MYSTICAL

Human and human life is an unsolved mystery. How ever far you try to understand it, it gets  entangled in million tangles. One loop into another. The birth itself is a tangle. You wouldn't be free unless the cord is cut. The cut, sets you free to be a separate entity and to breathe but what awaits is the journey of emotional bonds and bondage. Why so? Why do you get tangled? The first touch, the first human touch, from where, begins the flow of warmth, this nectar, warms up your nerves with so much energy, that you keep on  rowing the boat of life.  Yes your journey has begun. Now you are not just a piece of flesh; you are now a son or a daughter. You might have a home, you might have guardians, you might be having mom, dad, grand parents or might even be having a sister or brother.( The entangling of loops.)  You are now entwined into the world of  care,caring and upbringing. The unconditional love entangles you into the first phase, the first  loop (Parental love). You are moving ahead, you are growing, you are a teen now, the law of attraction plays it's game thrusting you into another tangle the heart throbs. This is the second phase,the second loop,(the loop of  love or lust). The boat is rowing, you keep on moving towards the third phase of your journey, the journey into the wide world of experiences and exploration. You now try to untie the shackles of bond and bondages the first attempt of untangling. You feel like an achiever, proud of your attempts to untie the shackles but, unknowingly, you are binding into the bondages of another loop. The third loop (The loop of commitment). Yes now you're entangled into, to, begin a family of your own. You would now either be a wife or a husband. The journey now has come to a full circle; but you have to keep rowing you have to keep going. The tangles aren't untangled yet. From the picture of being a husband and a wife to parents and parental responsibilities the fourth phase begins. The fourth loop (The loop of Parenting) the tangles are now tightening it's grip on you, you love this tightening you enjoy the wriggle and slowly your focus turns to the grip; you are still feeling the breath and breathing, you feel at ease. That's when questions queries starts popping up why am I at ease why isn't the grip tightening? Is it the loop? Oh let me make it golden. Now you want a golden loop, no ordinary one will do, what if it breaks down? What if it's untangled? You weave the web of emotions spreading your eight arms, the arms love, warmth, care, bondings, sacrifices, adjustments, justification,and expectations. Expectations?? That's when the golden loop tightens further as expected by you, it tightens, it is tightening, but now, it's chocking you, you are suffocating, you are breathless. Once again you are trying to break open the shackles, but alas, the loop is golden now. No it won't break, it's fool proof. Tightened by the golden loop, you keep rowing, the boat of life, and that's when you enter the fifth phase, the phase of rejection, the phase of resentment, the phase of desolation. This is the final loop (The loop of acceptance).  You accept the entangling and tangles, you are in no mood to try to shrug it off, the shackles are tightening it's claws, the nectar flowing in your nerves has come down to its last drop it's no more giving you the energy, but, you will have to keep rowing. No, you have not reached the other end. It's far far away, daily you take a step forward and daily it rifts away, the waves of mystery and mystical sea just keep flowing.

The tides of this mystical sea keep striking on, it doesn't follow any calculations it takes away with it the most unexpected, Yes the most unexpected, what? did you question it, did you question it's decisions? no,! you can't, for its mystical it will never answer. Are you waiting for your turn to reach the other end? You must keep rowing the boat of life, you must, wait for your turn with unsolved questions and queries. You are numb now, you are spell bound, the mystical spell has been cast  the unbreakable spell. The spell of hope and aspirations, it's, taking you, again, to the land, called life. It's mystery and will remain mystical.

Label: Emotional expression 

N.B. 

This is a tribute to all my family members who took the journey of heavenly abode some in most unexpected way and time.

Pic courtesy:  Google pics

Bread Rolls

  Ingredients

1. White bread 🍞 1 loaf

2. Potatoes 1/2 kg

3. Chilli powder 1 teaspoon

4. Crushed coriander seeds 1 teaspoon

5. Crushed pepper corn 1 teaspoon

6. Cumin powder 1 teaspoon

7. Chat masala 1 teaspoon

8. Kala namak,( Black Rock Salt) 1 teaspoon 

9. Coriander leaves chopped two tablespoon

10 Aamchur powder (dried mango powder) 1/2 teaspoon

11. Hing  a pinch 

12. Turmeric powder 

13. Oil for frying

Method

Step -1.  

For filling- boil the potatoes and let it cool down, peel and mash with hand taking care to just crumble not to make a paste. Add all the spices, chopped coriander leaves, chat masala, amchur and kala namak. 

