A few summers back on a lovely evening, when we were in Paris, we wanted to watch a movie. We tried hall after hall (Odeon has three or four multiplexes and a few smaller ones) only to find all shows full. At last, we found one which had only two tickets remaining, so we bought them...and found ourselves in the front row, maybe 4 or 5 feet from the screen. Halls there are on average much smaller than in India (or atleast in the Metros, maybe even elsewhere). The images were pixillated at that distance and matters were worsened by the fact that it was a Ben Stiller movie...
The other day, went to watch Mithya, 11am show - no rush for tickets - reached the multiplex with seconds to spare... and were "ushered" in by the usher who led us into the theatre and up the stairs and said, "Sit anywhere you like and enjoy the movie"!
We were the only one in the large hall!
A bit like we owned it! Or a private screening for just the two of us!
Am not sure if I was entirely happy with it. I like to watch movies with others, certainly with A, or friends or in a full-ish hall. Its a bit like when I read an interesting book, I have to get others to read it, or read out bits to them...
However, a novel experience!
Showing posts with label Gurgaon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gurgaon. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
A divine display
Yesterday was awesome. Nature put on a very special show for our benefit….First of all, the day was unusually warm. With the mercury dipping to 1.0 deg only a few days back, it was heavenly to stand on the verandah and not feel the chill.
Perfect weather for a trip to the small oasis in this ugly concrete jungle that is Gurgaon: Leisure Valley Park. Overcrowded on weekends, we had the park all to ourselves except the few couple…they were anyhow, tucked away in the remotest of corners! Like the warm weather, another bit of luck, eh?
A little inside, the small enclosed rose park was a RIOT of colours. Roses of all hues, a single rose, big as a small tea cup to tiny clusters …what a sight to behold. After a pleasant amble, we left and made our way to the parking lot outside. Ah, life was already smelling of roses!!
And then, we saw this most amazing display, put on, as if, just for the two of us. From the far end of the near empty large parking lot, up they came without a warning, a huge swarm (they were definitely not looking like a flock) of the common myna (shalik in bengali), putting up an uncommon display. They came at an angle, swooped low and soared up, and at some hidden signal, the whole swarm separated into different flocks and flew in opposite direction, and then came together again and again and just as suddenly, flew to different trees and sat on the topmost / outmost branches, sort of outlining each tree and the whole process began again. I don't know much about birds habits (city dwelling ignoramus that I am), but I don’t think it was something common. The parking attendant and his two cronies too were watching it, agape. I wish I had carried a camera with me. It was like looking through a kaleidoscope where the figures, merge, meld and break up in perfect symmetry.
To imagine, I have lived so long and yet have never seen so many roses of some many hues, birds in rapturous display...and it must have always been, as long as birds have been, as long as roses have been....
I carried the images with me even as A negotiated his way through the totally un-symmetric chaotic mess of roads, cars, metro diggings, back to our home.
Perfect weather for a trip to the small oasis in this ugly concrete jungle that is Gurgaon: Leisure Valley Park. Overcrowded on weekends, we had the park all to ourselves except the few couple…they were anyhow, tucked away in the remotest of corners! Like the warm weather, another bit of luck, eh?
A little inside, the small enclosed rose park was a RIOT of colours. Roses of all hues, a single rose, big as a small tea cup to tiny clusters …what a sight to behold. After a pleasant amble, we left and made our way to the parking lot outside. Ah, life was already smelling of roses!!
And then, we saw this most amazing display, put on, as if, just for the two of us. From the far end of the near empty large parking lot, up they came without a warning, a huge swarm (they were definitely not looking like a flock) of the common myna (shalik in bengali), putting up an uncommon display. They came at an angle, swooped low and soared up, and at some hidden signal, the whole swarm separated into different flocks and flew in opposite direction, and then came together again and again and just as suddenly, flew to different trees and sat on the topmost / outmost branches, sort of outlining each tree and the whole process began again. I don't know much about birds habits (city dwelling ignoramus that I am), but I don’t think it was something common. The parking attendant and his two cronies too were watching it, agape. I wish I had carried a camera with me. It was like looking through a kaleidoscope where the figures, merge, meld and break up in perfect symmetry.
