regards me as just another consultation fee and if he is business savvy then more money by sending patients to cooperative labs and hospitals for unnecessary medical tests and caesareans. It is an unhealthy vicious cycle.
How many of us will here go to an unknown doctor without enquiring about him or being referred by someone who trusts him? He is an MBBS and is registered under IMA. Then why do we hesitate? Because we are not certain about the doctor and his intentions or his antecedents. Because have heard horror stories of doctors who overcharge or kill or maim their patients. We do not trust a doctor implicitly. Ironic isn’t it that a man who has cleared his exams and is a certified doctor has to pass another test i.e. the trust of the people? If the selection of medical students was fair and based on merit and aptitude then all of us would blindly trust anyone with a Dr. prefixed to his name.
The fact that I am sitting here in good health and typing this post hoodwinking my boss into thinking that I am writing a brochure is because there is a Doctor Mathew who makes sure of that. A man who is perhaps more qualified to be a doctor than most of his brethren because ‘medicine’ is not a mere profession for him and the crowd that throng his clinic is testimony to that fact. His consultation charge was only Rs 10/- till protests by patients like me made him revise it rather apologetically to Rs. 20/- for people who can pay. For the poor he gives free medicine or charges a token fee. The result? He gets a plethora of patients with all kinds of problems that an upmarket physician will never see in his lifetime gaining him experience and expertise far beyond what most doctors will get in their entire lifetimes.
Another doctor nearby, sits swatting flies because he charges Rs 50 for consultation alone because of the word MD after his name. Guess who makes more money? Guess who takes his profession as a calling and who takes it as a mere money spinner?
Ask those doctors joining Call Centers by the drove where they failed. They will give you many reasons but if they were to only act as doctors and not business men by taking a genuine interest in their patients and lowering their consultation fees, maybe, just maybe they could have survived as GP’s. But most of these gentlemen are in a hurry to make money and end up frustrated when that doesn’t happen. Today doctors who have climbed down their high horses and charge lower consultation fees are doing well. Because there are patients out there, enough for every doctor to make a decent living that is if they are willing to be satisfied with a decent living.
But then you cannot blame them entirely can you? He joined this profession because it was a job and not because medicine excited him or the thought of alleviating people’s suffering moved him.
And then it dawned on me suddenly that had these guys been Indians, they would not stand a chance getting a medical seat let alone acquire the level of expertise they have now. Their skills and aptitude for the profession would be ignored. They would have to buy that seat or be a Reserved Caste person or be lucky to clear the entrance exam from among the multitudes. Their talents would be lost to the world because being a doctor is just another job in this country. And because it is just another job, just about everybody wants to be a doctor. And in this melee many people genuinely interested in being doctors and treating people are lost.
This is not a rant about Reservation. If there are people in the reserved category who can make good doctors then more power to them. I for one frankly don’t care whether my doc is high caste or low caste. When it comes to my health I want someone who knows what he is doing and is sincere about helping me. But let’s face it, when I go to a doctor today all I see is an individual who was lucky to get that seat while the doctor regards me as just another consultation fee and if he is business savvy then more money by sending patients to cooperative labs and hospitals for unnecessary medical tests and caesareans. It is an unhealthy vicious cycle.
How many of us will here go to an unknown doctor without enquiring about him or being referred by someone who trusts him? He is an MBBS and is registered under IMA. Then why do we hesitate? Because we are not certain about the doctor and his intentions or his antecedents. Because have heard horror stories of doctors who overcharge or kill or maim their patients. We do not trust a doctor implicitly. Ironic isn’t it that a man who has cleared his exams and is a certified doctor has to pass another test i.e. the trust of the people? If the selection of medical students was fair and based on merit and aptitude then all of us would blindly trust anyone with a Dr. prefixed to his name.
The fact that I am sitting here in good health and typing this post hoodwinking my boss into thinking that I am writing a brochure is because there is a Doctor Mathew who makes sure of that. A man who is perhaps more qualified to be a doctor than most of his brethren because ‘medicine’ is not a mere profession for him and the crowd that throng his clinic is testimony to that fact. His consultation charge was only Rs 10/- till protests by patients like me made him revise it rather apologetically to Rs. 20/- for people who can pay. For the poor he gives free medicine or charges a token fee. The result? He gets a plethora of patients with all kinds of problems that an upmarket physician will never see in his lifetime gaining him experience and expertise far beyond what most doctors will get in their entire lifetimes.