Step -2. 

Take out the bread slices and cut the sides( crust), take water in a shallow plate slightly dip and wet the bread slices, slowly squeeze out the water without breaking the bread slice. Keep the filling in the centre and fold into a cylindrical shape securing the filling and sealing the edges. Keep it aside. Make many more cylindrical roll in the same way with the rest of the bread pieces.

Step- 3. 

Heat a Khadai with enough oil for deep frying. Keep the flame on medium heat. Now slowly add the prepared cylindrical rolls, two rolls at a time and fry until crisp and brown. Drain out the excess oil and place it on a kitchen towel, fry out the remaining rolls in the same way.

Step - 4  

The bread rolls are ready to be served. Serve hot with tomato sauce or with coriander chutney.

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THE COAT

COAT

"What good is the warmth of summer without the cold of winter to give its sweetness"_ John Steinbeck

This quote fits perfectly for  mothers whose warmth and sweetness can never wither. My mind is once again wandering to the world of my childhood memories. Acchan during my early days used to work in a Private firm in Patna. We were there for almost six years. Thus our(me and my immediate sibling's) initial schooling was done in Patna before moving in to Kolkata. I only have some very faded memories of that place.  I just remember the mango tree in our garden which used to have very large mangoes,  Amma's mango ice cream, which we both sisters used to relish, to our hearts content, my school, and visits to Circus. Amma used to say that Patna's winter was very very harsh. It was spine chilling. To protect oneself from harsh winter chills one had to wear lots of warm woollen clothes. Thus, Amma too had a collection of warmers with her, and one of the best warmer which she had was a long woollen coat hanging down till her knees. It was a very pretty soft light blue colour coat, which, she carried with her to Kolkata. Large buttons, side pockets, inner pockets and front pockets. The collar too was very pretty with a beautiful cut out. The coat gave a glamorous look to Amma. As the trend was, on those days, she wasn't looking less than a "memsaab".

This particular asset was a marvel in her cupboard. Whenever we used to open 

her cupboard we would, flaunt it by our looks, and touch it with an eagerness to own the same from Amma one day.

As described in my earlier posts, my house in Kolkata was quite big with two long corridors and a big verandah (open terrace). Our kitchen was at the far end from the rest of the rooms, near the verandah. The olden Bengali  houses was constructed in a particular way wherein the kitchen, as well as the bathroom cum toilets would be having a separate entity from the entire house thus it would mostly be away from the main hall and bedrooms. Our kitchen too was situated to the far end corner of the house, near to the verandah. Summer was cool enough in the evenings and working in the kitchen too was awesome due to the mild cool winds blowing down from the verandah entering through the kitchen windows. But winters had a sheer opposite effect, this  cool winds were a real torture and working in kitchen with this chilling atmosphere was an exercise in itself. Poor Amma had to make all efforts to keep herself comfortable. She would keep the window closed, but since the kitchen door cannot be closed always she had to bear the chills. Most often she would make us( me and immediate sis; the other two being very small never used to be with us) sit around the stove while Amma cooks. The warmth from the burning stove was soothing. Earlier, one used to keep the kerosene stove on the ground and cooking mostly was done sitting. Rotis were usually made on a chulha. Chulha was a bucket shaped clay stove which was burnt with coal and wooden pieces and had to be kept on to the ground only. Amma would serve us the food in the kitchen making us sit comfortably near the chulha, hot rotis would be served to each one of us. The kitchen though small used to feel as heaven to us with the warmth from the chulha, as well as from Amma, comforting us from the chills outside.The whole day's tale, stories, happenings in school, all was shared here between Amma and us, cherishing the food.

The kitchen though situated at the far end of the house was also, an extension, of the long corridor. In front of the kitchen, in the corridor, was kept a long bench, with  a small table for dining. This small dining was an arrangement for our busiest Acchan, by Amma, who would atleast sit for a while waiting for his breakfast or lunch and thus a small chit-chat with Amma. This seating arrangements were a boon for our neighbours too, visiting Amma. They would relax in the wee hours, sitting, chatting and listening to their favourite Ceylon Radio 📻. Amma too would relax sometimes sitting on this bench waiting for the cooker's whistle, waiting for the rice to boil etc.  Most welcoming part was the wait by us children to see Amma relaxing in the evenings. The wait was to cling around Amma. 

