Between Self discovery and self recovery

Life is journey of self discovery … or so says pop-philosophy.  What is my journey and till now, fifty years of walking the earth? Have I had moments that brought me closer to the truth of life or closer to my soul and self journey…. hmm, like Lewis Carroll asks in Alice Wonderland…Who in the world am I? Ah, that’s the great puzzle.

Okay let’s see where do we begin this wonderful mythical journey to discover ourselves? Gandhi the Mahatma (puke) says in the service of others you find yourself… okay I go on this path looking for myself where will I find me? Think of the visuals we are morphed into

Cinderella the wonderful daughter obedient hail hallelujah we have a self sabotaging victim at hand… waiting for the prince, waiting to be rescued

Then comes the sleeping beauty… again self sabotaging victim composed until rescue, again by a prince.

What would happen if Cinderella took a hatchet to her stepmother or whipped the life out her oppressor like Geeta does in Seeta aur Geeta?

Coming back to self discover, discovery and then what?

Have you ever come across the term from Upanishad,”Tatwam Asi” you are that… the question next is what… it is precisely that your are that you are precise who you choose to be so what does that make of discovery?

Think of an onion peeling each time we think we have gone a step closer to self discover we are labelling ourselves, stagnate like being in a pond, it is when we let ourselves be part of the infinite, we allow the flow of universe through us, then there is no more discovery there is just a state of being, the experience of infinite.

At times I wonder if the point where Self transcends from being a noun to a verb is that point in the creation when purpose, work, and play merge, and this point is very much in the present…

Maybe it we need to relook at this self discovery theme and look at self recovery…God made us in his model we are just as complete and powerful as him or her, Shakti alone creates Shakti alone destroys, and each of us embodies the essence of that Shakti. Which is why the Upanishad can declare “Tattwam Asi”

Self recovery will hopefully lead to self acceptance, that is the point of self discovery the shift of dwaita to adwaita… from vaayu jeetothama, hari sarvothama, the journey goes to Aham Brahmasmi.

Each morning wake up take a deep breath, and let yourself float in the energy of the universe, you feel the pancha mahabhutas, to experiment make a sankalpa or goal for the day that’s it, then go about your day see if you can find yourself in the activity of the day I learnt a very valuable lesson from my 25yr. Old daughter, her everyday meditation is to request the universe to let her talents be made best use of, since the universe has chosen to channelize it through her,….“And you? When will you begin that long journey into yourself?”  ― Jalaluddin Rumi

Growing up with Santa

I wonder if Santa will remember me this year, I am adult to receive gifts, and kids have left home.

November 27th the beginning of advent, this year the feeling of advent was different, there was a huge emptiness. Call it the empty nest; suddenly carol singing and Santa Claus seem too dropped out of the radar.

Despite of being a small town Udupi in a very conservative family my mother had made us believe in Easter bunny, and tooth fairy, of Santa Claus was a community affair, a way of declaring that we were progressive… but since we were children we only appreciated Santa and lot of energy he brought. It is funny the things we get our children to believe, first Santa a magic mythical person who performed the improbable that is handing gifts round the world, then the Easter bunny, from magic we go animal, the reward from toys become chocolate, then as the milk teeth drop we bring in the gossamer winged tooth fairy and reward the child with a coin…asking the child to believe in the currency of the land. Of course in today’s scenario it might dicey.

I realized one really does not out grow Santa…when my daughters were born, we had a mothers group we kept an advent calendar from the onset of advent we put in small gifts for the child till Nativity. Then of course on Christmas Eve Santa visited the houses and gave the kids their goodies. We had the local courier boy help us out. But the excitement the joy we got in putting this whole act together was just as much as it was for kids receiving goodies from Santa.

At the end of the that is what is what Santa is all about, to remind us that it okay to laugh and sing. It is okay to celebrate… there are things we can celebrate each day no matter where we are and how we are it is not the plum cake that he brings or the new hoodie Santa to me is about appreciating little things in everyday life, and celebrating it.