Another doctor nearby, sits swatting flies because he charges Rs 50 for consultation alone because of the word MD after his name. Guess who makes more money? Guess who takes his profession as a calling and who takes it as a mere money spinner?
Ask those doctors joining Call Centers by the drove where they failed. They will give you many reasons but if they were to only act as doctors and not business men by taking a genuine interest in their patients and lowering their consultation fees, maybe, just maybe they could have survived as GP’s. But most of these gentlemen are in a hurry to make money and end up frustrated when that doesn’t happen. Today doctors who have climbed down their high horses and charge lower consultation fees are doing well. Because there are patients out there, enough for every doctor to make a decent living that is if they are willing to be satisfied with a decent living.
But then you cannot blame them entirely can you? He joined this profession because it was a job and not because medicine excited him or the thought of alleviating people’s suffering moved him.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Counting my blessings
“Women have been the bane of my professional life and men of my personal life”
SP
This eloquent sentence was uttered by my friend SP as we sat talking about nothing in particular.
What she meant was that she had hell with women bosses in her professional life and some really mean men in her personal life like her father and husband.
SP always speaks from the heart, as you can see from that quote above and nurtured that habit in me when I, as a rather wet behind the ears trainee copywriter was placed under her charge. SP was my Creative Director and mentor and the most beautiful person at heart I have ever met. Within a month of joining the agency she removed the ‘trainee’ tag and made me a regular Copywriter, even though I would drop into the agency only on Saturdays. She is an amazingly talented lady and now serves in a ‘Communications’ post in an IT company like most ex copywriters. Her exit from the advertising scene is a huge loss for the ad world, a world which is not even aware of it, or if they are aware, they don’t care. We became the best of friends despite the difference in our age. The friendship continues to this day and it is something that I never forget to thank God for.
SP was the force behind ‘Poomanam’. She is the one who pushed me into blogging. She would watch me goofing around in the agency, making caricatures of ads and people in our weekly newsletter and would tell me, “You must blog”. When I asked her why, she would say “A blog is the perfect medium for you. You are spontaneous and do not follow any fixed pattern in anything …you do your own thing and blogging will give you the freedom to write without censure that you crave so much. So for a person like you a blog is the perfect medium.”
In fact she suggested “freespirit’ as a name for my bog, which I ‘characteristically’ turned down. She was not surprised! :p
When I finally made my blog under the name ‘Poomanam’, she said dryly ‘ I don’t think even God could have guessed it!”
She monitors every single post of mine and gives her comments quickly and mercilessly, but with a clause… that I don’t react to criticism or praise. In my profession where writing dry marketing collaterals can sap even the most gifted individual, blogging has recharged me and kept the creative part in me alive. I may not be the best, I may be the worst, but I can proudly say today that I have always written for myself.
I realize that over the years, I have adopted her as my elder sister and like close biological siblings I can trust her blindly. She is Gods compensation for not giving me a sister. I have always admired the bond between my mom and her sisters. They are always there for each other through thick and thin and I realize that I would never have that because I don’t have a sister. The bond between sisters is very unique.
SP is also the only person besides my elder brother who can give me a ticking off when I do something that may not be potentially right. Between the two of them they have managed to give me enough freedom to do what I like, reserving the right to intervene when they think fit. And it is these two people, whose judgment I trust implicitly.
Today I am counting my blessings and SP I am sure you were my sister in my last birth, because I cannot think of plausible explanation for the kind of relationship we have.
Thank you!
SP
This eloquent sentence was uttered by my friend SP as we sat talking about nothing in particular.
What she meant was that she had hell with women bosses in her professional life and some really mean men in her personal life like her father and husband.
SP always speaks from the heart, as you can see from that quote above and nurtured that habit in me when I, as a rather wet behind the ears trainee copywriter was placed under her charge. SP was my Creative Director and mentor and the most beautiful person at heart I have ever met. Within a month of joining the agency she removed the ‘trainee’ tag and made me a regular Copywriter, even though I would drop into the agency only on Saturdays. She is an amazingly talented lady and now serves in a ‘Communications’ post in an IT company like most ex copywriters. Her exit from the advertising scene is a huge loss for the ad world, a world which is not even aware of it, or if they are aware, they don’t care. We became the best of friends despite the difference in our age. The friendship continues to this day and it is something that I never forget to thank God for.
