Dear tongue

The eyes saw the wine bottle first
And you started drooling
All those memories
Of that fermented grape juice
From previous times
Boggled your memory
And hence your mind
The appropriate groundwork was done
You just waited for the bottle to be opened!

You wondered…
“Why can’t this New year arrive early?
It is a stupid idea
To open the bottle for 2020
Why can’t we have in 2019 itself?”
Your taste buds overlapped
In excited agony
And you drooled indicating that to me…Phew!

You got excited…
When the ears confirmed the sound
Of the bottle being opened
“Who cares if the New year has come or not!”
Was the only predominant thought
When the eyes feasted
On the beautiful color of the wine!
The nostrils were ready
And the fragrance that wafted
From the wine
Its pure intoxicating smell
Was just too much, right?
“Bring it to me!”, you ordered.

One sip you had…
The chillness hits you…
There is a forewarning
From a sensible side of the mind
Of not to drink anything cold…
But you push it away…
You are addicted
To the taste of that wine
You wanted more
And more of that drink!
The chilled wine
Went down the throat
Creating the ruckus
Which didn’t hit for more than 2 years
That severe throat pain
And cold and fever
The sufferer is me!
It was because of you
And your love for that taste of wine!

That forever drooling
That forever dancing
Of tastebuds
For that cold wine
Has left you in drylands today…
You are devoid of taste
Your tastebuds are in hiding
You cant even taste your elixir
Leave alone rasam or dal!
Is this what you wanted?
Shame on you…
You have become
The tasteless tongue!

I don’t even know whether to address you as “dear”
For the havoc, you have created
In my body!

Taking solace

I think I escaped the bug for long which can give you body pain, a sudden increase in the levels of phlegm, a sore throat and a feeling to lie down all the time under the comfort of a quilt.

Since the gap has been long, I think its taking vengeance with a force. Its been 4 days now and the running nose has just turned for the worse. And suddenly the cough reminds me of its presence, apart from dealing with the other symptoms. There is a saying that goes like “The cold lasts 7 days with medication and a week without medication”!

All kinds of medication are going inside my body; I hope they all reach the right parts of my body to heal me well!

To add to the chillness quotient, its been raining since morning today. I really wanted the sun to be out for me to soak in the warmth but naaa…life is not like that! Its always not what we want!

And here I take solace by posting pics from archives, where I close my eyes and feel the flowers in my hand, where the warm sun caresses me gently and suddenly I feel all healed.

It is therapeutic!

Ten on Tuesday – Those childhood foods…

I started writing something about flowers and trees until I realized that today is Tuesday. And then I changed my whole post and the picture too!

For a post on foods should deserve a picture that matches with it. Now, a vazhai ilai (banana leaf) sprinkled with water, ready to be served with food is the perfect picture to go with it!

So, here I go, with those favorite dishes from childhood, because of which I remember a lot of things that happened during my childhood.

1 That delicious arisi upma made in vengala panai along with thengai thogaiyal, made by my maternal Patti is something that I drool over, even today!

2 Semiya bagalabath is another specialty of my maternal Patti! This is what we term as kai manam. Patti’s cooking skills are just to die for and even now I can hear her humming some song while cooking. Those carefree days of vacation spent at the maternal place are something very dear to the heart.

3 Coconut trees were aplenty at maternal thatha’s house and hence coconuts were used for everything. I used to team up with two other friends and make snacks without cooking like mixing fried grams, coconut, sugar and crush them with a mortar and pestle and eat it with a proud feeling.

4 My paternal side Patti is my favorite, for I remember her softness and the steel-like will power behind the soft exterior. Even during tough financial times at home, she will lovingly mix thayir sadam and give it to us in our palms along with mavadu. This is one food memory that overrides everything else. Maybe there was a secret ingredient called love!

5 The image of amma sitting on the kitchen top, making crisp Rava dosas and all of us gobbling them one after the other is something which is my favorite. And today as I make Rava dosas, I tend to compare with amma. I cannot match her but I just try to be better than the previous time.

6 I remember the rainy day, when I and my siblings were shivering because of the chillness in the air, Patti made us sit on a gunny bag to feel warm and gave all of us hot boiled groundnuts. It was heaven. I can still feel the warmth of Patti as she sat with us and helped us to peel the groundnuts.

7 One day I remember making semiya upma in the evening. Since my thatha loved garlic, I thought of putting garlic in the semiya upma, which we generally don’t do. The upma turned out in a pathetic state. I didn’t like it at all. But my thatha was so happy that he relished it so much.

8 Appa used to fast during shashti and he ate without salt for dinner. Amma made saltless chapatis and tomato sweet chutney to go with it – something like a jam. She will never make it on ordinary days; I wonder why she didn’t! So, on shashti, as appa sat with his dinner, I used to sit next to him, drooling over that tomato jam. Amma will roll her eyes secretly to me not to take from appa. But appa will feed me chapati and tomato jam and I will be trying hard not to show that I was chewing on food.

9 Kozhakattai is always a favorite of mine. And I used to await those festival days when it was made at home. More than kozhakattai, I always feel thrilled to eat that poornam separately – just coconut and jaggery – I feel it is the way to heaven! Patti used to give the poornam to us with the knowing smile of the love we have for it.

10 And for the love I have shown above, here is something that I am not fond of since childhood, which is bread. It may be because amma used to give me bread only when I had a fever and so I started associating it with sick day food. And even when I grew up, I never got over that feeling. Today I can manage a toast if nothing else is available, but it will be the final straw to being alive…hehe 😀

Marghazi kolangal

This month of Marghazi is dear to the heart. Be it the kolams that adorn the entrance of the houses or the slight chill and crisp wind that surprises the normal Chennai climate or the sound of music that is in the air, there is something for everyone to intake, partake and enjoy!

When I was a young girl, I used to pair up with my sister to draw the kolams during Marghazi. And as I type this, I suddenly remember the fat bound kolam book we had at home. Everyone, including Patti, amma, chithi or us (the sisters), will update our new kolams which we learn from other books or magazines or other’s houses. We will make an entry as to how many dots is the kolam and how to draw it. Thereby we also practice it once before doing a final version at our home entrance.

This book is occupying my mind for the past week as I try hard to remember those kolams which are short and neat to put in front of my home entrance, this Marghazi month. I wish I had the book with me now. Maybe, amma still has it in her cupboard; I should ask her about it.

These kolams were done for last Diwali and I really enjoyed putting the kolams in the vast space at the entrance of my brother-in-law’s house.

All these kolams have to be a part of my blog and what better time than the month of Marghazi!


Sunday musings

I sat and watched as these saplings were planted in the field. It was a time-consuming process. All the people who came for this work went into the field that was filled with the right amount of water. They stood with their feet apart slightly, bending down and in absolute focus to make sure the saplings are planted are specific intervals. The sun was hitting hard and they were all sweating profusely. But none of them bothered about that. The feet were soaked in the muddy water. That also didn’t bother them.

All their focus was on planting them at the right distance. All their thoughts and prayers were for a good crop out of this planting. All of them worked together for that.

I just walk into the supermarket and pick up a pack of rice, pulses or vegetables without even thinking about the hard work that has gone behind that packet.

And I realized how much I have taken for granted in life!

Meet Justin

When my daughter sent me this picture with the caption “Meet Justin”, I couldn’t understand it. When I asked her “Who Justin?”, she laughingly told me that its her new Arrowhead plant, which she got as a gift.

I was touched. Gifting plants is very close to my heart.

Students of my daughter’s class played the Secret Santa and one of her friends found this beautiful gift of a plant to give my daughter.

I am feeling very happy with such a thoughtful gesture!