Onam

Onam, my most favourite festival. Ona Sadya, the best meal in the world. I have fond memories of thulping down mountains of red rice with freshly fried pappadums, parippu, avial, erissery and pachadi. The payasams deserve another banana leaf altogether - paal, ada pradhaman and parippu pradhaman. 

Typically, a fully vegetarian meal, to celebrate the arrival of the mythical King Mahabali. However, the shameless food obsessed family that we are, we always had chunky pieces of fried chicken or fish to go along with the meal.

I've lived away from home for a very long time now. But the happy memories of Onam are still fresh in my mind, like it all happened yesterday. The sadya overdose, the long afternoon nap that followed and visiting close friends and family, all while wearing our brand new Ona Kodis, were an integral part of our celebrations.

With the onset of social media though, the pressure to eat a fantastic Ona Sadya (whichever part of the globe you are in) is intense. Year by year, I see a lot of non-Malayalees, thulping down our traditional sadya. And each year, I attempt to lay my hands on one, to relive my childhood and fail miserably. This year, I had zoned in on a restaurant we had visited four years ago, pre-booked our Ona Sadya and they pulled a Harry Houdini on us. 

The husband was fuming, I was heartbroken and we ended up eating a home cooked meal. The restaurant owner got back to me by 6pm, with a sob story of why they couldn't deliver our meal. I gave her a patient hearing and then told her politely about how she had ruined this special day for me and that she had lost me as a customer forever. 

The heart wants what it wants though. So, I looked up Swiggy and ordered an Ona Sadya from a reputed  luxury hotel in the city. The packaging was impressive, the food however was absolutely dismal. I miss celebrating Onam at home. The week is not over yet though, I will examine Swiggy in detail, like a thesis paper.  

(Image Source : https://indianexpress.com/article/lifestyle/food-wine/the-back-burner-how-to-serve-onam-sadhya-6576148/) 

Tough Love

What a crazy day of mothering I've had! It started with my drama queen son banging his head on my face and throwing it back hysterically, simply because I did not give him his bottle of water. Finally I relented, as I could not take the emotional blackmailing anymore. The very next second, he turned it upside down and rubbed the nipple all over the balcony floor, whereby flooding our once dry balcony. And before I could react to that, he was swimming inside the little puddle he had created like a starfish. 

Once I cleaned up that mess, I took him to another balcony in our house. He played there for a little while and then I decided to take him down for a walk. The thirty minute exercise did him a world of good, as he came back home a little sober and sleepy.

I quickly gave him his lunch and took him to bed, for his afternoon siesta. As I walked around our bed to draw the curtains in our room, champion climbed up the headboard and did a dolphin dive. The distance between our bed and the curtains, can be covered in less than five seconds. In this time, sir had done the deed.

It then took me one hour of pacifying, to make him fall asleep. I had to take him to our living room, turn on Alexa with Cocomelon nursery rhymes blaring in full force and rock him atop me. In that semi sleepy state, I quietly lay him down on our bed. But, he quickly sprang open his eyes and clambered back on me, like a komodo dragon. 

So there I was, lying crushed under my 10.7 kilo child, sleepy and tired. I wondered when the day would end. By evening, I was too tired to go for my evening run. So, the husband decided to take us for a short drive. The little devil was pleased with the sights and sounds outside the car. He bounced on my lap excitedly and tugged on his father's face, from the backseat.

We reached home by 8pm. I quickly whipped up a meal for him and sat down with him to offer it to him. Three bites and ten "NO"s with the emphatic waving of the hands later, my husband decided to chip in. We distracted him with my jewellery. But before we could finish the meal, he threw up on our bed and my precious collection of junk jewellery, which I had been collecting ever since I was a little girl.

Exhausted and ready to give up, we resorted to Cerelac. It was 10pm when he finally fell asleep and we heaved a sigh of relief watching his calm breathing. What a day! What an afternoon! And what a night! When exactly does all this get better?! 

The Nostalgia Of Malayalee Cuisine

Almost a month, since my grandmother passed away. I keep seeing her face in flashes, just before I fall asleep. Along with the regret of not being able to spend enough time with her, in the last couple of years, I also regret not sitting down with her to take down some of her signature recipes. 

When I think about my childhood in Kerala, the first thing that comes to my mind is the food. Kappa and Meen Curry, Kothu Porotta, Pappadam, Naadan Kozhi Varutharachathu,  Puttu, Naadan Beef Fry and so on. No Malayalee household is complete without one or two of these dishes on the dining table. I remember being greeted into my grandmother's house with a mountain of rice and spicy red fish curry with Pappadam. 

I had a particularly tiring day of mothering yesterday, with the child being a crank as usual during meal times and to top it I decided to go for an hour long run. So I came back home dead beat and none of the food at home could satiate my hunger. I quickly looked up Swiggy, zoned in on a newly opened Malayalee restaurant called Theeram and placed an order for Appam, Kozhi Varutharachathu and Chicken Dosa (?), only in Bombay will you find these golden gems. We don't eat Dosas stuffed with chicken, perhaps on the side, yes. But never inside. And nope, we don't eat Chinese Dosa, Manchurian Dosa or Cheese Dosa. In fact, they don't exist!

