Surprise

Tulika was having an exceptionally good day. Everyone got out of bed in time. Her husband didn’t leave the newspaper in the loo. She could button up the very first pair of pants she wore. No one spilled half eaten food or drinks on her. Even her temperamental car started at the very first go. A rare, brilliant start.

Amoy her ten-year-old did give her a scare from the backseat, saying he left his math homework at home. He found it and it passed. She sighed and cranked up the radio and hummed along. She threw a quick look at her six-year-old daughter, Tara, who was being unusually angelic. She decided not to overanalyze it and crossed her fingers.

While waiting for the kids to get inside the school gates, she decided to check in with her boss and find out the status on the Singapore Project. He took the call on the very first ring and sounded terribly excited. The project was a success and he swore that this meant the long awaited promotion was hers.

Tulika smiled as she pulled away from the school, ‘ Hmmm, bliss.’ she murmured.

She dug into her huge bag and pulled out a Ziploc bag filled with some fruit, biscuits and a sandwich. She would soon pull into the traffic stop where she met a little girl everyday. The darling cherub looked around the same age as her daughter. She stood on the footpath everyday, offering to clean people’s cars with a dirty piece of cloth. A few weeks back Tulika had begun bringing her a packet of food, on her way to work.

The signal turned red and she stopped the car and looked out. The little girl skipped to the car and said ‘Good morning Madamji!’ Tulika smiled back and handed her the packet.

The little girl’s face lit up with delight. Every morning she looked as surprised as the first day.

And that’s when the sadness came.

Bon appétit!

2009 was a reasonably good year, lots of good stuff started and nothing too ghastly happened to me. Watching a wonderfully comforting film like ‘Julie and Julia’ on a cold december day was the perfect ending. Directed by Nora Ephron, it is the story of two women who love food, who love cooking and thank goodness, love writing. I shall not summarize the plot because I am recommending the movie and not rating it, I’ll just say Meryl Streep is brilliant as the great chef & author Julia Child and Amy Adams’ Julie is adorable.

The real Julie Powell claimed fame when she took up cooking 524 recipes from Julia Child’s first book, ''Mastering The Art of French Cooking" within 365 days in a tiny New York apartment (with a full time job) and blogged about the experience. Among other things, she went on to get a book and of course, a movie, deal for this remarkable effort.

The movie was a delectable feast for me not just because of the entire obsession with food in it but also because of how this passion suffused into the lives of the protagonists.

The kitchen has been such a huge part of the Indian woman’s life. But cooking four meals for huge demanding families everyday will take the magic out of food for anyone. I am, fortunately, from a generation, who finally, has a choice. I can often delegate the stove to my darling husband, the maid or the nearest take away. And knowing I have this choice makes cooking everyday, often twice a day, not much of a chore.

The time I spend alone in the kitchen simmering, stirring, seasoning and tasting are the closest I come to any form of meditation, my focus is rarely so centered. I could do it for hours without getting bored or tired. I love trying different kinds of food may it be in a gourmet restaurants or from a friend’s kitchen. While I eat, I try and figure out how a dish has been prepared and what has gone into it, through the aroma, texture and flavours. I would also, already, be imagining how I would cook it.

Even the psychology, biology and politics of food fascinate me. If I come across any food related show, my hand just freezes on the remote -may it be a serious news piece on how WTO policies affect food habits in the third world; a feature on organic farming; a frivolous cookery show; a series on cuisines and culinary histories from across the world. I am currently following a reality show with a food theme.

My enthusiasm and curiosity is such that a vegetarian from birth I started eating fish and meat simply because I could not bear missing out on all the gastronomic treats out there. The first time I tasted a simple dish of ricotta stuffed chicken breast, had my first sushi roll, had a slice of slow roasted lamb or felt the burst of flavours when I took the first bite of a Chorizo sausage – these were moments of revelation, I am so glad I did not miss. I still whole-heartedly enjoy all the lovely varied exciting vegetarian food around but now there is just so much more to love and relish.

I am not the only one afflicted with this madness, I have friends who discuss new and innovative recipes with me or describe a meal they had over international calls! So, I know there are food lovers like me out there who need to watch ‘Julie and Julia’ and see the most important thing in life being treated with the passion it deserves.

 

Bon appétit and a Happy New Year to all!

 

To be or not to be, again

It has been a strange couple of months... every friend I am talking to seems to be soul searching, being in a similar state of mind (usually, particularly now) I have wholeheartedly taken part in these discussions. Everyone seems to be tired of the rat race and the futile yearning for the unknown.

One friend, a writer, tells me that she is tired of all the inanity in life, the day to day plodding, stress to make the ends meet, I feel the same way (and the ends keep stretching apart). 

Another friend, a cinematographer told me that he is tired of doing mediocre work and the hope that someday he can give it all up and do the stuff he loves and enjoys (Same story, same story here). 

This evening a friend in a rather cushy corporate job was saying the very thing I have been thinking- if we keep toiling towards creating that perfect life when will get around to living it.

The way I see it, there are only two ways of doing it either we resign ourselves to our current lives and make the best of it and continue to crib (and secretly fantasise about how and when we will get out) or we get out and start living it just the way we want it (for life is indeed a bitch and then we do die). 

But darlings, the question is do we really know what we want? Do we have the guts to step out of this comforting cocoon (however inward looking) we have made for ourselves?  I am constantly saying I want to get out of the city but am I really ready to leave my bourgeoisie South Delhi life? Are we ready to give up the little luxuries and labels we have got used to and live a spare but soulful life? 

The great, Phillip Larkin comes to my rescue again and very succinctly sums up the dilemma: 

Toads

        - Philip Larkin

 

Why should I let the toad work


Squat on my life?


Can't I use my wit as a pitchfork


And drive the brute off?

 

Six days of the week it soils


With its sickening poison -


Just for paying a few bills!


That's out of proportion.

 

Lots of folk live on their wits:


Lecturers, lispers,


Losels, loblolly-men, louts -


They don't end as paupers;

 

Lots of folk live up lanes


With fires in a bucket,


Eat windfalls and tinned sardines -


They seem to like it.

 

Their nippers have got bare feet,


Their unspeakable wives


Are skinny as whippets - and yet


No one actually starves.

 

Ah, were I courageous enough


To shout Stuff your pension!


But I know, all too well, that's the stuff


That dreams are made on:

 

For something sufficiently toad-like


Squats in me, too;


Its hunkers are heavy as hard luck,


And cold as snow,

 

And will never allow me to blarney


My way to getting


The fame and the girl and the money


All at one sitting.

 

I don't say, one bodies the other


One's spiritual truth;


But I do say it's hard to lose either,


When you love both.

More to follow on this, along with more of the brilliant Philip Larkin.