To imagine, I have lived so long and yet have never seen so many roses of some many hues, birds in rapturous display...and it must have always been, as long as birds have been, as long as roses have been....
I carried the images with me even as A negotiated his way through the totally un-symmetric chaotic mess of roads, cars, metro diggings, back to our home.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Roti, Paani aur Bijli
The water supply was restored on the 4th, after three full days. At first we felt irritated, harassed, angry. Our daily routine went haywire. How much comfort we derived from the same ness, routineness of everyday things ... no reason why... like sweeping and mopping, watering plants, the dishes, the laundry...
It felt surreal to wash the clothes at 6pm when a water tanker would arrive and water would run through our taps if only for a couple of hours.
We had all our taps on...and the slightest trickle, heralding the arrival of the water tank would galvanise A and me (and the other residents I am sure) to action. We stored water wherever possible: In buckets, in my two pressure cookers, assorted pots and pans...in fact I was running out of dishes to prepare the meals!
The household helps came several times each day to check and somehow, the water would arrive only after they had left! They must have been laughing at our predicament, a taste of what 'their' life is like. This afterall, this is nothing new to them. My maid J manages to run her home with water that her husband brings from a distant tap.
It also drove home the point how much we took things for granted...how wasteful we were. And not just leaving the tap on while brushing. I managed to cook and clean and wash clothes properly but with a limited quantity of water...perhaps, for the first time, the correct amount of water. A bucketful of water was enough for a good bath instead of a luxurious soak in a bath tub. And believe me when I say, it felt just as good as if I had taken a bath in a hot tub with aroma oils and candles lit on the edge, sipping wine!
Even after the water supply was restored, we continued to store and use water judiciously (read not wastefully).
Last evening, when we reached home after our weekly shopping at Wazirabad Haat, we found the entire building completely dark. That meant no power and no generator either. A was too tired (with the various excuses that the administration would have given us and none of which would make sense and yet all would promise instant resolution of the problem) and so we lugged our veggies upstairs slowly, through the ptich dark.
The power came back for half an hour, enough time for me to grill the kebabs and then it went and returned only at 9 this morning. Which meant I missed "To Kill a Mockingbird" shown on Sony Pix last night at 10pm. (This is the second time I could have seen and yet missed the film...the first time was my choice, unbelievably. We were in the middle east then and I for some unearthly reason...chose to swot for my exams rather than watch the film...perhaps the only time I have done so)!
This morning, we find out that Gurgaon has been plagued with 12 hour power cuts. So perhaps the building admin decided to give the generators a rest and keep it for the all important pumping water to the over head tanks.
Perhaps all this is a boon in disguise...teaching us, preparing us for the day, not so far away when we'd have to ration (if lucky, fight for if not) water, power, fuel and by we, I mean everyone....
Afterall, man does not live by bread alone. Water and Power are very important too....
It felt surreal to wash the clothes at 6pm when a water tanker would arrive and water would run through our taps if only for a couple of hours.
We had all our taps on...and the slightest trickle, heralding the arrival of the water tank would galvanise A and me (and the other residents I am sure) to action. We stored water wherever possible: In buckets, in my two pressure cookers, assorted pots and pans...in fact I was running out of dishes to prepare the meals!
The household helps came several times each day to check and somehow, the water would arrive only after they had left! They must have been laughing at our predicament, a taste of what 'their' life is like. This afterall, this is nothing new to them. My maid J manages to run her home with water that her husband brings from a distant tap.
It also drove home the point how much we took things for granted...how wasteful we were. And not just leaving the tap on while brushing. I managed to cook and clean and wash clothes properly but with a limited quantity of water...perhaps, for the first time, the correct amount of water. A bucketful of water was enough for a good bath instead of a luxurious soak in a bath tub. And believe me when I say, it felt just as good as if I had taken a bath in a hot tub with aroma oils and candles lit on the edge, sipping wine!
Even after the water supply was restored, we continued to store and use water judiciously (read not wastefully).
Last evening, when we reached home after our weekly shopping at Wazirabad Haat, we found the entire building completely dark. That meant no power and no generator either. A was too tired (with the various excuses that the administration would have given us and none of which would make sense and yet all would promise instant resolution of the problem) and so we lugged our veggies upstairs slowly, through the ptich dark.
