ABC

When my son was young, both of us used to play around a lot. He was very well behaved, and basically a happy child. I was fun loving. So we could get along very well with each other. We had fun and even though we lived a very frugal life, there was no dearth of happiness.   

Many a times, when my child used to ask for things, I had to refuse buying them as there was not enough money to get it.  

My son had just joined school, and was learning the ABCs. He was studious by nature and could pick up the lessons easily.

He would sing the rhymes and tell me the lessons he had learnt and I used to tape them. I still have those tapes, and the sweet voice of the child is still capable of bringing a smile on my face each time I hear them.

My son was logical even when he was a child, and I could convince him about our affordability of things. He used to be convinced and patiently wait for months before I could have enough money to get him what he wanted. He never complained about the period of waiting.   

But one day, he was irritated about some minor issue and I had to raise my voice to get him to behave. Losing my cool, is something I rarely do and I was feeling sorry for the poor child.

I wanted to apologize and told him, “Sorry my dear. Do not be angry with dad. I will get you some chocolates. “

My child was still angry with me. He said, “ No need, I will get them myself.”  

This was getting to be interesting.

I asked him, with a smile “Tell me, how do you plan to get the chocolates by yourself?”

He replied in all seriousness, “ I will study ABC, grow up and get the chocolates by myself.” Without his knowledge, he was very emphatic about the important role education had to play in buying material things.

I was happy, that the message had sunk into him, that, education and purchasing power go hand in hand. 

Today he is well educated, and is working.

So, when he gave me his first treat, with his first salary, I asked him jovially, “ So you have studied your ABC and are giving me your first treat?

He smiled, his eyes lighting up with memory of the childhood incident, and said, “ Yes, what chocolate do you want to have?”

THREE MIRACLES

There are times in our life, which leave an everlasting impression on us.

If I were to recall those times in my life, I had tasted the most perfectly prepared sweets, I could easily pin point three occasions.

The first was in 1975. It was my second sister’s marriage. The entire house was agog with excitement. Relatives had come in advance to our house and endless preparations were on to make the wedding a memorable one.

Those days we did not have marriage contractors. We had to do everything ourselves, from sourcing of materials, to management and execution.

We had arranged for a cook. His name was Natarajan. He was supposed to be very good in his trade.

We decided to make Mysore Pak for sweets.

Natarajan asked for Besan flour , sugar, ghee and proceeded to make the sweet.

He had a large kadai, lit a flame and within minutes made delicious Mysore pak. 

Mysore pak is supposed to have a hard surface, but it should crumble on biting. It should have a lot of natural holes in it, which is a part of the making process.

Once in the mouth it should disintegrate, with the flavor of ghee and spread the sweetness of sugar evenly on the tongue.

When you eat the perfect Mysore pak, you will not talk, your eyes will close in the bliss of the taste.

This mysore pak was perfect. In texture, taste and flavor.

Till date I am yet to taste a mysore pak as divine as the one I had eaten 38 years back.

The next miracle happened in my marriage in 1982.

The cook had made a sweet called badusha. Basusha is a challenging sweet. It has to have, just the right amount of sweetness [ not too sweet nor too bland], has to have layers, and should be soft and  crispy  enough to sink your teeth in, but should not be soggy. It is a difficult and challenging sweet, which most of the times is a let down.

But this time the Badushas were perfect and scored a 10 out of 10. It well perfectly oblique, with a small dent on either sides and  had a typical ring which were in twirls, just like one of the rings of the Saturn planet. It was also covered with sugar syrup which had dried and formed uneven crust on the surface. Perfect to see. And divine to eat. The Badushas were so soft with the lingering taste of sugar. They were simply yummy. 

Later I had many Badushas in my life but none came close to the wonder which I had in my marriage.

The third miracle sweet came last week on April 14^th . My colleague, of my previous firm, came home to visit me. The day before on 13^th ,  she had prepared Laddus in her house. She had been preparing Laddus, recently  many a times, and with each episode her Laddus had become better in taste. 

Laddus are made up of small beads of fried flour, soaked in sugar syrup, and rolled into small balls, with just one cashew, one raisin and one clove embedded in each of the Laddus. They are yellow in color. The beads should be soft, but firm and should cling to each other and maintain the shape of a ball and not fall apart. For if they are pressed too hard then the Laddus will be hard. Just the right amount of pressure is needed, so that they easily break into 2 halves, if you want to share it with some one.

Good laddus are easy to come buy, and I have had my share of good tasty Laddus.

But this batch was simply perfect. Delicious, mouth watering and a delight to savor. I refrigerated them and ate half a Laddu each night for desert, sharing the other half with my better half. I did not want the Laddus to be over. We stretched the  deserts for a week, and with great relish and greater regrets I ate the last of the wonderful thoughtful gift.