SP was the force behind ‘Poomanam’. She is the one who pushed me into blogging. She would watch me goofing around in the agency, making caricatures of ads and people in our weekly newsletter and would tell me, “You must blog”. When I asked her why, she would say “A blog is the perfect medium for you. You are spontaneous and do not follow any fixed pattern in anything …you do your own thing and blogging will give you the freedom to write without censure that you crave so much. So for a person like you a blog is the perfect medium.”
In fact she suggested “freespirit’ as a name for my bog, which I ‘characteristically’ turned down. She was not surprised! :p
When I finally made my blog under the name ‘Poomanam’, she said dryly ‘ I don’t think even God could have guessed it!”
She monitors every single post of mine and gives her comments quickly and mercilessly, but with a clause… that I don’t react to criticism or praise. In my profession where writing dry marketing collaterals can sap even the most gifted individual, blogging has recharged me and kept the creative part in me alive. I may not be the best, I may be the worst, but I can proudly say today that I have always written for myself.
I realize that over the years, I have adopted her as my elder sister and like close biological siblings I can trust her blindly. She is Gods compensation for not giving me a sister. I have always admired the bond between my mom and her sisters. They are always there for each other through thick and thin and I realize that I would never have that because I don’t have a sister. The bond between sisters is very unique.
SP is also the only person besides my elder brother who can give me a ticking off when I do something that may not be potentially right. Between the two of them they have managed to give me enough freedom to do what I like, reserving the right to intervene when they think fit. And it is these two people, whose judgment I trust implicitly.
Today I am counting my blessings and SP I am sure you were my sister in my last birth, because I cannot think of plausible explanation for the kind of relationship we have.
Thank you!
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Prepared with love
Angel Doc tagged me. I am supposed to list ten dishes that I miss from my moms cooking. However since I live with my parents I will list ten things that is my favorite amongst her preparations.
My Mom is a workaholic. She loves to putter around the house and will be doing something even when she is watching TV …like cleaning garlic, or skinning baby onions or knitting/embroidery. You will never see her idle for one minute. She is the first to get up in the morning and last to sleep in the house. She has enormous amount of energy and spends all that energy into looking after the house and cooking for us. She has an envious collection of Cookery Books many of them sent by one of her sister abroad, besides the Tarla Dalals, Thangam Philips, Karen Anands etc.
I think I get the stubborn streak to master stuff from her. She doesn’t mind walking into restaurant kitchens and asking for recipes and would attend every single cookery course in town when were little kids. And then she would try out what she had learnt at home. You can call her a Jack of all cuisines, master of some :)
However it is her naadan cuisine that I like best, because she makes it the traditional way. She still uses the grinding stone (the maid does the grinding though) and she cooks everything from scratch. This means dry roasting the Coriander Seeds and Chillies etc. and then grinding it to a fine paste on the grinding stone.
So some of the stuff she makes that I love are…
Kerala Egg Curry
This is made with coconut milk and the main flavoring is Aniseeds. I like it with lots of potatoes. As a kid I was a fussy eater with no appetite, but this curry would somehow stimulate an appetite in me :) It still remains my all time favorite with rice. This doubles up as an accompaniment for Appams too.
Payasam
She will sit for hours stirring the third extract of coconut milk, then the second and then the first, the traditional way to make the most delicious prathaman. Whether it is pal payasam or prathaman, she makes it just perfect.
Kuzhalappam
This is another back breaking thing to make if you are doing it the traditional way. Rice is soaked, powdered and roasted and flavored with garlic and coconut and rolled out into discs which are folded into a cylinder and deep fried to make a thin and very crispy savory snack. Yum!!
Fish Curry
The traditional Kerala fish curry with coconut milk and kudampulli. No matter how much I try, it never comes out the way she makes it.
Jackfruit and Tapioca
She makes the most wonderful jackfruit and tapioca preparation which is a main course that you eat with her yummy Fish Curry or Kerala style Beef Curry in coconut milk. *drool*
Vattayappam
Mom uses tender coconut for this melt in the mouth cottony delicacy. And she makes it with both Jaggery and Sugar as my brothers like it with sugar while me and Dad prefer the traditional jaggery sweetening. For Maundy Thursday she makes these vattayappams with a Cross, cut out of the Palm that is distributed on Palm Sunday. Dad cuts the appam after the Maundy Thursday service and it is eaten with the traditional Pesaha Paalu. This denotes the bread and wine that Jesus shared with his disciples. This tradition is enacted in all mallu Catholic homes as a re enactment of the Last Supper.