The power came back for half an hour, enough time for me to grill the kebabs and then it went and returned only at 9 this morning. Which meant I missed "To Kill a Mockingbird" shown on Sony Pix last night at 10pm. (This is the second time I could have seen and yet missed the film...the first time was my choice, unbelievably. We were in the middle east then and I for some unearthly reason...chose to swot for my exams rather than watch the film...perhaps the only time I have done so)!
This morning, we find out that Gurgaon has been plagued with 12 hour power cuts. So perhaps the building admin decided to give the generators a rest and keep it for the all important pumping water to the over head tanks.
Perhaps all this is a boon in disguise...teaching us, preparing us for the day, not so far away when we'd have to ration (if lucky, fight for if not) water, power, fuel and by we, I mean everyone....
Afterall, man does not live by bread alone. Water and Power are very important too....
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
A belated happy Diwali post
This has been our 4th diwali since our 'retour' from France. But our first diwali at home. Our latest home that is (3 shifts in as many years, 4 if you count the few months we spent with our in-laws). So naturally, we were looking forward to it.
As the day drew closer, diwali melas sprung up everywhere. Familiar landmarks disappeared and the ordinary skyscape was transformed into a twinkling fairy land by night.
I picked up 50 earthen diyas for a steal - 20 Rupees only. I also got the cotton wicks (12 to a pack for 5/-). And the all important mustard oil. (I could have opted for the easier electric lights...but somehow, I wanted this diwali, my first one here, to be traditional).
We went downstairs and were told that we could burst our cracker outside the entrance. A and our friends promptly started off while I quivered with a sparkler in my shaking hand. Soon, the other residents descended with huge bags holding their enormous stock of crackers. Our flower pots, sparklers and charkis got lost amid expensive rockets zooming and bursting into golden showers, silver sparkles, dropping parachutes and what not.
We returned upstairs...and ate pizzas and then bid our friends adieu. I realised that I had been so busy running around trying to hide, fingers in my ears from the various bombs...that all evening I managed to light only three phuljharis (A had got 20 boxes for me remember?).
Before retiring for the night, I went from room to room switching off the lights...and there they were...my cheap little diyas holding their own...casting a small but tenacious golden light...to me more beautiful than any of the fancy twinkling electric lights.
Happy Diwali everyone!
As the day drew closer, diwali melas sprung up everywhere. Familiar landmarks disappeared and the ordinary skyscape was transformed into a twinkling fairy land by night.
I picked up 50 earthen diyas for a steal - 20 Rupees only. I also got the cotton wicks (12 to a pack for 5/-). And the all important mustard oil. (I could have opted for the easier electric lights...but somehow, I wanted this diwali, my first one here, to be traditional).
A got a tad carried away and bought a large amount of crackers: no bombs; Charkis, anars (flower pots) and 20 boxes of phuljharis (sparklers). This last one was for me since I am petrified of crackers despite my enthusiasm for diwali fireworks. We invited S & his wife D and their 3 year old to help me finish off the phuljaris.
We sat and reminisced about past diwalis. How one year the 8 year old A with his uncle's help decorated the entire home with homemade lanterns made of coloured papers and diyas and had the whole neighbourhood agog and his photo in the paper! And how I after shifting into a new appartment in Kolkata, bullied the residents for the diwali fund and had our first diwali dhamaka...where everyone burst the never ending supply of crackers that I had organised while I and quaked under the water tank.
On diwali eve, we put the crackers in the sun .... to make them crackling shape (for diwali night)!!
On diwali, I timidly (I am timid in all things domestic...well actually in most things), filled up the diyas with mustard oil (realising that slipping a piece of newspaper under the diya should be the first step, rather than the last), put in the wicks...arranged the diyas on the broad parapet on each verandah and lit them.We went downstairs and were told that we could burst our cracker outside the entrance. A and our friends promptly started off while I quivered with a sparkler in my shaking hand. Soon, the other residents descended with huge bags holding their enormous stock of crackers. Our flower pots, sparklers and charkis got lost amid expensive rockets zooming and bursting into golden showers, silver sparkles, dropping parachutes and what not.
We returned upstairs...and ate pizzas and then bid our friends adieu. I realised that I had been so busy running around trying to hide, fingers in my ears from the various bombs...that all evening I managed to light only three phuljharis (A had got 20 boxes for me remember?).