Anyway, coming back very quickly to the topic in hand; Malayalee cuisine. There really is no better food on the planet. Period! But, I've cheated on it for the past two decades or so. Although, the mind craves for it and it brings back a flood of memories, the body is not too kind to accept it anymore. The spice and grease (especially in the restaurant made Malayalee food) is a bit too much.

Still, Appam and Stew is my go to meal on particularly gloomy mornings. Kerala Porotta with a generous side of prawn, fish or chicken curry is all I need for a sound sleep at night. I have been on a quest to find my piece of home, each time we explore the menu of a new restaurant. The further away from home, that I am, the pull to go back, becomes stronger and stronger.

The last time I ate an Ada Payasam must have been in the early 2000s, for one of my sibling's weddings. Ever since, I have been dreaming a sweet little dream of laying my hands on it again. It hasn't been fulfilled till now.

Malayalee food is so much more than a hunger saviour. It's an emotion. The bits of coconut cut into neat little rectangular pieces inside the meat gravy, the smell of freshly fried Pappadam in coconut oil and the aroma of Kadala Curry is enough to bring a tear to my eye.

Kerala is so much more than it's backwaters and beaches. The unique food of the region is what makes it stand out from the rest of the country. I think I might make some Pazham Pozhis today just for old times sake. 

(Image Source : https://food.ndtv.com/opinions/10-things-you-must-eat-in-kerala-695529) 

The Lonely Journey of Motherhood

Nineteen months, since I've become a mother and each month brings with it new challenges. I feel like I'm inside a video game for life, where I've crossed Level 1 so far. My baby is Super Mario, my husband and I are player 1 and player 2. His tantrums get worse by the day and his cuteness increases. So we tend to overlook his hideous behaviour of shouting, beating, scratching and biting.

We are fried at the end of the day and look like we passed through an electric fence. By we, I mean my husband and I. The baby is just fine. He gets louder and faster with each passing day. Only couples with babies (especially two babies, God bless their soul), understand the tragedy we are in. Grandparents empathize upto a point, they are always on the baby's side. Grandparents are like biased Sherlock Holmes, they've already solved the case for you. It's not the baby's fault, it's yours. Okay then. 

Close friends make suggestions like, "You have to find "me time" and train him to play on his own." Very well meaning, I know, but let's have that conversation once you have a baby of your own, my dear. Until then, hold my hand as I chug through this phase or don't. I'll understand, either way.

There are not enough online parenting articles and recipes in the world, to raise a child. You're never ready and it's always going to be hard. So let's save all that literature, for another day. Also, each child is different. What works for one, will not work for another. 

90% of my day goes in cooking and feeding. I have not met a fussier baby, when it comes to food. And I'm in utter shock. I wonder how, my own flesh and blood, could be so violently opposed to eating, when I myself am a big foodie. I just need to smell hot bhatoores to eat like a pig. "These are your brother's genes, he was also a very difficult eater", says my mother reassuringly, as another piece of ghee fried paratha comes flying to my face. 

Let's not even get started on diapers. The minute I let him diaper-free to air his bum, he poops an entire load. Until then, no poop. Not even a whiff! As for his sleep, it's all over the place. However late in the day, I put him to bed, he will wake up by 5.45am sharp and if we're very lucky, on some rare days, 6.30am. He wakes me up with a slap on the face or a whack with my mobile phone. 

We'll need coffee, lots of dark chocolate and on really crazy days, some red wine, to get through this. Nobody told us, it would be this hard, when we signed up to become parents. We were expert arm chair advisors and loved playing with other people's children, BEFORE we became parents. Now we look at other parents and give them an all knowing smile, indicating, "We know. Let's just hang in there." 

Make no mistake, we love this baby very much. We yearned for him and struggled to have him. We cannot imagine our lives, without him. But on some days, we wish we lived on an island far far away from him. His naughtiness cannot be described in words. You have to experience it, first hand to understand. He would put a monkey, living inside the deep jungles of the Amazon rainforest to shame. That's how maddening his antics are. 

Our house looks like a war zone, with toys and books strewn everywhere. The food he eats, is plastered on all our furniture. He has recently started self-feeding, now that's another level of mess, which takes hours to clean. 

Fellow parents, we got this. Let's give each other a mental high-five and get on with our action packed days. 

The Maddening Mumbai Monsoon

The Mumbai rains are back. So are the memes and the hilarious whatsapp forwards. This time I got one from my brother in Dubai, which compared the rains to Adlabs Imagicaa's water rides. I laughed for a good two minutes and then replied to him saying, "Same story, different year." Each year, the rains are more torrential than the previous and the water logging is more tragic than the sinking of the Titanic. 

For the past two years, I've been missing out on this circus, thanks to my son. I've taken a temporary work sabbatical and am enjoying the madness from afar. But being a Mumbaikar, it's hard to miss the rains completely. Just as I step out of my house for a quick jog, looking at the clear skies, it rains. I come back home looking like a washed out whale, I get yet another shelling from my husband and my son looks on in wonder at the sight of me.

