tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5696588638103333692024-02-08T12:18:53.606-08:00Blue watersRutujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04871029329608598584noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569658863810333369.post-86242167265418690992012-05-12T02:33:00.001-07:002012-05-12T02:33:27.031-07:00FOOD DIARY<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The breakfast on Deccan
Queen is something that has been talked and written about so much that it
almost is a truism to say anything about it. For Puneiets the train has been
like a lifeline that runs from Pune to Mumbai at 7 am and Mumbai to pune<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>at 5 pm again. The train has been running for
over 30 years now and carries people who work in the either of the cities and
work in the other. Needless to say the breakfast is quite an affair here.. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">As the train pulls
fresh aroma of chicken cutlets, various omelettes and cheese fills up the
compartments. Everything is made fresh in the pantry car and is over by the
time train reaches Mumbai at 10.45? am. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Although me and Sachin
are not “regulars” on this train, neither are we one of those enthusiastic
train travellers nor does the Mumbai –Pune travel entice us in any which way.
But since we had a flight to catch from Mumbai in the afternoon and as usual
our love for food got us on the train rather than a bus which runs every half
an hour for Mumbai. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">As we settle down with
our luggage (me n sachin travel really heavy and we don’t know how..) and get
our seats, a friendly but a rather quick guy takes our order. More than usually
I end up ordering (read bite) more than I can chew (pun intended). Our order
arrives in a nicely folded white paper bag with paper plates inside. We have
ordered for two plates of chicken cutlets, a cheese sandwich and a cheese
toast. Cutlets are crisp outside and very soft inside. They are flavoured with
mint and mildly spiced, one bite of these and I confess to Sachin that I’ve not
had these good cutlets in a while. Once again I come to believe in my
philosophy of simple pleasures of life! The cheese toast is actually not
toasted but fried! And fried to delight!! It is a combination of white slice of
bread and some sour cheese coated with flour and deep fried till crispy on the
edges. I finish <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>one cutlet and wrap up
the other for the road.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It is<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>delightful conversations between the waiters and the “regulars” that
take place on board. Within no time we’ve crossed Panvel and are closing in to
Dadar. Its time, to say adios to an experience full of good food and people. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>Rutujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04871029329608598584noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569658863810333369.post-41544898461108552642012-05-12T02:15:00.001-07:002012-05-12T02:15:19.657-07:00Mayhem on Havelock<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It was<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2 pm
me and Sachin (my husband) were at one of the shacks devouring a red grouper <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>wrapped in banana leaf and grilled. Usually we
end up very hungry and starving after our scuba dives and the food is an
absolute completeness then! So both of us with our divers’appetites really
didn’t care about the frenzy (quite an unusual one for a island) on the street.
One our tummies were satiated we moved towards our resort about a kilometre
away. On our way we saw a group of foreign nationals staying in our resort
running towards the hillock. We stopped by a grocery store with a television
set where everything was being shut, to find out about the earthquake that had
hit Malaysia of 8.9 ritcher scale! And a Tsunami warning was declared for the
entire Andaman and Nicobar Islands and Southern coast of mainland India.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Oh my god”, I said, “Sachin what are going to do
now!?” Sachin was definitely calmer than I were, he told me to run towards the
resort and pack a small bag with bare essentials, some food and our wallets. He
went to hire a two wheeler for us to go on the other side of the mountain which
had a motorable road at a height! I was thanking my stars for having him right
next to me. His training (in the army) allows him to keep his cool and work
towards the situation much better than I can think of! As I reached the resort
two of the girls we made friends here on the island Darya from Germany and
Nicola from England joined me in my room. They had packed a bag already and
were moving towards the hill. I convinced them to join us; Darya bought the
plan immediately and left to get another scooter. As me and Nicola were waiting
for the other two to return I started making call back home in Pune to tell
them about the situation. To be honest I was more worried about our three year
old daughter Saee, whom we had left with the family to go on this vacation for
the two of us. It stuck me like a lightening that no matter what me and Sachin
have to be there for Saee. That one moment, I realised what it is to be a
parent. Everything else in your life takes a backseat when the catastrophe is
around the corner and you want to come out of it, not for yourself but for your
child first. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The resort was empty, everybody was walking towards
the hill. Nicola and I were getting desperate waiting for our riders. Vinnie,
the owner of the resort came to us to ask us to vacate immediately. I was
trying to explain him the situation and Nicola cried, “Here they are!!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We got on our scooters, Darya was not very
comfortable riding it on a curvy, steep road. So I took over with Nicola behind
me and Darya behind Sachin. It took us fifteen minutes to reach on a higher
ground and decided to stop on a flat Platform. By this time Sachin was making
all the tactical decisions for the three of us. We settled down under a tree.