Before retiring for the night, I went from room to room switching off the lights...and there they were...my cheap little diyas holding their own...casting a small but tenacious golden light...to me more beautiful than any of the fancy twinkling electric lights.
Happy Diwali everyone!
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Bull at Haat
Mardi was my shopping day, during our stay in France. I really looked forward to the Mardi Marche rather than the cheaper Super Marche. Oh the joys of going through the stalls with the beautifully arranged fresh produce sold by the farmers themselves. The aroma of roast chicken would fill the air (and have my stomach growling). Also, this was my chance to practice my spoken french! The farmers were a most friendly lot.
Back in India, we shopped as and when required. Didn't have a fixed day or shop. Meat, fish, veggies were A's department. Condiments were mine. We had been meaning to go to the nearby Wazirabad "haat" for quite some time. And recenlty, shaking off our intertia and mind block, we did just that. Despite the incredible dust which had us all sneezing and choking, it was very enjoyable. Stalls were marked by bamboo poles pegged in the ground with the produce spread on plastic sheets in between. The bamboo poles not only marked out each stall but were used to hold a long length of wire from which bulbs were suspended! The same crying out of wares, prices, haggling. Different place, different people, but the ethos was more or less the same.
There were some very marked differences (this is India after all). Bright splashes of colour, more crwoded and not at all orderly or quiet and enormous amount of dust. But that was not the main difference. There was a small skirmish when the bamboo poles supporting the electrical wire fell and down came the entire length. Some one yelled "Batti wala ko bulao". Apparently each haat have their own "batti waala". Now here's the difference: a herd of buffaloes had pushed their way in and had knocked the poles down! The batti wala fixed the problem, the bulls were gently allowed to pass. Nobody noticed and life went on. I wouldn't have either, normally, had I not been thinking about the marches!
On my second visit to the haat, I got a severe shock when I suddenly found an ENORMOUS black and white bull breathing down my neck. Actually, it was just trying to sample some of the veggies on display. No one chased it away. Naturally. Given it's size and the fact that the passage between the vendors was really narrow, it would have started a stampede. I gingerly stepped away and kept a wary distance between us. The bull hung around for quite some time tyring this and that and it was quite sweet - like an overgrown bumbling baby!
Am looking forward to my next shopping day. What a wide variety of greens (and reds,yellows and other colours too), very fresh, affordable and pesticide free (many more varieties of creepy crawlies each time I empty my shopping bag). And of course the bull adding the final, inimitable Indian touch to it!
Back in India, we shopped as and when required. Didn't have a fixed day or shop. Meat, fish, veggies were A's department. Condiments were mine. We had been meaning to go to the nearby Wazirabad "haat" for quite some time. And recenlty, shaking off our intertia and mind block, we did just that. Despite the incredible dust which had us all sneezing and choking, it was very enjoyable. Stalls were marked by bamboo poles pegged in the ground with the produce spread on plastic sheets in between. The bamboo poles not only marked out each stall but were used to hold a long length of wire from which bulbs were suspended! The same crying out of wares, prices, haggling. Different place, different people, but the ethos was more or less the same.
There were some very marked differences (this is India after all). Bright splashes of colour, more crwoded and not at all orderly or quiet and enormous amount of dust. But that was not the main difference. There was a small skirmish when the bamboo poles supporting the electrical wire fell and down came the entire length. Some one yelled "Batti wala ko bulao". Apparently each haat have their own "batti waala". Now here's the difference: a herd of buffaloes had pushed their way in and had knocked the poles down! The batti wala fixed the problem, the bulls were gently allowed to pass. Nobody noticed and life went on. I wouldn't have either, normally, had I not been thinking about the marches!
On my second visit to the haat, I got a severe shock when I suddenly found an ENORMOUS black and white bull breathing down my neck. Actually, it was just trying to sample some of the veggies on display. No one chased it away. Naturally. Given it's size and the fact that the passage between the vendors was really narrow, it would have started a stampede. I gingerly stepped away and kept a wary distance between us. The bull hung around for quite some time tyring this and that and it was quite sweet - like an overgrown bumbling baby!