Now coming to my story part the 🧥 coat was so beautiful that Amma was hesitant in  wearing the same, and because of it's English look(Angrezi memsaab), Amma never encouraged herself on wearing the same anywhere outside.  As days flew by we grew into teens and my younger siblings into adolescents. The 🧥 coat in the cupboard too was gaining age with each passing year alongwith Amma. But Amma never wore it. Acchan always used to ask her to wear the same to protect herself from the harsh winds blowing outside the kitchen from the Verandah. But her passion and the concept of safequarding the things, shrugged her off, from wearing it, however far, she tried to. Every winter season were a torture to Amma, who would spend most of her time in kitchen with barely one sweater or shawl. My third sibling was very thin and weak with breathing problems so she would always be clinging to Amma. Amma used to pamper and take care of her a lot. In winters, the chill would become dangerous for our little sister, because, of her chest congestion and breathing problems. As my sister couldn't be kept away from Amma, the 🧥 coat turned out to be a boon to her. Amma finally allowed her 🧥 coat to wander outside the cupboard. The coat got a place, it was once again found hanging down, from Amma's body in a very passionate way. Our chutki would be kept covered completely, sitting on the lap of Amma, underneath the coat. We used to envy her and would wait for our turns to cling to Amma when she would be sitting on the bench relaxing.

As the saying goes, that mother knows all, Amma too would call out to us, and would make us all cling to her and she, just like the mother hen, would gather us all four underneath the 🧥 coat and would cover us up from harsh winter winds blowing outside. That precious moments, I cannot put into words here. It was sheer bliss a heaven and heavenly warmth which no heater can provide you. Still craving for that warmth.

It's a blessing to me that my Amma is still there with all of us. But as said, age and health issues has taken a toll on her.

Amma's look still give us the same warmth no matter how old we become.

Pic courtesy: Google photos 

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ULLIYUM MULAKUM ARCHATU

Mushroom

Ingredients

1. Mushroom 1/2 kg

2. Shallots 1 cup

3. Whole red chillies 4

4. Curry leaves a few

5. Cocunut oil a tablespoon

6. Salt to taste

7. Turmeric powder

8. Water for cooking 1 glass

Method

Wash and clean the mushrooms nicely. Cut or pinch the mushrooms to small pieces. Grind together shallots and whole red chillies to a paste in a mixer grinder or stone grinder.

Remove and keep aside. In clay pot or a steel pan cook the mushrooms  with turmeric powder, salt and a glass of water. When cooked add the grinded shallots chilli paste and cook for another five minutes. Add the curry leaves and coconut oil. Serve hot with boiled red rice.

Pic courtesy : Google images.

Lable : authentic cooking 

THE GRANDEUR

THE GRANDEUR 

Dhumbataka taka taka taka....taka.... dudhum dudhum....dhumbataka......taka...taka...sound of Dhak. "Maa aaschhe Maa eesechhe Durga Durga," were the voices/noices emitting from the houses and buildings around, all heads hanging out from windows, verandah, terrace and balconies. The roads,  the by lanes all jam packed Maa is arriving to her " Baaper Badi",  these are the sound of acknowledgement of warm welcome to her and to her four children Maa Saraswati, Maa Lakhi, Sri Ganesha and Sri Kartikeya. 

Maa Durga idols are brought to the Puja Pandals on the evening of Panchami in tempos and trucks, with the beating of the Dhak, with the echoing  of "Durga mai ki jai" shank naad, with the clanging of thal and with the emitting purified dhuni smokes.  Standing in my balcony I used to watch all this admist the hulla bulla, the arrival of the year- long awaited festival,

 "THE DURGA PUJA".

The Dhak or dhol is a huge drum used during the Aarti in Puja Pandals. Durga Puja is the most important and incredible festival of Bengal,and especially  Bengalees. The sound of dhak is so overwhelming that it overpowers your senses and makes you sway to its dhun (sound) these overwhelming sound were emitting from every nook and corner of my para(area)from all the Puja Pandals, within a span of rarely 1 km. Loud speakers, light and lighting, would make the area live and lively for a span of six days, where the night merges with the day. The long awaited festival comes every year, with loads and loads of the challenges to the organisers(The Puja Committees). The Puja Pandals and the idol of Maa Durga,  were created and decorated in a special way with each and every Pandal being unique in itself, for, these Pandals and idols set an example and were always into competition with the other Pandals and also with other areas. Thus a real challenge to the idol makers as well as to the Pandal decorater.  Bengalis are creative people with creative mind so the Pandals are all mind blowing with incredible imagination. 