Christmas Cake
She
is an expert in making Xmas cake. I do the honor of making the wine every January so that it is ready by December. The dried fruits for the cake are bought in October and we all help to cut the dried fruits, which is then kept in a plastic container with a bottle of rum poured over. By first week of December it would be ready to be added to the Cake. The cake would be traditionally made in the first week of December, as it crumbles when cut soon after baking. After Christmas Mass, the cake would be cut and then only do we open the Christmas presents. It takes oodles of will power to keep off the cake till then. But then Mom cheated and made a small one for us to have before Christmas day :) This cake stays forever and ever if prepared hygienically. Every bite is sinfully rich loaded with raisins, figs, dates and other goodies soaked in rum.
Tandoori Chicken
I am not very partial to baked goodies so I will bypass the Cakes and Bakes and go into the meatier section of this tag :) My mom marinates the meats for our barbecues and the marinade is the best I have tasted. Her Tandoori Malai chicken is world famous in our house.
Chicken Biryani
My Moms good friend, a Mangalorean Muslim lady taught her to make Biryani. And my Mom makes it really well. It is the typical Bangalore Biryani and not the Hyderabad type where rice and meat is layered and cooked. The Bangalore Biryani has a strong taste of garlic and the ingredients are cooked together. Delicious with Raita.
Appam and Stew
My Mom makes the softest Appams. She makes it the traditional way, i.e with Kallu which is freely available in Bangalore. If the Kallu is not available then she uses Bakers Yeast and never dried yeast. Since we are a big family, Appam making is a collective effort. A four burner stove and four Appam chatis makes sure that no one has to wait. I get mine with an egg on top :)
All this is making me hungry, so let me tag a few people to do this mouthwatering tag before I go in for dinner.
I tag Mind Curry, Ganja Turtle, Aashik, Dhanush, Pophabhi, Jiby and Mathew
You dont have to post pictrures guys, just a mouthwatering description will do. Heck...you just have to describe, we will do the mouthwatering :)) :)
My Mom is a workaholic. She loves to putter around the house and will be doing something even when she is watching TV …like cleaning garlic, or skinning baby onions or knitting/embroidery. You will never see her idle for one minute. She is the first to get up in the morning and last to sleep in the house. She has enormous amount of energy and spends all that energy into looking after the house and cooking for us. She has an envious collection of Cookery Books many of them sent by one of her sister abroad, besides the Tarla Dalals, Thangam Philips, Karen Anands etc.
I think I get the stubborn streak to master stuff from her. She doesn’t mind walking into restaurant kitchens and asking for recipes and would attend every single cookery course in town when were little kids. And then she would try out what she had learnt at home. You can call her a Jack of all cuisines, master of some :)
However it is her naadan cuisine that I like best, because she makes it the traditional way. She still uses the grinding stone (the maid does the grinding though) and she cooks everything from scratch. This means dry roasting the Coriander Seeds and Chillies etc. and then grinding it to a fine paste on the grinding stone.
So some of the stuff she makes that I love are…
Kerala Egg Curry
This is made with coconut milk and the main flavoring is Aniseeds. I like it with lots of potatoes. As a kid I was a fussy eater with no appetite, but this curry would somehow stimulate an appetite in me :) It still remains my all time favorite with rice. This doubles up as an accompaniment for Appams too.
Payasam
She will sit for hours stirring the third extract of coconut milk, then the second and then the first, the traditional way to make the most delicious prathaman. Whether it is pal payasam or prathaman, she makes it just perfect.Kuzhalappam
This is another back breaking thing to make if you are doing it the traditional way. Rice is soaked, powdered and roasted and flavored with garlic and coconut and rolled out into discs which are folded into a cylinder and deep fried to make a thin and very crispy savory snack. Yum!!
Fish Curry
The traditional Kerala fish curry with coconut milk and kudampulli. No matter how much I try, it never comes out the way she makes it.