Am looking forward to my next shopping day. What a wide variety of greens (and reds,yellows and other colours too), very fresh, affordable and pesticide free (many more varieties of creepy crawlies each time I empty my shopping bag). And of course the bull adding the final, inimitable Indian touch to it!
Friday, October 05, 2007
Goodbye Ms. M
I did it. Finally. Screwed up the courage to tell M that her services were no longer required. And it has taken me exactly four months to do so.
M our cook, landed up on the very day we moved here. And from then on, apart from cooking extremely mediocre meals, has been a source of constant torment to me. Each morning I'd wait for her to turn up and make my breakfast or rather A's breakfast since he like elaborate ones and not the plain milk and cereal sort. I'd arrive home late from work, dead tired, crawl in to bed, sleep uneasily with my never ending job lists haunting me and crawl out bleary eyed next morning. As the minutes would tick past and the clock inch towards 9 when my cab would arrive, I'd start making A's breakfast. On a good day, M would turn up just as I would enter the kitchen and on a bad day (which was more often the case) just after I'd finish making A's breakfast. I would have minutes if not seconds to spare and rush without giving M a piece of my mind and of course, sans breakfast.
She did turn up early, well before 9...but only on weekends, when I would be really loathe to leave my bed early.
She'd never remember the recipes and finish cooking (irrespective of the number of dishes) in less than an hour and leave with the kitchen tap dripping, lights and exhaust fan on, the kitchen a mess. But I couldn't complain. Work swallowed up most of my time.
If I am sounding mean, I am not. I let her take a day off whenever she wanted to or if she said she was not well. And more over we often spend the weekends with our in-laws and was OK with her flexi timings.
Recently, I quit my job (Yes, I have quit), and now had the time to supervise her.
"Why are you late?"
"Well you are home now, so I can come in a bit late", meaning What's the fuss? You can make the breakfast can't you?
"Don't drop the peels on the floor", I tell M.
"J hasn't come today has she?", referring to the other maid who does the floors, and continues to drop peels on the floor.
Each morning, the same thing. M with her face an unreadable mask and me sounding like a nagging stuck record.
Recently friends were coming for lunch. So I'd ask M to chop up veggies after she made the breakfast. I could begin the cooking lunch and M when she returned could do the rest. When she turned up three hours later, I had finished two dishes. She took one look at the uncooked bhindis and said, "Three hours and you haven't done the bhindis yet?"
Just after I quit my job, A and I went for a seven day trip to MP. Before leaving, I told both M and J to check at 10 on the day we were returning. J dutifully did. M sauntered in at 1. By that time, I had ofcourse finished cooking lunch.
"What"?, I asked her angrily.
"What do I cook?"
"Nothing, I have finished".
"OK", she leaves, cool as a cucumber.
She turns up at 12 one day.
"Why didnt you come earlier"?
"Here I am", (ignoring my comment).
"Yes I can see that. But why so late"?
"Oh, I overslept".
You get the picture. After much internal debating, I told her not to come any more.
J, the other maid, tells me the next day, M has found three new jobs. And she is getting paid really well.
And she reminds me again the next day.
I retain my cool and say that is really, really good.
And then she tells A, "Madam is so nice. She is doing all the cooking herself and is saving you money". Argh!
And finally, today, she has a ring side view of my cooking episode involving lots of lal saag, worms, my hysteria and her eventually rescuing me from it. Bet she and M are having a nice laugh.
M our cook, landed up on the very day we moved here. And from then on, apart from cooking extremely mediocre meals, has been a source of constant torment to me. Each morning I'd wait for her to turn up and make my breakfast or rather A's breakfast since he like elaborate ones and not the plain milk and cereal sort. I'd arrive home late from work, dead tired, crawl in to bed, sleep uneasily with my never ending job lists haunting me and crawl out bleary eyed next morning. As the minutes would tick past and the clock inch towards 9 when my cab would arrive, I'd start making A's breakfast. On a good day, M would turn up just as I would enter the kitchen and on a bad day (which was more often the case) just after I'd finish making A's breakfast. I would have minutes if not seconds to spare and rush without giving M a piece of my mind and of course, sans breakfast.
She did turn up early, well before 9...but only on weekends, when I would be really loathe to leave my bed early.
She'd never remember the recipes and finish cooking (irrespective of the number of dishes) in less than an hour and leave with the kitchen tap dripping, lights and exhaust fan on, the kitchen a mess. But I couldn't complain. Work swallowed up most of my time.