On one of these "clear sky" occasions, I stepped out of home, with the overconfidence that I look absolutely stunning. Like I never gave birth to a child. Almost diva-like. And as I walked down my locality with these dreamy thoughts in my mind, I suddenly heard, "O aunty! O aunty! Aunty-ji!". I walked on thinking, no no, it can't be me. The child must surely be calling someone else aunty ji. Afterall, I was wearing such a flattering, age reducing top. But no, horror of horrors, he looked straight at me and yelled once again "Time kya hua, aunty?".  I jerked to a halt, almost threw a stone at him and mumbled "4.15pm". 

I quickly overcame my depression, by hopping into the local kirana store. I picked up two Amul dark chocolate bars, (because no sane, weight reducing, 33 year old, round person should eat full fat chocolate) and decided to head home. Just as I stepped out of the shop, it rained. And what a torrential downpour it was! As I stood there, like a helpless frog in a storm, all I could think of was, whether to eat the chocolate right that instant or wait till i reached home. 

I gave it a nice deep thought and then decided to save it for home, as I was going to be welcomed with more shelling and "I told you so" anyway. As I reached home and saw my husband's annoyed face, I quickly handed over both chocolate bars and reassured him, that I was walking as fast as I could. However, being the loving wife that I am, I could not come home empty handed, to my sensitive husband, who baby-sat our child, for one whole hour because I wanted to exercise. 

He smiled angelically and pointed to our son, who was now dripping in mango. There was mango everywhere. And by everywhere, I mean even under the sofa cushions. Listen to me very carefully when I say this, never and I repeat NEVER, allow a man to feed your child. Half the food is wasted and everybody has a field day, except poor mommy who went through the toil of preparing the meal.

Coming back very quickly to the rains now, I've piled on 2 kilos of weight by eating whey protein bars very enthusiastically and waiting for my gym to re-open. I continue playing hide and seek with the rains. The rain Gods decide to open their faucet, only and only when I want to go for a walk. Otherwise, it's always a bright and sunny day. 

Mumbai rains, I don't love you. Never have and never will. Please go away with the same speed at which you came. Thanking you in advance, yours forever, not a fan.  

(Image Source : https://www.ndtv.com/india-news/mumbai-rains-colaba-records-heaviest-single-day-rain-in-august-in-46-years-2274977)

Arjun Kanungo

Arjun Kanungo, a successful non Bollywood singer. He has an impressive line-up of hit singles to his name, starting with Fursat, Ek Dafaa, Woh Baarishein, Aaya Na Tu and Gallan Tipsiyaan. His voice is best suited for songs on heartbreak and loss of a loved one. His party numbers are groovy and will make you hit the replay button, over and over again. 

Predominantly an underground Hindi musician, Kanungo has a few movies under his belt, such as Go Goa Gone, The Sky is Pink and Remo. The internet describes him as a "Youtube sensation", but I think he deserves a much bigger label.  

He reminds me of an Indian Enrique Iglesias. Similar to the King of Latin Pop, Kanungo almost always has one sultry babe featuring predominantly in his videos. His collaborative numbers such as Aaya Na Tu with Momina Mustehsan, La La La with Neha Kakkar and Tum Na Ho with  Prakriti Kakar also have a nice ring to it. 

Whatever be your mood, Kanungo will cheer you up in an instant. He sings with a lot of passion and soul. His voice truly moves you. Can't wait to see him live in concert. 

The Toil Of Quarantine

I don't know about the rest of you, I really missed my domestic help during the lockdown. I truly understood their value, while washing heavy kitchen utensils in the sink, while sweeping and mopping the floors and scraping grime off my bathroom tiles. My back pain worsened and it officially sunk in, that I'm an old creaky maid, with stiff bones. 

I wrote imaginary love letters in their name and waited to garland them back with roses, upon their return. Domestic help, what would we do without them? Huge respect to the people living in countries abroad, without househelp. I don't know how you do it. Both my body and soul broke into smithereens, doing housework everyday. 

Luckily for me, my in-laws were around to help during those wretched four months. Still, on some evenings my mother in law and I would just look at each other blankly and say, "Let's sleep immediately". That's how tired we were. While she cooked, I cleaned. While she played with the baby, I made his meals. On the days I couldn't mop the house, she would step in. 

On weekends, we played games together as a family and ordered restaurant food. From being social butterflies, who met people, did elaborate workouts and went out often, just for fun, we were forcibly stuck at home because of Covid-19. If the disease could be shot in the face, with a gun, my in-laws and I would have done it in a jiffy. 

The only silver lining, to this forced self quarantine was that we bonded as a family, we ate some great home cooked meals together, thanks to my mother in law and we invented games to play together as a family.

The day our maids came back, we were over the moon. We tried to play it cool, in front of them (like every self respecting Indian family), but were delighted to have them back. I had to force myself to stop cleaning heavy utensils in the sink and mop the house, as it had become a rigid habit for four months.  

Sending out prayers to the world to heal soon. I hope we never have to face these dark days again. Go away Corona, we are so tired of you. Leave us in peace.

Image Source : https://www.wilx.com/content/news/Hundreds-of-Michgian-residents-being-home-quaratined-for-possible-Coronavirus-568146151.html