Never had I enjoyed Laddus so well in my life. Thanks to my colleague.

Good food is something we take for granted. But good sweets are the crowning glory for people with a sweet tooth.

Especially for me, born and brought up in Bengal, where no meal is complete without sweets. I relish ,savor , remember with fondness and nostalgia, all the times where I had been lucky to eat the perfect sweet. So far it has been just three times in a life spanning 58 years.  Well there are tomorrows, and who knows which perfect sweet waits for me in the future? 

MYSORE PAK

LADDOOS 

  

BADUSHAS

Barathiyaar's poem

I  like millions of fans,am so impressed with the spontaneous flow, of  the free thinker and poet Barathiyaar. I have tried my level best not to miss the soul of expression. I hope you guys like it too. 

தேடிச் சோறுநிதந் தின்று - Thedi choru nitham

தேடிச் சோறுநிதந் தின்று - பல
சின்னஞ் சிறுகதைகள் பேசி - மனம்
வாடித் துன்பமிக உழன்று - பிறர்
வாடப் பலசெயல்கள் செய்து - நரை
கூடிக் கிழப்பருவ மெய்தி - கொடுங்
கூற்றுக் கிரையெனப்பின் மாயும் - பல
வேடிக்கை மனிதரைப் போலே - நான்
வீழ்வே னென்று நினைத் தாயோ?நின்னைச் சிலவரங்கள் கேட்பேன் - அவை
நேரே இன்றெனக்குத் தருவாய் - என்றன்
முன்னைத் தீயவினைப் பயன்கள் - இன்னும்
மூளா தழிந்திடுதல் வேண்டும் - இனி
என்னைப் புதியவுயி ராக்கி - எனக்
கேதுங் கவலையறச் செய்து - மதி
தன்னை மிகத்தெளிவு செய்து - என்றும்
சந்தோஷங் கொண்டிருக்கச் செய்வாய்...

Ever in search of a meal

Always engaged in small talk

Forever worrying, engulfed in sadness

Busy in activities that hurt others

Growing older by the minute

Enfeebled by disease

And finally dying

Is the fate of thoughtless unproductive mankind.

God, do you think, that I too would follow their footsteps to ruin?

My Master I ask of you few boons.

Grant me these now without further delay.

Banish the effects of my previous bad deeds so that they never seek expressions.

Please, give me a new lease of life.

Please do not push me again into worries

Please clear my anguishes and make me wise

So that I exist in eternal bliss   

OT ego

The other day my neighbor, Chandar, slipped down the stairs, and landed on his elbow. There was a deep cut and some bleeding. 

Since I am a trainer for the medical representatives, he came to me to show his wound. I inspected it and felt that the wound needed some stitches to heal quickly.

So both of went to the nearest orthopedic doctor. He had a X-ray taken to rule out minor fractures. There was none. So it was time to go to the minor OT. I got a TT and diclofenac injections. TT was to rule out tetanus and diclofenac was to bring down to swelling and pain.

Diclofenac , itself causes pain in the area wherein it is injected, not because of the needle but because it is the quality of the drug.

In the minor OT, the technician,  Udaya, had Chandar lower his shorts and lie face down on the table.

I was telling Chandar, that the injection would pain. This statement irritated Udaya, who felt I was insulting his talent. He argued with me telling me that it was not the injection, but the technique used in injecting which would make it painful or painless. To prove a point he told Chandar, “ sir now I will inject you on each hip, one by one. You tell me which is more painful. “ He then proceeded to injected each hip with the respective medicine.

Chandar was in a fix. Because Udaya was yet to stitch his elbow and Udaya’s help would be needed to remove the stitches 10 days later. Chandar did not want to offend him.  Very diplomatically he said that he could not feel any difference between one prick and the other.  

Udaya looked at me triumphantly, and gave me a look that said, “ so who do you think you are? Smart guy!!!”

This event left me stunned. Here I was, who just made a harmless statement, which affected the  ego of a technician, who wanted to prove his superiority over me.

Funny , but point is to be noted.

We are all creatures of emotions. We are creatures driven by our egos. We have to be right, no matter what, have our way every time, whatever the consequence, and prove to everyone that we are great.

Even if it is momentary and fleeting the ego is always ready to brandish its sword and slay any other passerby ego. 

The feeling behind this small event, when multiplied many times, breaks friendship, separates lovers, divorces marriages, brings war and disaster to nations and starvations to humans, and destroys endangered species.

When will peaceful co-existence be a reality and not something you read in books.

Once a librarian named Swarnamukhi, told me, “there can be a cure for cancer and aids, but not for human ego.”

How true.