We were actually on west side of the mountain and the tsunami warning was on
the eastern coast, so practically we were at the safest place on the island. Sachin
constantly kept in touch with the resort owner as he had a radio set with
direct connect with weather dept of government. It was already two hours, all
of us were getting restless. The only bottle of mosquito repellent which Nicola
was carrying was over. I had a packet of biscuits and some water. Darya and
Nicola had skipped their lunch because of the whole chaos; they finished of the
whole packet. It was getting dark, the last light was becoming almost
invisible. I was constantly getting calls from the family and friends. We were
assuring and reassuring everyone of our well-being. Ironically it was Darya’s
father from Hamburg, Germany who gave her a call and told about the warning
being called off and the alert still on. We still wanted to make sure and
confirmed the same from friends in Pune. As we rode back into the civilisation,
we saw people getting down from the hillock. It was already 8 pm, quite late by
the standards of an island. The resort Cafe had no cooked food as everyone was
just getting back. The cook decided to fry some potato chips for everyone and
we toasted to life, friendship and camaraderie. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>Rutujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04871029329608598584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569658863810333369.post-81285668057569947962012-05-12T02:05:00.001-07:002012-05-12T02:05:14.313-07:00EXPLORATION UNDER WATER<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I was introduced to scuba diving by Sachin, my
husband who started diving with Indian Navy as a part of his combat diving
training, ten years ago. Four years later when we met each other in 2006, he
was already an avid recreational diver totally engulfed by the mysteries of the
ocean. He introduced me to the abundance, diversity and vibrance of the ocean.
After we got married in 2007, the first trip we took was to Goa; to dive and
eat! Oh yes fortunately for both of us we are foodies and would unabashedly go
on food excursions to different places. So coming back to diving, the Goa trip
wasn’t as good as I had imagined as far as the diving is concerned. It was a
rather dampener with ill fitting equipment, wet suit and combination of an
average instructor and not so clear diving site. But I decided to keep my faith
in diving as well as Sachin and we told ourselves we will do it once again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">So on the fifth wedding anniversary we decided to
take a break from the monotony of work ,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>‘homemaking’ and looking after our three year old daughter Saee
(“looking after part is vice versa); and booked us a month long diving vacation
in the Havelock island east of Port blair in Andaman and Nicobar Islands
of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>India. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">No one but you can tell what calls you to scuba
diving. If you seek adventure you’ll find plenty, if you are looking for
discovery, welcome to inner space. Most people will find it a cliché but the
fact remains that we know the surface of the moon better than the depths of
ocean. To me it is the serenity and peace that one experiences under water. It
is a unique way to find solitude and sometimes even feel empty inside while
you’re under water. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Of course I did not experience this the very first
moment I got inside the water. Initially it felt a bit awkward with heavy gear
and inhaling through my mouth! As I progressed inside the water, the feeling of
lightness came along as easily as fishes to water. I started getting along with
a new medium and a whole new world under water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One of the major problems I faced while my first dive was equalisation,
apart from getting adjusted to the gear and breathing under water. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To maintain the air volume as one descends,
you need to add air to the space to keep up with the volume reduction, this
concept is called equalisation. To equalise the air space in sinuses and ears
one blows holding the nose tight, wriggle the jaw while ascending and press the
forehead tightly. At first not being use to the medium it took a longer time
for me to equalise thus resulting into ear pain. But as I got along in water it
became easier with the second and third dive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The joy of swimming along with the fishes, the flora
and corals are inviting enough to take a plunge and be there. Till now I’ve
seen and learnt to indentify barracudas who swim in large group, yellow, red