Jackfruit and Tapioca
She makes the most wonderful jackfruit and tapioca preparation which is a main course that you eat with her yummy Fish Curry or Kerala style Beef Curry in coconut milk. *drool*
Vattayappam
Mom uses tender coconut for this melt in the mouth cottony delicacy. And she makes it with both Jaggery and Sugar as my brothers like it with sugar while me and Dad prefer the traditional jaggery sweetening. For Maundy Thursday she makes these vattayappams with a Cross, cut out of the Palm that is distributed on Palm Sunday. Dad cuts the appam after the Maundy Thursday service and it is eaten with the traditional Pesaha Paalu. This denotes the bread and wine that Jesus shared with his disciples. This tradition is enacted in all mallu Catholic homes as a re enactment of the Last Supper.
Christmas Cake
She
is an expert in making Xmas cake. I do the honor of making the wine every January so that it is ready by December. The dried fruits for the cake are bought in October and we all help to cut the dried fruits, which is then kept in a plastic container with a bottle of rum poured over. By first week of December it would be ready to be added to the Cake. The cake would be traditionally made in the first week of December, as it crumbles when cut soon after baking. After Christmas Mass, the cake would be cut and then only do we open the Christmas presents. It takes oodles of will power to keep off the cake till then. But then Mom cheated and made a small one for us to have before Christmas day :) This cake stays forever and ever if prepared hygienically. Every bite is sinfully rich loaded with raisins, figs, dates and other goodies soaked in rum.Tandoori Chicken
I am not very partial to baked goodies so I will bypass the Cakes and Bakes and go into the meatier section of this tag :) My mom marinates the meats for our barbecues and the marinade is the best I have tasted. Her Tandoori Malai chicken is world famous in our house.Chicken Biryani
My Moms good friend, a Mangalorean Muslim lady taught her to make Biryani. And my Mom makes it really well. It is the typical Bangalore Biryani and not the Hyderabad type where rice and meat is layered and cooked. The Bangalore Biryani has a strong taste of garlic and the ingredients are cooked together. Delicious with Raita.Appam and Stew
My Mom makes the softest Appams. She makes it the traditional way, i.e with Kallu which is freely available in Bangalore. If the Kallu is not available then she uses Bakers Yeast and never dried yeast. Since we are a big family, Appam making is a collective effort. A four burner stove and four Appam chatis makes sure that no one has to wait. I get mine with an egg on top :)All this is making me hungry, so let me tag a few people to do this mouthwatering tag before I go in for dinner.
I tag Mind Curry, Ganja Turtle, Aashik, Dhanush, Pophabhi, Jiby and Mathew
You dont have to post pictrures guys, just a mouthwatering description will do. Heck...you just have to describe, we will do the mouthwatering :)) :)
Friday, July 14, 2006
Little somethings about myself :)
I took up this rather interesting Tag from Aashik.
1. How tall are you?
5' 6"
2. Do you own a gun?
Does a water gun count?
3. Rehab? Counseling?
Yes please, I need rehab and counseling for "overwork" :(
4. Have you ever killed an animal?
No
5. Are you Irish?
I can be anything you want me to be baby ;)
6. What do you think of hot dogs?
Yummy with my additional garnishings
7. What's your favorite Christmas song?
O Holy Night
8. What is your favorite smell?
Mangoes and Jackfruit :)
9. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
Tea
10. Do you do push ups?
Yes... I push myself up from bed every morning :p
11. Have you ever done ecstasy?
The drug: No... but the feeling I have experienced many times ...like when I get my Salary :)
12. Have you been shot?
With a camera... many times
13. Have you ever been hospitalized?
Yeah
14. Do you like pain killers?
Yes, when I am in pain :p
15. What is your secret weapon to lure in your preferred sex?
It won't be a secret if I reveal it would it? ;)
16. Do you own a knife?
Plenty
17. Do you have A.D.D?
If it is Attention Deficit Disorder..then my teachers would say “Yes!!!”
18. Do you love the pain a tattoo brings?
I don’t have one and am not gonna get one. The pain my mom would bring me would be far more excruciating than the pain of the needle brrrr
19. Name Five Drinks You Regularly Drink:
Water. Tea. ,Coffee., Musambi Juice, Milk, Lassi
20. What's In Your CD Player?
Yanni
21. Who is your best friend?
Aiyyo!!! You want me to get lynched?
22. What's Under Your Bed?
My doggies, till I am asleep, then they get on the bed and push me under :(
23. Current Hair?
I am having a bad hair day grrrrrrrrr
24. What are you wearing?
Jeans and Tees, today is Friday yipeeee!!!!