I know a group of lonely women, some divorced, some widowed some for some reason who did not fall into the box, they are a sorority and what they did was each put in a gift for the others and had Santa deliver it to them, it was not just gift, the gift had to be appreciating a specific quality, like when I put in a gift to my friend sunita I say, this is for sunita for being the unconditional support she is to her friends. Whatever, so that is what Santa is about, about appreciation, about acknowledgement,

From being the person who handed out the merit cards, to being my partner in crime in dealing with my kids, Santa has evolved with me, but now I wonder maybe he will forget me, or maybe he will re-invent himself and I won’t recognize him …Well there is only one way to know… let me put my stockings out.

‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

Lets resolve

New Year is round the corner,

The blogher’s group sends its blog for the year calendar, the Goa reader’s club sends it, and guess what I used vistaprint and create my own calendar since my resolution was to be organized get some projects done and end of the year I presume I would be emotionally, intellectually and financially satiated, These resolutions are quite carefully made, some where I never realized that the year that went by held the language of the year that went by, with demonetization… Vamana Jayanthi…Kattappa and Bahubali resounding in them while the words of the next year are yet to be voiced.

Considering that the last year I had projects spanning the entire year and my year sounded like it would really resonate as for  what went wrong let’s go to it in a while, for now my resolution was  planning my work and work my plan. I did the planning quite well, discovering what I wanted to achieve during the year the goals gave me a direction I felt I was inviting a powerful force into play, both on the universe and subconscious level.  What I wanted to achieve the time lines for it, the big things I did not really did not account much for the little things despite knowing that the little things matter too.  Self improvement was on the agenda interestingly not self acceptance,
“hi, there here is new improved me.” the problems I wanted to solve, they were all there on paper I had a spent a week creating it.

So why did I fail?

Maybe because I was secretive, the fear that I will be ridiculed so was overwhelming that I didn’t tell anyone so I had no running buddy, when I say anyone I mean not even the universe you see the calendar I got printed at Vistaprints. Well I have not sighted it since Febraury 2016

Maybe the to do list was too much so when Justforkics I went out on a date with rest of the to do list lost in the disaster zone I have a legitimate argument I shall go back to my plan when I find the map.

There is a newer excitement popping up. My time line is  not honoured, I have commitments to my mother, daughters, society which come before my personal pandering my resolutions are after all personal pandering.  With mother she said the time frame would not work simple things like not accounting for travel time, or the time when someone knocks your door.etc.

Another friend whose resolution was to go to the gym or swim gave it up because of the financial factor. Though why she could not swim in the sea or take a brisk walk I do not know.

Most of the times our resolutions are unrealistic, and not properly planned. The resolution I did last year I  had put things into a time frame, including account for my second Saturday’s out of town with my daughter at her school town. So why did I not execute… that is interesting, executing it meant I had to give up something the sometime was oh! I have to visit my daughter… but this demand is made of me… it gave me a sense of relevance. that brings me to the reason why most of the resolutions fail, we are not authentic with the change we want to make or the benchmark we would like to achieve.

This year my resolution is very simple…tomorrow is the first blank page of a 365 page book I intend writing a good one…opening line goes…Que Sera Sera…what will be will be one very convenient goal planning book that worked for me whatever little I achieved was from Personal success today

I am writing this for #flashbackRefreshedy  activity on forfoodiefamily in association with Sandy’s Bake Studio.

Call for my Wishes three

Old king cole

Was a merry old soul

And a merry old soul was he

He called for his pipe and he for his flute

And he called for his wishes three

“Wish on everything. Pink cars are good, especially old ones. And stars of course, first stars and shooting stars. Planes will do if they are the first light in the sky and look like stars. Wish in tunnels, holding your breath and lifting your feet off the ground. Birthday candles. Baby teeth.”
― Francesca Lia Block

The magic of three, the wishes from a genie to Aladdin or any fairy tale. The magic number emerges here.  The intention that I set out with is to state my three wishes ,that is so simple… chocolate…chocolate and more chocolate yet I realize this transitive verb has greater scope, and I needed to ponder

Am I expressing my deep desires to the universe am giving something way to someone.. By wishing them well on some occasion or the other,

or am I wishing someone or something away?