This was, and is, my favourite festival and I longingly wait for it the whole year. The spirit of Puja begins a month before the actual Puja day, shopping being the major part. In context to shopping, village melas too were organised in different parts of the city. Six days of self deck ups adoring oneself,  you have to look your best. "Notun kapod" this was necessary and we too used to get four sets of new clothes during the Durga Puja. No shopping for the rest of the year except your birthday dress. So the Kapdawala is approached in advance to deliver the clothes. And now, the search begins for different designs and a good tailor. Surely, you are lucky if you get one according to your taste and time. For the rush and time is hectic as well as precious. Next is the chanda collection by the organisers all para boys will be hopping door to door collecting chanda(donations). In between this one month a week prior to Puja comes the holy day" Mahalaya", The Devipaksha lunar day. This is the day of Amavasya where, in the early morning on the ghats of Ganga (River Hooghly) the Idol of Maa Durga is painted with the chantings of Chandi paat, Devimahatmyam, Mahishasura mardini shlokas. The artist begins painting, starting from the eyes. The eyes are painted first. All India radio would be playing the Mahalaya hyms by Birendra Krishna das, every houses would be playing the radio and listening. The aura is blissful with echoing mantras, since, it is believed that on the day of Mahalaya, Devi Maa Durga, is descending to the earth to bless her children. The thrill, the excitement begins from that day, and is up to the brim till the Puja day. 

"Shubho Shasti" the day begins with shubha mantras,  dhak baja, dhuni and chitter chatter of children. People from near by areas would be hooked onto the Pandals for four to five days, from early morning till late evening relishing the bhog prasad, evening dhuni dances and cultural programmes. Everyone would be coloured in the festive moods. Pandal hopping was the best part. All ladies and girls would be decked up in their best attire looking dashing and beautiful,swaying, giggling and dancing to the beats of the  dhak and to the film songs emitting from the loudspeakers. All ladies would look like angels and damsels. Each Pandals would be jam packed and crowded. People would throng to the food stalls and to the various other stalls set up by the hawkers. This thronging to food stalls was my favourite too, for, only on these four days we too were allowed to have our ways and also outside food. "Puchka" my favourite. I would relish this to my hearts content. There used to be a puchka eating competition, where, in a minute, you have to hog on as much puchka as you can. It was a real tough one but there were lots and lots of competitors and the richest was Puchkawala. All the hawkers were mostly from small villages and they loved Durga Puja since it filled their pockets with money for the entire year.

I would now take you all to one of my Pandal hopping experience. Evening was the most craziest during Puja. Girls loved to deck up and glanced for a admiring look too. Me too decked up in my best attire and dolled up with all Beauty products thought myself to be a heroine. Different hair styles foot wear earrings all in one go. I tried out the pencil pointer heels for the first time. Maxies and middies were in fashion and I wearing one was thinking myself to be, not less than Zeenat Aman. Thus flaunting myself I along with my friends were hopping Pandals. Here I would like to pen down some most exciting part of Puja and Puja celebrations. Young girls and boys in their best attires do desire for a glance from the opposites and most of the heart throbbing effects and first crushes begins here. Puja Pandals were a blooming platform for many young lovers and lovestory. The onlookers like me too enjoyed these glances and lovey dovey of couples. I along with my friends were just calculating the lovey dovey couples in the Pandal when I felt two eyes piercing through my friend standing beside me. As I was checking who the boldest was, I tripped over my Maxie and landed flat on to the ground with twisted ankel and broken pointers of my heels. Nevertheless, I haven't worn any after this incident. The evening was lost in pain and me confined to home for two days. Confining to home during Puja is the most dreadful thing. But I somehow found solace in the Bollywood songs emitting out from the loudspeaker and made my day.

The last day of Puja is once again the saddest, bidding farewell to Maa, all elderly ladies and newly wedded couples and "bau maa's" would gather around and would apply Sindoor to each other and to Maa Durga wishing everlasting blissful married life and sowbhagya.

Murti of Maa Durga would be embarked from the stage on to the tempos and truck with procession and proceeding of people, clanging the thal blowing the shank and Dhak.  Women, in "Lal parer Saree" would be leading the procession throwing Sindoor and hod dena (auspicious sound). The bank of Hooghly river would be full with people bidding farewell to Maa Durga with tears of joy in their eyes, promising another year-long wait for her arrival.

"Durga Durga"

Pic courtesy: Google Images

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