If I am sounding mean, I am not. I let her take a day off whenever she wanted to or if she said she was not well. And more over we often spend the weekends with our in-laws and was OK with her flexi timings.
Recently, I quit my job (Yes, I have quit), and now had the time to supervise her.
"Why are you late?"
"Well you are home now, so I can come in a bit late", meaning What's the fuss? You can make the breakfast can't you?
"Don't drop the peels on the floor", I tell M.
"J hasn't come today has she?", referring to the other maid who does the floors, and continues to drop peels on the floor.
Each morning, the same thing. M with her face an unreadable mask and me sounding like a nagging stuck record.
Recently friends were coming for lunch. So I'd ask M to chop up veggies after she made the breakfast. I could begin the cooking lunch and M when she returned could do the rest. When she turned up three hours later, I had finished two dishes. She took one look at the uncooked bhindis and said, "Three hours and you haven't done the bhindis yet?"
Just after I quit my job, A and I went for a seven day trip to MP. Before leaving, I told both M and J to check at 10 on the day we were returning. J dutifully did. M sauntered in at 1. By that time, I had ofcourse finished cooking lunch.
"What"?, I asked her angrily.
"What do I cook?"
"Nothing, I have finished".
"OK", she leaves, cool as a cucumber.
She turns up at 12 one day.
"Why didnt you come earlier"?
"Here I am", (ignoring my comment).
"Yes I can see that. But why so late"?
"Oh, I overslept".
You get the picture. After much internal debating, I told her not to come any more.
J, the other maid, tells me the next day, M has found three new jobs. And she is getting paid really well.
And she reminds me again the next day.
I retain my cool and say that is really, really good.
And then she tells A, "Madam is so nice. She is doing all the cooking herself and is saving you money". Argh!
And finally, today, she has a ring side view of my cooking episode involving lots of lal saag, worms, my hysteria and her eventually rescuing me from it. Bet she and M are having a nice laugh.
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Procrastinater, no longer (hopefully)
Am I procrastinator? I never seriously thought so. OK, I would like to tackle the easier, simpler and non confrontational tasks before the more complex ones. And occasionally, I’d like to shove the really unpleasant task under the ever present pile of papers on my messy desk. But this time, I really outdid myself. Could it be then, that I am a confirmed and beyond hope procrastinator?
I shifted residence (3rd time in as many years) in May end this year. This was peak work season. I managed two days off from work for the shift. We moved in to this really large apartment but without any woodwork what so ever. Just large bare rooms. Worst affected was my kitchen. There was just a long counter – a slab of black granite. And so all my kitchen ware, spices, grains, cereals etc were piled just any how on to the counter and left for a weekend when I could sort them. June, July and then August came and went. We settled in properly, the logistics, the maids, the shops, the electricity, telephones etc…except the kitchen.
The mess was incredible. In fact, the very sight of it was enough to have me shuddering and making a dash away from it. The few times I had to cook (maid was absent or the dish I wanted was beyond her) I spent an inordinate amount of time looking for the ingredients. I went out and bought stuff only to discover more of it lurking on the messy counter top. And occasionally, I’d have to get rid of something putrid from among the stuff which had been lying there neglected for quite some time.
And the guilt – oh god!
Since my maids were not going to lift a finger to remove the mess and neither would A, it would HAVE to be me. OK. So what if I tackled it bit by tiny bit. Perhaps all the large containers on day 1. All the smaller ones on day 2, all the Indian spices on Day 3, etc. Workable? Yes. And I’d feel a little less guilty with each passing day. So, I began on Sunday and finished on Wednesday. Wow! I felt like I had just scaled the Everest.
The kitchen is looking NEAT, everything in place and easily available and to my Surprise, did I actually buy so much and of nearly everything? I am after all the Timid Cook and the most adventurous that I have ever been was when, nearly four years ago, I tried to make Ras Malai (my first and last time …. And no it didn’t turn out bad… it was good…but the effort was too tiring).
The guilt which had rapidly evaporated on seeing my organized kitchen is back full force. I have spent so much on stocking up and yet in the last three years, have used less than 25% of what I have in my kitchen. Wasteful, zero planning / organising skills and WORSE - procrastinator.