Or am I creating an order form called a wish list… What is that I am looking at? – just take a deep breath, as you exhale ensure your shoulders relax, take a deep breath as you exhale ensure your limbs relax, now take a deep breath and breathe out through your eyelids, letting the muscles between your brows relax, now that you are centered just travelled back and relieve the excitement of crossing your finger and wishing desperately for something and when your wish is granted the exhilaration that follows.

  • Can you remember your sitting out in the open during the night and falling star and how we wished on it.
  • The eyelash that dropped on the cheek, is believed to have the power of translating a wish to reality.

Today when I think back it more about getting connected to the universe and placing a request, actually making a wish is like a prayer to the universe without fixing the energy exchange and the universe indulges.

Let’s look at the wishes…knowing fully  Que sara sara… what will be will be…

My three wishes, on top of the head a quiet evening, a bottle of wine and a good friend to dine with.

Three wishes to give away — peace, harmony and wisdom.

I wish away – this is a tough one I have head-ache, running nose, and period cramps on one hand and  Arnab Goswami, “ubiquitous nighty” and draconian teachers on the other, I guess I shall stick to the first three they are personal pangas. Actually the shoppers in the ubiquitous “housecoat/nightgown” are quite dangerous, they trigger nightmares and nightmares disturb sleep which in turn causes a sleep debt which in turn causes anger issues. On the other hand Arnab Goswami triggers a depression as for the draconian teachers they adorn the monster hall of fame.

My wish-list – chocolates, books and a hunky guy who is not gay.

Let’s be honest,  to be truly happy what one could wish for in this world, is something to do, someone to love and something to hope.

‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’





Ten Commandments to Land in the Present

There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could lose
There’s no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando

this is one of my favourite songs, when I attended the introductory session of landmark education forum, that was the first thing I was aware off, forget it we so hang on the past that an experience from the past, real or perceives colours our decisions today which effects our future this essentially means, we are living our past in the future and somewhere in this whole maze the present is forgotten.

With Jayalalitha dead, i see people talking about her first tenure as chief minister the corruption, the power mania… for them it is still a wonder why and how she is able to create the mass hysteria and following. Like one journalist on DailyO mentioned, she did make mistakes, but she now moved on to see things are secure for her state, women are safe. we all make mistakes, have struggles and even regret things in our past, but we neither our mistakes nor are we our struggles and we are here NOW with power to shape our day and future.

All fine and dandy to say stop living in the past and live in the future.

Okay.. to come to the present I had to disembark from the past that meant letting go yet things do pop up that’s when I realized it began with decluttering. It meant being a minimalist.  My own journey was to start decluttering those small memorabilia from the past giving it away, throwing it away I started feeling lighter. There were so many possession that I outgrew,

The next step was to stop writing a journal, when I wrote daily journals I realized I was reliving the hurt and just ensure that it got it tentacles well within me, instead I shifted to writing a gratitude journal… after twenty one days I added a smile of the day that is I would try to recollect one thing that made me smile during the day it brought a huge shift in energy I was smiling once again.

Another skill I had to relearn was being aware, as I am typing out my thoughts I can hear the scooter in the background, but it is no longer irritating me or making me angry. When I dry the laundry I  hear the birds, when I do the dishes I feel the greenery  there are small moments like the squirrel that pops in and helps itself to the coconut scrapping or the crow that pops in to pick the roti’s these moments I savour.

Forgiving the past is essential, but for me the most difficult, the only way I can do it is through EFT and then I bring forth the inner child who is hurt and try to create a resolution. This is something I am still grappling with. What works for me is I have a drawing book where I have my alter ego that call Potol my daak naam provided by buzzfeed. Who rescues me from whichever or rather whoever monster but now I have to understand what is the real issue there.

