- Is it possible to change the way AP thinks about Polvaram project(thanks to another blogger it is being noticed and hope we get an answer from govt)
- It possible for me to study at brooks next year?
- Will I be able to finance my trip to Aussie this year?
- Will I shake hands with camera and never let go?
- Will I get my son an admission in say a "good School"?
- Will I make a difference in Smile Bank?(a community I started in orkut,but did nothing)
- Is it possible for the News channels to showcase something worthwhile for a change?
- Is it possible for rapes,killings,crimes against humanity to stop for a min?
- Is it possible for me to be so intense in romance?
- Is it ....................................
Friday, January 26, 2007
is it??
the question asked is gotta do with many things...
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Back Home
I was not sure what to say when my love mentioned casually
"you will not miss me much when I am not around" ,All you do is see me sitting on the comp when u go to work"
Even though I did try and make sense while telling him that the sense of him being in town and back at home is all I have. Thanking the past 14 months.......I am thinking do we live in a world of sullen impulses...where a little light of faith hangs out there for you to catch it before it burns out....well if that is the case I surely do hope scrtly for him to stay put here..." Home is where the heart is"
I love the thought and kiss it everyday,that i am going back home to my love.is it just the thought that matters? I guess the presence does to..Looks like I am bound to these emotional possibilities for life and am I loving it? yes, sure do.Will it break my heart when they turn invisible? it sure would..........:(
"you will not miss me much when I am not around" ,All you do is see me sitting on the comp when u go to work"
Even though I did try and make sense while telling him that the sense of him being in town and back at home is all I have. Thanking the past 14 months.......I am thinking do we live in a world of sullen impulses...where a little light of faith hangs out there for you to catch it before it burns out....well if that is the case I surely do hope scrtly for him to stay put here..." Home is where the heart is"
I love the thought and kiss it everyday,that i am going back home to my love.is it just the thought that matters? I guess the presence does to..Looks like I am bound to these emotional possibilities for life and am I loving it? yes, sure do.Will it break my heart when they turn invisible? it sure would..........:(
Saturday, January 13, 2007
South Indian Summer
Summer brings back many childhood holiday memories. Summers meant no school; no home work and nothing to stop us have fun. We kids would wait for one ritual all the year. Pickle making, this was the grand celebration in our south Indian Brahmin family. Grandma was always ready to teach us everything about life through this ritual. Firstly we were bunch of rowdies all around. Every year pickles were supplied to us from her house. Right from avakai, magai and so on. The men of the family were in charge to cut the mangoes in different shapes.oh they come in all shapes blocks for avakai, strips for magai, grate few mangoes for another variety of pickle.
Mangoes, my uncles used to take pride in this cutting and peeling and grating. When you eat mango pickle the juices come mixed with every single piece and the smaller the piece the more masala it absorbs. They cracked jokes, got competitive and concentrated like a sumo wrestler with their weapons a knife and a cloth. They learnt to work as brothers and as a team in doing this. Oh how I miss it these days my very own family made mango pickle.
Women of the family were attired in their madi kattu (sari draped around in the Brahmin style).man they looked beautiful. I know all those who are familiar to these rituals are dying to go back and do them again. Ok aunts, moms grandma had they own duties sketched out and they followed them like an army of ants. When I eat pickle in another house I compare it to my house, each and every household has its own way of making a mango avakai.this formula is in the hands of the women folk of the family. This shows how united they are in sticking to a particular recipe this is passed on to generation from generations.
Then comes the most interesting part of all. Time for kiddies work. Armed with a white cloth and newspaper, we were in charge of cleaning the cut mango pieces. This way we could save the sweets pieces for later siesta time. Mind you though granny had an eye on us all the time. No stealing because if you did you get to miss the best part that is saved for the last. Looking back that was the best team building exercise my family taught us. Working together as a team, learning from seniors and so on.
I want the same to work for my son. He is in the age of ready made pickles. i feel he is missing out on bonding with elders, learning new tricks ,laughing with the huge extended family. Surviving in a team, managing a team. These experiences help us from BEING better personally and professionally. I love and yearn for my pickled summers.
Mangoes, my uncles used to take pride in this cutting and peeling and grating. When you eat mango pickle the juices come mixed with every single piece and the smaller the piece the more masala it absorbs. They cracked jokes, got competitive and concentrated like a sumo wrestler with their weapons a knife and a cloth. They learnt to work as brothers and as a team in doing this. Oh how I miss it these days my very own family made mango pickle.
Women of the family were attired in their madi kattu (sari draped around in the Brahmin style).man they looked beautiful. I know all those who are familiar to these rituals are dying to go back and do them again. Ok aunts, moms grandma had they own duties sketched out and they followed them like an army of ants. When I eat pickle in another house I compare it to my house, each and every household has its own way of making a mango avakai.this formula is in the hands of the women folk of the family. This shows how united they are in sticking to a particular recipe this is passed on to generation from generations.
Then comes the most interesting part of all. Time for kiddies work. Armed with a white cloth and newspaper, we were in charge of cleaning the cut mango pieces. This way we could save the sweets pieces for later siesta time. Mind you though granny had an eye on us all the time. No stealing because if you did you get to miss the best part that is saved for the last. Looking back that was the best team building exercise my family taught us. Working together as a team, learning from seniors and so on.
I want the same to work for my son. He is in the age of ready made pickles. i feel he is missing out on bonding with elders, learning new tricks ,laughing with the huge extended family. Surviving in a team, managing a team. These experiences help us from BEING better personally and professionally. I love and yearn for my pickled summers.
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