and white snappers which make ocean so colourful, slugs and sea cucumbers which
are to me friends of our own Garfield The cat, they lie down lazily on the
ocean bed, jelly fishes, eels (ancestors of snakes probably), star fish and so
on...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My exploration has just begun and I wish to continue
it with Sachin as life and diving buddy...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>Rutujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04871029329608598584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569658863810333369.post-70075307734792724722011-11-15T23:29:00.000-08:002011-11-15T23:29:20.144-08:00Rockstar review..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">The fact that the film opens in Prague and our rockstar is influenced by Jim Morrison, who read and revered Kafka, who lived in Prague, is a coincidence or Imtiaz Ali's anecdote is really a puzzle to me. But i'd like to believe the latter, as you watch this Jaat Boy from Pitampura, Delhi evolve into a rockstar, it is simply a cinematic treat. We might not have had our own Rockstar yet, but we've definitely got a Rockstar movie and who knows the rockstar might just follow..<br />
The film has a soul but is caged in the narrative which flaws at many places. Rockstar is guided by its music and lyrics the way it should happen for any musical. Indian film industry which is mainly guided by the parellel music industry, it is heartening to see that the true notion of a musical is captured by letting it actually carry forward the story. It is actually at Hazrat Nizamuddin Aulia Imtiaz Ali's Rockstar Janardan finds himself and his musical side is revealed after serious humiliations and setbacks. In a way Janardan is an outcast of society he is grown up in and is a complete rebel and waste to conservative Jaat family. The transformation of Janardan through a sufi track kun faaya kun faaya...is an amazinly fluid woven poetry, where visuals...music..lyrics and Ranbeer's poise takeover completely. <br />
As I said earlier, the narrative of the film also meanders several times, jumping back and forth across time and space, making it seem incoherent at times. In a way it also reflects Jordan’s mind frame, so unsettled over constantly loving and losing Heer that even he doesn’t know how he will react next.<br />
Rahman’s music is what makes this film a winner throughout, complemented by Anil Mehta’s superb cinematography. The way his camera records Delhi, Kashmir, Prague and Verona, each place inexplicably connected to the other, enhances the music even more. <br />
It is interesting and amusing at the same time to see the whole bunch of young actors pay tribute to Shammi Kapoor..doin a Chand sa roshan chehra on Dal Lake.<br />
And equally heart warming to see both the Kapoors share the screen space. The senior Kapoor fills the screen with charisma in a brief role as a revered Ustaad that takes a liking to Jordan’s inherent talent.<strong> </strong>In one of the sequences two Kapoors jam with guitar and shehnai, the pensive mood both of them are in and the music once again swirls a magic wand on the screen.</div>Rutujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04871029329608598584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569658863810333369.post-47905504483494305492011-09-24T22:34:00.000-07:002011-09-24T22:34:11.584-07:00Salad with a soul<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">There are many reasons why I call Caesar salad one of my all time favourite meals (yes<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I, consider Caesar salad a meal in itself) a salad with a soul and a very pure one at that! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Paired with a good wine like Sangiovese it can turn a very casual lunch with friends or family into an exotic one. While choosing a sangiovese grape wine you can go through an array of Italian wines (it is the most widely grown grape variety in Italy) and decide on your favourite. Am still going through the process of deciding my favourite!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Contrary to the populay belief that the salad has been named after Julius Caesar, </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">this popular dish was originally created in 1924 by Italian chef Caesar Cardini at his restaurant in Tijuana, Mexico and was prepared and served right at the table. </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">Some well-known restaurants have a live tossing and whipping<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>for the salad on their salad counters. For those who’ve not experienced “the salad show”, you don’t know what you’ve missed. It is an opportunity for a chef to show off his stuff, mixing and whisking to the delight of the patrons.