Loving what I do is another lesson I had to  learn… interestingly it was my daughter who was eighteen then who asked me a simple question, ”Amma who defines your success”  so I actually sat down had a conversation with the universe discussing what I invite in my space with my skills  i did feel very silly doing it. But it worked my clinic re-invented itself I am working in the exact space that I want to mentally and emotionally, of course physical space is yet to be formed. Maybe I should reframe it to doing what I love.

Dreaming about the future but operating in the present… its like I am going to Delhi on 22nd, that means I need to book the tickets today, I need to pack my clothes etc. etc. that keeps us very grounded in the present without being directionless.

each day goes by whether we like it or not, when recovering from the burns that was a lesson I learnt, there was no point in worrying about the potential of deep vein thrombosis when the current issue we were dealing with was the pain… and infection after that when I see a panic or anxiety attack coming I just take a deep breath and apply the choice theory and reality therapy.

what is the problem… what is the desired solution…. what am I currently doing…. if this is not working what should I do differently? Somewhere something pops up. I just have to step out of comfort zone.

then there are addictions that hold us for ransom they could story books, drugs, drinks, emotions, dramas whatever once we recognize the pattern and we are willing to let it go just one step at a time things just begin to fall into place.

I am sure we all have our own ways of coming to the present I am off to reading what others have to say.


Good Job Done

My first Job,

When I saw the prompt my response was to write about my stint as teacher at the nursery school, when I was all of seventeen. But as usual, thought I should look up the dictionary to see what exactly the word meant… we talk of a Shilpa Shetty and her nose job, we talk of Job’s trail, we talk of Jobbing between semesters and so many things,  so here is what the Merriam-Webster has to say about Job

That Job is a  piece of work, especially small taken on order on which work is done….In that case my first job would be drying the papads, made by grand-mom, out in the sun with remuneration being zilch and the president awarded himself…in this case yours sincerely a papad popped into my mouth when I thought no one was seeing.

Then there is the context of something done for a private advantage… usually a criminal enterprise that could be damaging or destructive bit of work… well I guess some things better kept under wraps we shall not confess about the stolen gulab jamoons or the pepper in Aunt Agatha’s curry.

Then there are undertakings that require unusual exertion with a regular remuneration This is rather interesting, I had finished my 12th standard and was awaiting the opening of the medical college there was a good 4 months gap between the two.  When the campus decided to start a nursery school within the campus so that it would be convenient for everyone. As the school was new, and funds were low there were two teachers for a group of forty kids and they needed teacher helpers, here I was sitting at home, and I volunteered.

The kids thought it was rather fun, to have a teacher who wore skirts as those days teachers draped saree’s formal wear or wear to work was never the ubiquitous salwar-kameez that the Indian woman wears from the bathroom to the ballroom, but it the era of the Kota and Organdie saree’s. it was also the era of tied hair, so had a high ponytail like Veronica and Betty from the Archies.

The day would begin at 9 am and the kids would be all over after all they were preschoolers someone would howl, the other would decide to climb the window, one kid found the washing machine interesting, she would dump everything she found into the washing machine and command,”Washy-Washy”.

Part of the job was to teach them song and dance… the same Mary had a little lamb and god knows what, until a Oriya teacher joined in, she told the teacher in charge, since you are teaching them English, let the kids have a variety  I shall tell teach them Oriya songs and tell them stories from Oriya folklore.

That was the time I realized that the children’s rhymes and the folk stories were the knowledge imparting tools of civilization.

The four months were amazing and exhausting all for a princely amount of  500/Rs. In today’s scenario my remuneration would have no value because 500/- is demonetized!!


‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’


Re-inventing a Home

Sometimes things happen as synchronicity, there were just few more steps to the end of the journey, and the fear of the unknown just loomed ahead, having to live within the four walls of a house, with a spouse with whom let alone physical relationship conversation did not go beyond the grocery list.