25. Current worry?
I have several deadlines today, Sales Newsletters, Customer Newsletters, Internal Newsletter, Dealer Newsletter... shall I go on? *bawl*
26. Current Love?
My neighbors Labrador puppy
27. Current Hate?
The monsters who blew up the Mumbai trains!!
28. Favorite Place To Be?
Home!
29. Least favorite place to Be?
On the road when it is raining.
30. If You Could Play an Instrument, what would it be?
Violin
31. Favorite Colors?
Blue, Green and anything according to my mood
32. Person From Your Past You Wish You Could be with Right Now?
Sunitha, my best friend and my Grandpa
33. Where Would You Like To Go?
Home, wish I could stay at home today.
34. Where do you want to live?
At home now, later near my parents.
35. Favorite food?
Anything Mom makes, plus Italian, Chinese and Salads
36. Color of most clothes you own?
Black, Browns, Reds etc
37. Number of pillows you sleep with?
Two
38. What do you wear when you go to sleep?
Shorts and Tees in summer and Pajama set other wise.
39. What were you doing 10 years ago?
Bunking classes and having loads of fun!!!
40. What do you think you'll be doing in 10 years?
Probably working full time in my Dad’s business.
41. Are you paranoid?
In certain matters...yes
42. First piercing/tattoo?
At age 8 months I think. Got my ears pierced.
43. Last person you yelled at?
My doggy for rushing in and out of the room, and getting entangled in the computer wires.
44. Latest crush?
Crushed some peppers today :p
45. Last thing you ate?
Breakfast
46. If you could be a pirate, would you?
Oh yes!!!
47. Do you have an Ipod?
Yeah!
49. What's in your pockets right now?
Nothing...pants too tight :p
50. What color are your bedroom walls?
Shell pink
51. Last thing that made you laugh?
A sarcastic remark on Achumama by my Dad
52. Any pets now?
Three dogs
53. Inny or an outty?
Dunno what this means.
54. Do you have any piercing?
Ears
55. If you were a crayon what color would you be?
Pink
56. Have you ever won any awards?
Yes
57. How many TV's do you have in your house?
Four
58. Have you ever sprained/broken/fractured a bone or gotten stitches?
Broke my hand once.
59. If you could live next door to any one person of your choosing, who'd it be?
My relations in Kerala. I want them closer.
60. If you could have any one wish granted, what would it be?
That all terrorists blow themselves up with the explosives they are carrying
61. If you could pick one person to make out with who would it be?
Someone I love
62. What do you think of the person who posted this before you?
He is my blogpal whom I harass from time to time on Google chat :)
63. Your Screen Name?
Silverine
64. What's your middle Name?
Teresa
( anybody who laughs at No. 64 will meet with a gory end I PROMISE grrrr)
:)
1. How tall are you?
5' 6"
2. Do you own a gun?
Does a water gun count?
3. Rehab? Counseling?
Yes please, I need rehab and counseling for "overwork" :(
4. Have you ever killed an animal?
No
5. Are you Irish?
I can be anything you want me to be baby ;)
6. What do you think of hot dogs?
Yummy with my additional garnishings
7. What's your favorite Christmas song?
O Holy Night
8. What is your favorite smell?
Mangoes and Jackfruit :)
9. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
Tea
10. Do you do push ups?
Yes... I push myself up from bed every morning :p
11. Have you ever done ecstasy?
The drug: No... but the feeling I have experienced many times ...like when I get my Salary :)
12. Have you been shot?
With a camera... many times
13. Have you ever been hospitalized?
Yeah
14. Do you like pain killers?
Yes, when I am in pain :p
15. What is your secret weapon to lure in your preferred sex?
It won't be a secret if I reveal it would it? ;)
16. Do you own a knife?
Plenty
17. Do you have A.D.D?
If it is Attention Deficit Disorder..then my teachers would say “Yes!!!”
18. Do you love the pain a tattoo brings?
I don’t have one and am not gonna get one. The pain my mom would bring me would be far more excruciating than the pain of the needle brrrr
19. Name Five Drinks You Regularly Drink:
Water. Tea. ,Coffee., Musambi Juice, Milk, Lassi
20. What's In Your CD Player?
Yanni
21. Who is your best friend?
Aiyyo!!! You want me to get lynched?
22. What's Under Your Bed?
My doggies, till I am asleep, then they get on the bed and push me under :(
23. Current Hair?
I am having a bad hair day grrrrrrrrr
24. What are you wearing?
Jeans and Tees, today is Friday yipeeee!!!!
