Response to A Love Poem, A Response

(Something I wrote a while back. Posting it now inspired by A Love Poem, A Response)

The stories within stories...the underlying layers, the things that you might actually want to say, the core, the flesh, the pulse that lends the tremble to your voice as you narrate, try to narrate in a matter-of-fact way, things that you have shared before without experiencing the catharsis that might help in scattering the pain for a while.

The stories are the same...pain, loss, nostalgia. The situations are perhaps different...there are a thousand and one ways in which something could be complicated. But the fact that everyone else is experiencing the same thing does not do anything to quell the intensity of your emotions. Not like you don't want to share what is behind the tremble, but how do you put into words something that is only physically palpable?

If I could reach out and hug you, I am sure the tremble might ease. But why is something as simple as a hug so difficult to initiate? For now, all I do is walk beside you and listen. Trapped in my own incertitude, I deprive you of the one gesture that I know can initiate the comfort that you so deserve. 

Also called a bucket list...

Career: Write a thesis worth publishing Teach at the university in Istanbul Teach at Duke  Teach and live in Paris Integrate interests in culture, revolt, food, art, etc, along the lines of this: http://www.conflictkitchen.org/	Might be a job someday:  Learn scuba diving Go deep-sea diving  Learn swimming Learn to dance- well Perform on stage  Drive on a highway Ride a bike Become a confident cook Explore food as a cultural artefact  Make a good documentary movie Explore films; genre-wise  Cultivate a vegetable garden  Grow my own herbs Learn to kill, clean, and cook seafood
Adventure: Experience different habitats- forest, desert, ocean Live in extreme climes Pose naked Go bungee jumping Go river rafting Go rappelling Climb a mountain  Live for a year as a part of a community in an isolated place  Live in an igloo Float in the Dead Sea Experience living together with a partner Get pregnant  Experience giving birth Raise kids	Could not classify: Live with nanna Become comfortable with unfamiliar tastes- or become comfortable with the lack of comfort  Handle jealousy Take mom to see the Wimbledon Create a Tamil library for papa Eat at Heston Blumenthal’s restaurant Live in Europe Live in a place where I can go for a walk, alone, at 2 am

on the babel myth

"the confusion of tongues is not to be explained as diversification or change of language in our sense of the term. The commentators explain it, not as a new creation but as a reshuffling of letters and sound by God and the attribution of new meanings to old words- thus ensuring a mutual lack of comprehension."- A.Ewert

how to make mutton biryani at home a.k.a how to put a weekend to productive use

cloistered at home with an upset stomach and the internet for company, i spent an entire day lusting after pics of mutton biryani. when the weekend happened, and with a chef-in-the-making for company, could not resist the temptation to try out cooking biryani at home. here is a photo documentation:

we began with arranging all the ingredients, chopping board and other paraphernalia around ourselves. trust me, makes for a great picture. sample this:

then it was chop, cut, grind, till we had all the ingredients for the marinade.
what we added:

next, mixed all the ingredients, with a lot of devotion (for a demonstration of what that means, look here)and stuck the marinated mutton into the fridge for some 4 hours, or till we could stand the delay no longer, though i would suggest sticking to the 4 hour time period. and when you remove the mutton from the fridge, do note the change in color.

this is before we stuck the mutton into the fridge:

and this...

is after.

next, we took a thick bottomed pan, and placed the meat right at the bottom (if you are using raw meat like we did, instead of cooking it till 3/4ths done before adding it to the rice, add a good amount of oil to the meat while marinating it). this was the first layer.

then the second layer, of rice and a final layer of rice marginally more cooked than the one in the second layer. separated the two with some mint, coriander and fried onions. finally, what we had is this:

after coming this far, now, you have to forget all about the biryani and let it cook, slowly. (don't forget to seal the pot with some dough to seal the flavours in). after a good 30 minutes, crack open the dough and, well...indulge :)

tip: DO NOT go overboard with the mint and the coriander as we, ok, as i did, gave a bitterish taste to the biryani.

also, half the fun of the process was the partner. what with the advice and the i-told-you-so's and the gleam in the eye...intoxication is twice as pleasurable when shared ;)

oh! and the final product... :)

on popular demand, invitations to the next biryani weekend will be posted ;)

intimacy

the small things that indicate intimacy...

...the shortening of a name
...the ease with which touch is initiated and received
...the seeping in of a person's likes and dislikes into one's memory
...the knowledge of someone's schedule

the myriad small things that draw us together in a circle cut-off from the rest...the small things that establish "us".

"am I a chauvinist?"

"am I a chauvinist?" he asked
she thought of the
pleasurable sex and
shared child-rearing and
long hours of conversation and
decisions taken together and
the feeling of being free and married and
his supportive presence during a crisis
and more of the same
and said "no"

at which his shoulders relaxed
and he heaved a suppressed
sigh of relief...
lest it be audible.

journeys

Lines expand into roads
Objects, people, places
Fantasies turn into memories
And go either the regret or the
Am-thankful-for-this way

Strangers into friends and lovers
Days largely into in-betweens
As life fills up with transformations
Some unexpected, some prayed for
Chance always seems to have the best laugh