The career she had was fairly good for but she somehow did not really give much credit to herself. Had she gone to the professional meets and caught up others maybe things would have been different, but it was just house, housework, clinic, and more housework, drop the kids, pick the kids somewhere she just slipped into the supermom cape. It was rather ridiculous, because if she had demanded from the universe then she would receive.

When she looked back, she saw herself as a dead weight someone who did not contribute to the economy of the house, there was sense of guilt and she was actually thankful whatever crumbs that were thrown her way. Either by her husband or by her parents.

Now it was reinvention time, and when is reinventing herself anywhere could be home, finding the tribe would mean finding home. But again, once she stepped out of the closet and accepted herself for who she is then the tribe would find her she would not have to chart unknown territory her job was to anchor firmly into who she was exactly where she was.

Making her recovery was her priority, but who would she recover or rather reclaim, the memory of who she was kind  had gone deep into her subconscious, there was this hazy memory of a girl who was free, who climbed the tree, yes, that was a memory that came up the memory of the house she called home, a garden in front of it, and the parijatha tree next to it better known as night jasmine (Nyctanthes Arbour-Tristis) the thrill of picking up the beautiful white flowers with its coral red stalk, then stringing it into the sticks that she picked from the broom. Then there were days when the maid Bhagi caught them pulling the stick from the stack and she would start a tirade against them, the cacophony made more terrifying my her grandmother.

When the cacophony subsided her mother would take over give her a good spanking and feel walk away with the air of someone who was martyred.

The thrill of picking the white and coral flowers definitely exceeded the discomfort of the spanking or vocal cacophony.

Then the sampige (Magnolia Champaca) next to it, it was easier to climb and even had a place where she could perch herself, the sounds were soft, birds and rustling of leaves.

It took a plunge into the ocean to awaken the sleeping beauty in her… the wobbling floating jetty with its orange and blue hexagon pattern, seem to take away the twenty kilos of extra weight she carried, the orbicularis oris muscle seem to relax, adrenaline rushed through the body lightened as she sprang right up from the jetty into the welcoming arms of the ocean.

MrD’s disapproval didn’t matter, the shocked look on the kids didn’t matter neither did the scars on her body it was sheer re-awakening. After failed attempts at suicide this was her first grapple with the energy to live, to fly unfettered, of course she was ready to re-invent herself and when one is reinventing herself anywhere could be home.

About me: Dentist, Hypnotherapist, Public health educator, Theatre Activist, Blogger I juggle these hats between being a mother, and daughter.




Cashless and Clueless

Cashless and Clueless that is how I feel about Demonetization.

On Anita’s baiting I am sharing my escape of the Demon-it-i-zation kind.

one  late evening Arnab no his rival in CNN was embarrassing his rectal muscles, by screeching his throat off, about 500 and 1000 Rs. going off the circulation beginning next day.  Suddenly hash tags appeared and it was a high adrenaline scenario.

To be frank I did wonder what the hysteria was about, for I have travelled to Bombay and back from Goa with Rs.80/ in my pocket and some 1500/- in my account and yes except minor palpitation there was not much of an issue. Yes I agree I live in an ivory tower.

My patients still give me 500/- and I accept it, and will continue to accept it till 25th of December after which I will stop. Each Thursday I trot to the bank to deposit the cash, last Thursday when I did go I realized that the bank was not dispensing cash below 2000/- and the ATM was not working well that  becomes problematic, but yesterday at corporation bank in Manipal there was no issue what so ever. The ATM is still not working.

Somewhere this entire operation does not really seem such a great thing first and foremost even though as the claim is made, element of surprise is crucial to the success of this operation, the background preparation should have been adequate.

There are certain apprehensions that do pop up in my space…

Like does this really solve the problem, I have seen super markets give out IOU coupons. Formerly these coupons would be for a rupee or 2 rupee a maximum of 5 Rs denomination, now it is in denomination of 100/- these coupons have popped up over the weekend. Is it not like having an alternate currency, if the alleged sleeper terrorist wants to hand out payments he can always hand out these supermarket coupons?