This is what I found:
I have seven types of lentils – moong green and yellow, masur, chana, arhar, two types of rajma, lobia (am not sure if the last two are lentils)
3 types of breakfast cereals,
2 types of rice
4 types of cooking oil – mustard, vegetable, and two bottles of olive oil
11 type of sauces including teriyaki and black bean
10 Indian spices – cumin, coriander, poppy seed, ajwain, saunf, kalonji, black and yellow mustard, black and white sesame seed, radhuni, cardamom, cinnamon, mace, black pepper, red dried chilies, chili flakes, cloves green and black, thyme, oregano, basil and one mixed herb
Fried garlic and onions
Sooji, soya bean, dalia….
I am going to take a photo of my now tidy kitchen (should have taken one of the messy one too...but its too late now) to remind myself of the perils of procrastination.
PS - Now that I think about it, my desk at work was always messy. And ocassionally when things got really out of hand, once in 6 months or so, I would take couple of hours of tidying it up. And it would be such an event. People would gather to see. The housekeeping would provide me with a large garbage bin to dispose the useless papers and other stuff. A colleague V, would always click pictures on her cell of the before and after and send me the jpgs.
I shifted residence (3rd time in as many years) in May end this year. This was peak work season. I managed two days off from work for the shift. We moved in to this really large apartment but without any woodwork what so ever. Just large bare rooms. Worst affected was my kitchen. There was just a long counter – a slab of black granite. And so all my kitchen ware, spices, grains, cereals etc were piled just any how on to the counter and left for a weekend when I could sort them. June, July and then August came and went. We settled in properly, the logistics, the maids, the shops, the electricity, telephones etc…except the kitchen.
The mess was incredible. In fact, the very sight of it was enough to have me shuddering and making a dash away from it. The few times I had to cook (maid was absent or the dish I wanted was beyond her) I spent an inordinate amount of time looking for the ingredients. I went out and bought stuff only to discover more of it lurking on the messy counter top. And occasionally, I’d have to get rid of something putrid from among the stuff which had been lying there neglected for quite some time.
And the guilt – oh god!
Since my maids were not going to lift a finger to remove the mess and neither would A, it would HAVE to be me. OK. So what if I tackled it bit by tiny bit. Perhaps all the large containers on day 1. All the smaller ones on day 2, all the Indian spices on Day 3, etc. Workable? Yes. And I’d feel a little less guilty with each passing day. So, I began on Sunday and finished on Wednesday. Wow! I felt like I had just scaled the Everest.
The kitchen is looking NEAT, everything in place and easily available and to my Surprise, did I actually buy so much and of nearly everything? I am after all the Timid Cook and the most adventurous that I have ever been was when, nearly four years ago, I tried to make Ras Malai (my first and last time …. And no it didn’t turn out bad… it was good…but the effort was too tiring).
The guilt which had rapidly evaporated on seeing my organized kitchen is back full force. I have spent so much on stocking up and yet in the last three years, have used less than 25% of what I have in my kitchen. Wasteful, zero planning / organising skills and WORSE - procrastinator.
This is what I found:
I have seven types of lentils – moong green and yellow, masur, chana, arhar, two types of rajma, lobia (am not sure if the last two are lentils)
3 types of breakfast cereals,
2 types of rice
4 types of cooking oil – mustard, vegetable, and two bottles of olive oil
11 type of sauces including teriyaki and black bean
10 Indian spices – cumin, coriander, poppy seed, ajwain, saunf, kalonji, black and yellow mustard, black and white sesame seed, radhuni, cardamom, cinnamon, mace, black pepper, red dried chilies, chili flakes, cloves green and black, thyme, oregano, basil and one mixed herb
Fried garlic and onions
Sooji, soya bean, dalia….
I am going to take a photo of my now tidy kitchen (should have taken one of the messy one too...but its too late now) to remind myself of the perils of procrastination.
PS - Now that I think about it, my desk at work was always messy. And ocassionally when things got really out of hand, once in 6 months or so, I would take couple of hours of tidying it up. And it would be such an event. People would gather to see. The housekeeping would provide me with a large garbage bin to dispose the useless papers and other stuff. A colleague V, would always click pictures on her cell of the before and after and send me the jpgs.
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