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Now Brewing

wednesday doodles

i’m zooming through space. social media space. social, that’s what it’s being referred to as these days i think. i’m rushing about on two separate machines, my desktop and my handphone. there’s no time to breathe or pause as i flit from facebook to twitter to instagram to my forum, my blog, you know how it is. they keep saying older people stay away from such things. why don’t i listen to them? i am old people; i’ve seen thirty…

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Now Brewing

if winter comes, can motorer kochuri be far behind

food is so much about memory, isn’t it? i can’t even hear the words “motorer kochuri” without thinking of my mother. my mother was not a great cook, in fact she was never too keen to visit the kitchen. she had, however, the most discerning sense of taste and understanding of the various stages of cooking. she was particular about the spices and condiments she believed a dish called for. the balance of ingredients was important, getting the right inflection…

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Now Brewing

Start of Something New

new year resolution start of something new

Write more. My new year resolution. Simple. Right? Or maybe I should take a resolution to keep life simple. Simple = Happy. Right? There is something about being in between. Walking home from your school bus stop. Driving to work on a rainy morning. When the season changes. When it’s midnight. When a year is about to turn into another. This sensation of being in between brings with it a sense of possibility. A chance at wrapping things up. Starting…

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Mythology and More

why the hanukkah story reminds me of madhusudan’s magic pot

actually, there’s no magic involved. both are stories of faith. perhaps the sort of faith that brings miracle. i heard one when i was a child, the other after i got married. as my husband, who is jewish, finished telling me why eight oil lamps are lit on hanukkah, i thought of a tiny pot of yogurt and the tale of madhusudan’s bhar. “bhar” means earthenware pot in bengali, and the sound of “r” at the end is more like…

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sarees tell stories

iron nails and camel dung

the more i look at the saree, the more it wraps me in thoughts. random ones that i can’t arrange beautifully like the profusion of hand printed patterns on it. i want to write a simple piece, i mutter to myself… about those nails and camel dung, but i can’t stop the steady stream of images and words: shadowy memories of things heard far away in the past, and some just the other day. cotton trade, american civil war, indigo…

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Espresso Shots

triptych

the fan fell on pishima’s head on monday. everyone remembered it was a monday because shome was on a fast. pishima always made fresh shondesh for shome with cottage cheese and a little sugar when he fasted. she flavoured the shondesh with lemon juice sometimes, or plain new date jaggery if it was winter. sometimes she added a segment or two of orange, after carefully removing the skin, pith, and seeds, of course. when the weather got warm, she sprinkled…

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Mythology and More

Ma Durga’s Sons

durga ma sons

Over the years the idols of Ma Durga and her children only get bigger and grander, or so it seems from where I sit (if am lucky to get a space, mostly I just stand and get shoved around) in front of her looking at all the excitement surrounding them. The panditji praying, long winding lines of perspiring women dressed in their finest. A much calmer line of men in their cotton kurtas. Kids, getting in everyone’s way, who would rather…

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Festive Specials Mythology and More

Navratri & Dussehra – An ode to the festive season

Nine days and nine nights Of festive fervour and bright lights Each day of Navratri a different colour Each day singing verses of valour Durga arrives in nine avatars Lakshmi, Saraswati are not far All the Goddesses descend As one Shakti they transcend Ma Durga is Mother Kali Worshipped as Mahishasura Mardhini Many names but She is one Protecting us from evil demons Krishna arrives with his Gopikas To play the musical raas leela Sri Ram too arrives with Seeta…

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sarees tell stories

muga and memories

there were always butterflies to chase after and try and catch; powdery colour left behind on your fingers as the winged one found a way to escape your clutches. not just the usual yellow and white butterflies. they were blue and black, brown with large eye like patterns, some had purple streaks, some ornate wings with frilly edges. in the reserve forest there were many more. and there were moths too. big ones, tiny ones, in the house, in the…

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road to singapore

with basement, attic, and swimming pool on nassim

the house was beautiful. through the trees and the railings, beyond the shrubs and plants in the garden, i could see intricate white plaster work on grey. pillars, walls, portico… i couldn’t get a look at the entire house, but whatever was visible had such an air of a gracious time, also it was so very pretty. i’d never seen something like it, the white work was fine and intricate, elegant on the grey background. looked like someone took great…

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