The Panaji market was silent for a day or two as neither the vendors nor the buyers had the required denomination to trade. Now vegetables are necessary part of the diet, which makes people either buy on credit, or trot to the nearest Reliance Mart… Or any other supermarket and swipe the visa card.  I do understand that it is matter of few days of inconvenience, but try telling it to the school where the fees have to be paid, the bankers who come for the instalment the medicine bill that has paid, and again everyone understand but have their own chain of payments to meet.

When I took the cab from the airport, my cabbie was willing to accept a cheque, simply because he knows me for the past 20yrs, and normally I pay him at the end of the month, but this time round he needed cash to buy tyres, he made me give a cheque to MRF showroom. Apparently he was told that he needed visa/MasterCard if he wanted to use a card he had a Rupay card!!  People suddenly feel the need for Uber, because Uber payments can be made online.

When we travel by train, we normally pick lunch from either the pantry or the platform vendors, now I order online from food on tracks, and hold on there is no more cash on delivery facility, it now pre-pay, and in come Visa/MasterCard. Fortunately they have just launched irtc-wallet.

It is indeed great to cashless, but do we really have the infrastructure for it? lack of connectivity, lack of cyber security, lack of continuous power supply it does spells trouble people, it is like we are being hurdled into the world of mobiles and Visa/ MasterCard which is not healthy either for our economy  or for the environment or for human health!!

Well there people who claimed, challenges for daughter’s wedding well that is a drama that does not really find much support since we should have long past these ugly expensive weddings, that Karan Johar is a brand ambassador of, can someone tell me why payments cannot be made by cheque in these situations? Oh! Yes those allegedly petty cash that is given, does not become so petty suddenly right, well I do not see restaurant waiters quitting their jobs or doing a sloppy job because their tips are threatened.

If we stop hitting the panic button situation is really handle able…

As for black-market handling the really culprits have got away. The Mallya’s the Ambani’s and Adani’s have got off, their loans have been written off.  I go to the bank and people want to pick up maximum available 100’s and denomination lower so that they are “Safe” the lack is already created.

at the end of the day between, non-functional ATM, long winding queues, the only winners are the Visa, MasterCard and PayTM guys who collect 1.8% of every transaction.

The Spring and The Cloud

On top of the hill on small rock bowl is a little spring, this spring gushes out. She was very weak and found it difficult to come out, with great difficulty she came out of the rocks and started to explore the hills around her.

Small and dainty, other springs loved the little spring, and gave her generous helpings of their water, slowly the spring grew into a strong but gentle stream. She would meander down the hills, helping creatures along the way. she would gently touch the roots of the tree to quench their thirst, little animals would come to her banks and sip water, down the stream at the village came to wash clothes and collect water for the day.

In the days of yore farmers came to bathe their cattle, now the truckers came to clean their trucks, but trucks were not like the cattle that ate grass, they were man made monsters that guzzled a dark, poison called petrol, they would then throw out black smoke, unlike the cattle that threw out dung the dung in turn fed the trees, the black smoke could nourish no one, infact they would only kill.

As the summer grew stronger, the tired clouds, would begin to drink water from the bubbly little stream. The sun unable to bear his own heat would take in sips of the water too. the clouds would take in so much of water,  the heat on one side made them tired, and water they drank made them slow, instead of moving briskly with the breeze the clouds began to amble.

Slowly being in the sun and too much of water turned the clouds from bright happy white to a darkish cloud, the vibrant warmth turned in cold heaviness.

One morning as the clouds ambled along, the weight of their body was so much, the eyes puffed up they could not see what was ahead of them, the sky god tried to warn the cloud, he kept flashing lights, but the poor cloud could see the flashes either and the inevitable took place the cloud tripped, crashing headlong into the rock.