25. Current worry?
I have several deadlines today, Sales Newsletters, Customer Newsletters, Internal Newsletter, Dealer Newsletter... shall I go on? *bawl*
26. Current Love?
My neighbors Labrador puppy
27. Current Hate?
The monsters who blew up the Mumbai trains!!
28. Favorite Place To Be?
Home!
29. Least favorite place to Be?
On the road when it is raining.
30. If You Could Play an Instrument, what would it be?
Violin
31. Favorite Colors?
Blue, Green and anything according to my mood
32. Person From Your Past You Wish You Could be with Right Now?
Sunitha, my best friend and my Grandpa
33. Where Would You Like To Go?
Home, wish I could stay at home today.
34. Where do you want to live?
At home now, later near my parents.
35. Favorite food?
Anything Mom makes, plus Italian, Chinese and Salads
36. Color of most clothes you own?
Black, Browns, Reds etc
37. Number of pillows you sleep with?
Two
38. What do you wear when you go to sleep?
Shorts and Tees in summer and Pajama set other wise.
39. What were you doing 10 years ago?
Bunking classes and having loads of fun!!!
40. What do you think you'll be doing in 10 years?
Probably working full time in my Dad’s business.
41. Are you paranoid?
In certain matters...yes
42. First piercing/tattoo?
At age 8 months I think. Got my ears pierced.
43. Last person you yelled at?
My doggy for rushing in and out of the room, and getting entangled in the computer wires.
44. Latest crush?
Crushed some peppers today :p
45. Last thing you ate?
Breakfast
46. If you could be a pirate, would you?
Oh yes!!!
47. Do you have an Ipod?
Yeah!
49. What's in your pockets right now?
Nothing...pants too tight :p
50. What color are your bedroom walls?
Shell pink
51. Last thing that made you laugh?
A sarcastic remark on Achumama by my Dad
52. Any pets now?
Three dogs
53. Inny or an outty?
Dunno what this means.
54. Do you have any piercing?
Ears
55. If you were a crayon what color would you be?
Pink
56. Have you ever won any awards?
Yes
57. How many TV's do you have in your house?
Four
58. Have you ever sprained/broken/fractured a bone or gotten stitches?
Broke my hand once.
59. If you could live next door to any one person of your choosing, who'd it be?
My relations in Kerala. I want them closer.
60. If you could have any one wish granted, what would it be?
That all terrorists blow themselves up with the explosives they are carrying
61. If you could pick one person to make out with who would it be?
Someone I love
62. What do you think of the person who posted this before you?
He is my blogpal whom I harass from time to time on Google chat :)
63. Your Screen Name?
Silverine
64. What's your middle Name?
Teresa
( anybody who laughs at No. 64 will meet with a gory end I PROMISE grrrr)
:)
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Home is where the heart is...
Down the street from where I live, live an old couple. Mr and Mrs George. After retirement they had settled down in Bangalore, as their children were studying here. Uncle is 86 years old. Aunty died last month. They have lived a better part of their retired life alone after their kids migrated to the US. Since there are so many mallu families in my area, they never felt the pinch of not having anyone around them. Then age began to catch up and soon, they were unable to go out and visit friends and relatives or for their evening strolls.
A son came back and arranged for an elderly Anglo Indian lady to look after them. We rarely saw them out as they were mostly confined to the house. On our visits to check on them, they would talk wistfully of Kerala, their childhood and happy times there. Uncle used to regale us so many stories about his childhood, the thrilling adventures that he and his friends embarked on and the naughty childhood pranks. Their ardent wish was to be buried there, next to their parents and siblings. But that was not possible as they had left their village many decades ago. A visit to Kerala was ruled out because they were too frail for the journey. Aunty and Uncle's last wish was always to go back to their village one last time.
Nowadays when I go for my evening walks with the dogs, I can see Uncle hunched in front of the TV or being served dinner. I drop in from time to time with some Pavakkai thoran …uncles favorite and his eyes will light up. He hates the soup, the lady makes. When I say my byes shouting goodnight into his ears, I feel so helpless to see the loneliness in his eyes. When I got back from Kerala last month, he was so excited to hear about the place. I didn’t tell him of the rampant construction and fast vanishing greenery. I told him that the place was the same and his bleary eyes glazed as he imagined the Kerala of his childhood and youth.