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">Generally, a Caesar salad contains romaine lettuce and croutons dressed with parmesan cheese, lemon juice, olive oil, egg, Worcestershire sauce, and black pepper. Now it has multiple variations including different kinds of lettuce, grilled chicken, meat, shellfish, fish, anchovies, bacon, etc. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Out of all the Caesars (pun intended) I’ve had, the best was at the Big Chill cafe´ at khan market. This version goes with iceberg lettuce as opposed to romaine, has a delectable dressing with a hint of fresh lemon juice and coddled eggs, croutons have a slight hint of butter and garlic ( they stole my heart) and chunks of chicken or bacon as per your choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What I totally fell for was generous shavings for parmesan on the top.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">All you need to know while getting together your salad at home is the dressing, once that is in place you can experiment and be adventurous about the ingredients. Remember a good cook has to think out of the box and many a times give up on tradition. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">So here goes my version of the dressing:</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">One cup of mayo ( I prefer low fat one with eggs)</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">One and half cup of hung curd (again the low fat variety)</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">One cup of olive oil (virgin)</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">Mustard (the original recipe demands dijon, I use anything at hand </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;"> )</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">Few cloves of garlic (hear my Indian cooking instincts take over and I go a little over board)</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">Whip up all this together and you can even store in a bottle.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">So get your salad bowls and spoon out and give this soulful salad a try!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><br />
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</div></div>Rutujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04871029329608598584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569658863810333369.post-2984153326202517032011-09-20T08:03:00.000-07:002011-09-20T08:03:48.285-07:00My years with Ray's cinema..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Sometimes I wonder if Fydoor Dostoevsky had met Satyajit Ray, what could have happened on the celluloid is simply unimaginable. Simply for the reason that their creations were reverberating with humanism, universality, and of deceptive simplicity with deep underlying complexity. <br />
Today I feel like reminiscing his uncontrollable presence in my formative years of under-grad and post grad. <br />
Years ago, as a college going student in Pune, I got to associate myself with National Films Archive of India which had periodic screenings of great films from India and abroad. This place definitely left the aficionados craving for more, and film festivals became the rage of those years. The classics from masters enthralled the young and the old alike and many like me got an opportunity to see some of the best films ever made.<br />
It is said that when we have very high expectations, we are likely to feel let down eventually, but Ray enthrals you and leaves an imprint of his frames on your heart. The first of the Appu trilogy had made Ray an overnight celebrity; obviously I was waiting<br />
to see it and reached almost an hour before the show at Film and Televison Insititute of India (where they were screening the film at their Wisdom Tree film festival). <br />
Years later, I feel the same excitement when I think of that small hall in FTII that evening where I met Appu, Durga and his life through the lens of Ray. I had heard many times over of the sheer beauty of those shots where Appu and Durga wade through the grass uphill to see the train running past their village. What is it that makes this one scene so special and memorable is something that I can't grasp yet – probably the first interaction of Appu and Durga with the "modern" world or the sheer curiosity of human mind reflected with beautiful human emotions, my interpretations go on till today. And it is, perhaps, the beauty of it: that the scene is etched in one's memory forever. But after watching the film, the scene that etches my heart is when it is Appu's first day at school and Durga is eager to awake him. And one skips a heartbeat where Appu looks through the torn patch of his quilt at his sister.<br />
After this tormented journey of self through the film, I decided to watch Shatranj ke Khiladi – Ray's symbolism of two local aristocrats of Lucknow, who remain oblivius their real lives which are in a mess and follow their passions; similar to the rulers of Awadh of eighteenth century who beacome vritually impotent in quarding their kingdoms from the British rule.<br />
