Meri Pyaari Bindu

A heart breaking story of unrequited, undying love that a boy has towards a girl. That's the plot of Meri Pyaari Bindu in one line. Nivin Pauly starrer Premam, Ranbir Kapoor starrer Ae Dil Hai Mushkil and Dulquer Salman starrer 100 Days of Love have all attempted to capture this helpless emotion, in various shades of grey. 

One could call Meri Pyaari Bindu an out and out chick flick, as it appeals to the rom-com loving audience. Ayushmann Khurrana, enacts the role of a lovelorn Abimanyu Roy with candour and ease. As an onlooker, your heart would go out to him, whenever the love of his life Bindu, puts him in various comic situations. You will find yourself crying and laughing along with Abhimanyu as he tries very hard to win over the love of his life and childhood sweetheart, Bindu.

Parineeti Chopra as Bindu Shankarnarayanan plays the stereotypical "wild-child, untamed woman with a multitude of interesting personalities and interests" as essayed on numerous occasions by Kangana Ranaut in Katti-Batti or even an Anuskha Sharma in Ae Dil Hai Mushkil. 

My only issue with this movie was that it centered fully around the man and his broken heart. Why does the female lead always have to be portrayed as the "jhalli/guaranteed will break all men's hearts" chudail? 

Women get their heart-broken too. More often than you know. The key difference between men and women, when faced is a heart-break is this; Women cry about it quietly for a year or two and then move on. They don't publicize it to the whole world. Men on the other hand, bitch about the partner that left them 'til kingdom come and make a mockery of themselves in public. 

Coming back to the movie, watch it, if you're one of those moviegoers who cries at the drop of a hat. I for one, finished an entire box of tissues while watching it. 

(Image Source : http://www.koimoi.com/movie/meri-pyaari-bindu/) 

Shameless Foodie Tales

Idlis, doshas, appams, puttu and Kerala porotta have been childhood favorites for as long as I can remember. I grew up on a staple diet of these irresistible carbs, doused with generous portions of chutney, sambar, chilli beef, egg curry and chicken stew. 

After relocating to Mumbai post marriage, I naturally began scouting for these authentic Malayalee and Tamil home made delicacies. Thankfully, the area that I live in, has an abundance of food loving Gujjus who are open to try any and every flavour, from various corners of the globe. Living amongst them, my taste buds have also been diversified. While they gave me poha, sabudana khichi, vada pav, pav bhaaji, dhoklas, samosas and chatpata farsan, my brethren (and non-brethren) were busy preparing doshas and idlis, with a strange murky orangish red version of sambar with oodles of sugar. At first, I was puzzled tasting the vile liquid and then I made peace with it because, when in Rome.. 

2 months ago though I met him, the man who would solve all my home sickness, Idli Anna! After my routine early morning run-walk and grocery shopping, my nose sniffed out a familiar nostalgia inducing scent. That aromatic fragrance of home, which I was so used to for 30 odd years. I followed the scent and found the cutest little road side stall selling piping hot poha, sabudana khichdi, sheera, upma, idlis, sambar and chutney. 

I gave him the brightest smile that I could conjure and greedily pointed out to the sambar. "Boliye maydum, kya mangta hai", was his cheerful response. "Sambar, idli, chutney, poha, sheera and sabudana khichdi", I replied greedily. He nodded and continued serving his mouthwatering home made food to a group of sweaty boys who were circling around him. 

"Aap kaha se ho? Pehle dekha nahi aapko", I continued. "Raigad maydum", he replied. How can a man from Raigad make mommy's sambar, I mulled. He continued giving me his toothy grin as he swiftly packed the food which I had asked for. 

I rushed back home with the overflowing packet of food and gobbled down Idli Anna's fluffy idlis with his sambar and chutney. After the first 2 bites, I realized that the sambar was not what I had grown up on, still, it was the closest I would get, being 1000 odd kilometers away from home.

Food is an emotion. It has the power to build childhoods and bring back a flood of happy memories. What I would'nt give, to be 4 years old again, thulping down morsels of delectable meat with my grandfather by my side.

This one's on you appuppa, this mad craze which I have for scouting out food and eating endlessly.(including your salty drink snacks, which you thought you hid so smartly between your overflowing wardrobe of shirts and pants). 

(Image Source : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WH2vEN5seVY) 

A Flock of Ducklings

I woke up bright and early today to hit my building's swimming pool. I aimed to leave home by 7am and be back by 8 to baby-sit both my "Quick Gun Murugan" maids, who make me feel like their maid 90% of the time. The only reason I get up early on my "swim-days" is to avoid being scolded by them. (Don't laugh!) Handle a Bombay-Bai for a week and you will know how feisty they are. 

Back to my swim now. For the first half hour, I was all alone inside a dreamy blue trance. I took slow lazy laps, back and forth and allowed my mind to wander. After about half an hour, two pleasantly plump boys violently dove on either sides of me from the deep end, whereby almost drowning me. After attempting to give them a dirty glare from the insides of my foggy swim-goggles, I continued with my laps. 

After about 10 minutes of trying to swim peacefully inside the Titanic-drowning-current created by the two tornadoes on either sides of me, I began to pant like a baby-seal. My lungs were on fire and I clung onto the nearest wall I could find. Just as I felt comfortable enough to get back to my "calorie-burning" laps, I saw a group of skinny little girls, in bright summery swim-suits and cute swimming-caps which had Mickey Mouse ears stuck on them. They were accompanied by a middle-aged gentleman.