For aunt’s funeral, there was a large contingent of relatives from Kerala to bid her final farewell. After the funeral I did what I like most, i.e. walk around the peaceful cemetery. The place is so well kept with so many trees. The atmosphere is peaceful. There is a fair sprinkling of mallu names on the tombstones. People who had left their home and hearth many years ago to find work, respect, dignity and a productive life outside their home state, wistfully hoping to return in their lifetime.
How many such dreams are buried here I wonder.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
The spirit of the game...beer!
There is deathly silence in my house today. Quite a contrast to yesterday, when a whole bunch guys landed up here, the two friends circles of both brothers. So, there were the married types (eldest brother's friends) trying to pacify disgruntled wives over their mobiles and the merry bachelors (second brother's friends) making numerous sorties to liquor shops and stacking the fridge with beer. The occasion? The Quarter Final matches that they were going to watch on the giant screen installed in the lawns.
Normally my house is crawling with guys but yesterday there were too many. Two diversely opposite groups who normally avoid each other by having their Friday get together in opposite ends of the house. There were guys looking at the skies and fretting over the cloud formation while there were some who kept opening the fridge from time to time, as though by checking up on the beer would make it chill faster. ( and they call us gals fussy!!!)
The roads were deserted by 8 pm and me and the doggies had the full run of the street for some quality time together. I got back to see Portugal and England battling it out in what seemed a really tough game. What was interesting was the crowd watching the match on the giant screen. Everyone was wearing the colors of the team they were supporting. So both teams had fair support. My Dad and his card group were sitting timidly, a safe distance away for they risked getting crushed by guys jumping up and down and cursing and shouting and spilling beer. The general atmosphere was charged and one could feel the tension in the air. It was interesting to watch the match and the emotions it evoked and the emotions in the wake of the aftermath of the match. The English supporters were dejected while the Portuguese supporters were jubilant and doing some kind of dance to celebrate on the lawn.
The crowd had their food and was ready for the next cliffhanger...Brazil Vs France. By this time I decided to sleep. However sleep was interrupted by sudden shouts and I rushed out from time to time to see that the score was still 0-0. Somewhere in some ungodly hour I was shaken awake by my brother telling me that the match was over. I went out groggily to see one section of the crowd sitting in stunned silence while another was jumping up and down. France had won *Yawn*.
I went back to sleep and got up to an unnatural silence today. Except my mom and the maids everyone is fast asleep. There are bodies everywhere, there is one guy sleeping outside in front of the giant screen bottle still in hand. And there are some on the sofa, while most of them are stretched out on the verandah on the mattresses hired for the day (they thought of everything).
Guess it will be a peaceful Sunday today.
Normally my house is crawling with guys but yesterday there were too many. Two diversely opposite groups who normally avoid each other by having their Friday get together in opposite ends of the house. There were guys looking at the skies and fretting over the cloud formation while there were some who kept opening the fridge from time to time, as though by checking up on the beer would make it chill faster. ( and they call us gals fussy!!!)
The roads were deserted by 8 pm and me and the doggies had the full run of the street for some quality time together. I got back to see Portugal and England battling it out in what seemed a really tough game. What was interesting was the crowd watching the match on the giant screen. Everyone was wearing the colors of the team they were supporting. So both teams had fair support. My Dad and his card group were sitting timidly, a safe distance away for they risked getting crushed by guys jumping up and down and cursing and shouting and spilling beer. The general atmosphere was charged and one could feel the tension in the air. It was interesting to watch the match and the emotions it evoked and the emotions in the wake of the aftermath of the match. The English supporters were dejected while the Portuguese supporters were jubilant and doing some kind of dance to celebrate on the lawn.
The crowd had their food and was ready for the next cliffhanger...Brazil Vs France. By this time I decided to sleep. However sleep was interrupted by sudden shouts and I rushed out from time to time to see that the score was still 0-0. Somewhere in some ungodly hour I was shaken awake by my brother telling me that the match was over. I went out groggily to see one section of the crowd sitting in stunned silence while another was jumping up and down. France had won *Yawn*.
I went back to sleep and got up to an unnatural silence today. Except my mom and the maids everyone is fast asleep. There are bodies everywhere, there is one guy sleeping outside in front of the giant screen bottle still in hand. And there are some on the sofa, while most of them are stretched out on the verandah on the mattresses hired for the day (they thought of everything).
Guess it will be a peaceful Sunday today.
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