When one talks of Satyajit Ray, one is not talking of a person – Ray was a phenomenon, an institution, and a rare one at that.<br />
One of his contemporaries, the legendary Japanese filmmaker, Akiro Kurosawa, had once said: "Not to have seen the cinema of Ray means existing in the world without seeing the sun or the moon"!<br />
I am happy that I managed to see the sun and moon in a different light and shadow through Ray's cinema. <br />
</div>Rutujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04871029329608598584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569658863810333369.post-66653946558540386332011-09-18T10:47:00.000-07:002011-09-18T10:47:56.744-07:00Soupy tales<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">The word restaurant was first used in France in the 16th century, to describe a highly concentrated, inexpensive soup, sold by street vendors. My fond association with soups go back to the winters of early nineties, when me and baba would eat mullgawtany soup ( a famous concoction of lamb and lentils, which traveled from khyberpass to North-India) directly from a bowl. A velvety texture and aroma of nutmeg would soothe both our tummy and senses.<br />
Soup is a comfort in any season: It is refreshing chilled in summer, as well as hot on nippy days. Some especially versatile soups are enjoyable served warm one day and cold the next. Just be sure to serve cold soups thoroughly chilled and hot soups steaming. We’re talking seriously sustaining comfort food here, which stands on its own—though some freshly baked bread would be a welcome accompaniment!<br />
But temperature is just one dimension of this practically universal culinary format that provides cooks all over the globe with innumerable opportunities for creative improvisation. Soups are not only an exceptionally expressive medium but also laudable for their nutritional standing—chock-full of vitamins, minerals, and often protein and fiber, too<br />
Consider all of your leftovers—raw and cooked vegetables and fruits, stocks, juices, sauces, and cooked grains, beans and pasta—as potential soup ingredients. For instance, combine leftover steamed, roasted or stir-fried vegetables, some noodles or rice, and vegetable stock for an especially quick meal. Blend ripe banana, peach, strawberries or melon, yogurt or coconut milk, and fruit juice, and you’ll have a delectable fruit soup.<br />
One of the most common soup flaws, I find, is a “flat” taste due to improper seasoning. Salt is a flavor enhancer and may correct the situation. Taste and add it at several points while the soup simmers and then make a final adjustment at the end of cooking. A small amount of citrus juice, dry wine or vinegar can also bring out and balance a soup’s overall flavor.<br />
Finally, a garnish furnishes a special finishing touch to a soup. Croutons provide a contrast in texture to a smooth puree, and a dollop of yogurt or sour cream does the same for a chunky soup.<br />
Edible flower blossoms and leaves and fruit slices contribute beauty and visual interest as well as a bit of flavor. Minced fresh herbs or a sprinkle of a pungent spice add a piquant accent to each serving. Now, get out a heavy-bottomed pot, fire up your range and give soup a try!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div></div>Rutujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04871029329608598584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569658863810333369.post-62988553294764769102011-09-18T08:32:00.000-07:002011-09-18T08:32:10.592-07:00My Inability to get hurt<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.8pt; margin: 18pt 0cm 6pt; mso-outline-level: 2;"><b><span style="color: #777777; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif"; font-size: 9.5pt; letter-spacing: 2.4pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN; text-transform: uppercase;"><span style="color: orange;">Monday, January 29, 2007</span></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 9pt;"><a href="" name="6456196056984539539"></a><span style="color: orange;"><b><i><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">My inability to get hurt<br />
Like dead flesh<br />
It doesn’t hurt like a fresh rose<br />
When stomped<br />
Dead flesh sees future<br />
Of being hung<br />
After cut for steaks..<br />
It doesn’t complain or<br />
Can it complain after being dead?<br />
Feathers ceded by birds in flight<br />
Are like me.<br />
They don’t get hurt<br />
For they are not butterflies squashed by<br />
Children in play..</span></i></b><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;"></span></span></div></div>Rutujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04871029329608598584noreply@blogger.com0