As the twin-tornadoes and I swam back and forth, the group of little girls began swimming between us in the shallow end, whereby causing even more confusion in the already choppy waters. The older gentleman ("Da-Da" as referred to by one of the girls), held them back and signalled us to go back quickly, so that they could continue with their splashy attempts to swim. 

Da-Da's patience levels must be applauded, as he single-handedly managed three very excited little girls in the water. He was teaching them how to swim, breathe and use the right hand-leg co-ordination while afloat. He was even bribing them every 5 minutes with Dairy Milk Silks and Amul Ice-creams, each time one of them felt tired.

I couldn't help but grin at them like a Cheshire Cat. When the clock struck 8, I quickly climbed out of the pool (in fear of my maids), threw on my clothes and just as I was about to leave, one of the little girls screamed "Bye DiiiiDiiiii!". I chuckled, went upto their Da-Da and told him how my daddy taught me to swim at their age. Even my Da-Da (daddy) used the same tactics of food and meat, to get me into the water. 

If it weren't for my Da-Da, I would have been a food loving, lazy football. Thankfully, the football has been reduced to a golf ball and I still love food. Sorry my dear Da-Da, there are some battles you just can't win! 

Poopie Love

One year shy of a decade,

The madness is yet to fade.

You love beef burgers and salads,

I prefer mutton biryani and soulful love ballads.

I plug my ears with cotton wool,

As you play Primitiv's Taurus, the bull.

Our home is filled with laughter and food on the weekends,

As you whip up strange fruit and veggie smoothie blends.

Come Monday,

You fly out of the 'Bay.

I hurriedly fall back into my chocolate binging ways, 

Sneakily shielded from your annoyed gaze.

"I'm following my diet", I slyly text,

But you catch my first bluff, as easily as the next.

The house has never been quieter, 

With the absence of it's rioter.

Thankfully, Friday dawns bright and early,

And I find myself doing a happy twirly.

(ALTERNATE ENDING : Thankfully, Friday dawns bright and chirpy,

Once again I prepare myself to indulge in your strange hand-made slurpees.)

Writer's Note : This poem is about my management-consultant husband, who travels excessively due to the nature of his work. 

Bhutanize Yourself

I'm back home after a lightening trip of 5 days and 6 nights at Bhutan. From my outward appearance, I look absolutely charred and burnt like a badly cooked piece of Tandoori Chicken, but from the inside I'm filled with warmth and joy, much like the serene blue haired Golden Buddha Dordenma at Thimpu. 

Even before my flight could land at Paro airport in Bhutan, the view outside blew me away. The majestic mountains all around my aircraft beckoned to me. Being a city kid all my life, the pristine beauty was overwhelming to my senses. Upon landing, all passengers (self included), hurriedly began taking pictures of the cutest airport in the world, Paro. The architecture of the airport and the breathtaking view of the intimidating, majestic green hills were all a little too much. We all felt like Alice stuck in our respective wonderlands. 

After completing our immigration, we were welcomed by our enthusiastic young guide, Eelo (to be pronounced as ILU from the cheesy ILU ILU Bollywood song, as explained by him). 

After a day of rest at our local hotel in Thimpu, we began our exploration of the city. We were taken to the Thimpu Chorten to begin with, where we had our first sight of the cylindrical golden prayer bells. Next, we headed to the Buddha Dordenma, one of the largest Buddhas in the world at a majestic 169 feet. This Buddha can be seen as you ascend up the hills of Thimpu and your excitement level will mount as you near closer and closer to the enormous statue. We ended our day by visiting the Tashichho Dzong, where we took multiple selfies with amused monks and gleefully ran our fingers (like a child in a candy shop!) over the multiple cylindrical golden prayer bells. The centre of the monastery will remind Kung-Fu panda fans of Master-Shifu and the Furious Five. I almost expected all of them to emerge out of the woodwork and give me a flying kick.

The next day began bright and early. We checked out of our local Thimpu hotel and began our 3 hour journey to Punakha. Enroute Punakha, we stopped at Dochula Pass where we breathed in huge lungfuls of almost snowy air and took pictures galore with the cutely built 108 memorial chortens/stupas. Next we stopped at the vertigo-inducing Puakha suspension bridge. An architectural wonder and a sight to behold for nature photographers, as the bridge offers panoramic views of the river and the surrounding landscape. However, if you have the fear of heights (like me), look straight ahead and march on without clinging on to either sides of the bridge! Our day ended at the cozy local hotel in Punakha, which was set right on the banks of the Mo Chhu river. Needless to say, our evening and morning were spent attempting to dip our feet and face (Tamasha style like Ranbir) in the freezing cold Mo Chhu.

The next morning, we checked out of our hotel and began our journey excitedly towards Tiger's Nest. Tiger's Nest is home to a very sacred Buddist temple by the name of "Paro Taktsang". Situated on the upper Paro valley, the climb up to the temple is not for the faint of heart. The total climb up and down is a steep 9 km and takes 6 hours in total (if you are an expert mountain climber!). Buddhists believe that love for God must be shown by bodily effort and pain, which is why most of their temples are situated on a hilly terrain. My climb up the Tiger's Nest was not a successful one, I could only reach upto the halfway point of 4.5 kms which was home to a well laid out Cafeteria. I apologized to lord Buddha and promised him I'd be back next year to give it another shot. 

Whether you seek tranquility of the mind, an adventurous trek or virgin beauty, you will find it all here in Bhutan, the land of the Thunder Dragon. 

How to get there :

Calcutta to Bhutan by Drukair flight takes you 50 minutes exactly

Hotels to stay in :

Thimpu :

Tara Phendeyling Hotel

Punakha :

Damchen Resorts

Paro:

Olathang Hotel