The noise was tremendous and scary, the little children in the city were scared. The little children in the villages came right out of them houses with cheeky grins to see what was up, they saw the cloud trip and drops of water fell right on them.

A drop first, and then another, until water came down as continuous stream.

Up on the mountain the little spring who was drained by the heat, saw the flashes too, she wanted to warn the cloud but she was too weak her voice could not be heard, she called for friends but they were tired too, they the frightening loud noises, and were terrified, there was nothing they could to save their friends, but then as the cloud tripped all the water that he carried but did not need began falling down,

Drop by the drop, the thirsty spring lapped it up, the parched tree lapped it up, the animals rejoiced as their friend the spring would come down to them again.

As she filled up the spring started visiting her friends and as the water went out of the clouds the cloud felt light and healthy again.

Adventure Takes the cake

Early years of my life were in a joint family then we shifted to a medical college campus which was extended family. Manipal more or less still works on the same principle. Everyone knows everyone still worse anyone’s business is everyone’s business. Privacy was an unheard of word except in the dictionary. Mind you all in the guise of being concerned well wishers.

It is not really as bad as I make it out we had great adventures sometimes I wish these kids could have an adventure like that. Stealing mangoes, swimming in the river when parents were napping, peeking to the “adult books” were minor thrills.  There were slightly more injurious ones little setting the crackers off at Rama teacher’s class, or running the tape recorder at M.R.Bhat class this were a little more risky as it meant if we were caught then sitting down with pain would a matter of history.

There were also some community learning which we had, like one day we decided to bake a cake… I think we started off with marble cake and then shifted to sponge cake and eventually we were willing to settle for whatever emerged. Now baking a cake was a delicate operation as it meant there would be hovering eye of the cook, or the mother even if did circumvent these hurdles there was the maid next door and the auntie across the road all lurking as potential threats.

But when we only had to take a decision and universe would deliver it, Nirmala’s house was the last one in the enclave, she had no neighbours, the auntie in front was recluse, and the maid in her house was a willing accomplice and this particular instance she was out of town, oh! Yes her mother was a gynaecologist that meant she was busy too. Somehow we did not consider the Fathers as threat.

Anyway we got the recipe down, we were to use 2 cups of flour if I am not mistaken we did pick up the two cups, recipe said all purpose flour, and this was the flour that Nirmala’s cook Rajamma used to make chapatti’s, puries  and she also dumped into the dosa batter if the batter got too thin, so we knew we were on the right track.

Then there was egg to be added 3- egg whites to whisk. We cracked the eggs which all over expertise that we were cracking the eggs for the first time, we managed to spread the egg in uniform quantity into the mixing bowl, the kitchen platform and the floor, now came the sugar, we ran out sugar so we decided to add Jaggery, the baking powder had to be added and the recipe said 1 ½ tsp. We looked around and found this nice clean spoon which was quite okay, as it was the soup spoon… we added 1 and a ½ teaspoon of the baking powder we had forgotten to pre heat the oven so we decided we will leave the cake in the oven and let cook for twenty minutes longer.

Just as we were jubilantly taking out the cake which was still beautifully three layered, brown, charred on top, the crisp edible middle and gooey, uncooked centre, still with all excitement we were on the verge of checking out, and the door bell buzzed, in walked Rajamma, one look at the kitchen our rear end had the forbearing of a future where there was would gross inability to sit on a surface that had no cushion.

Our offence other than messing up the kitchen, well, we had used up the wheat flour and not Maida… the wheat flour incidentally salted. The egg had not only got on the floor, and kitchen platform it had also invaded the jaggery container. The oven well it had become so involved with the cake baking that it burnt itself in the process not to mention the three days worth of dishwashing that we had created.

Fortunately our rear end was not abused, but we were made to take baking classes for the next three months every Saturday at Auntie Amla’s house…Auntie Amla by the way is the inspiration for Miss Sourface.

this post is a part of the write over weekend intiative for indian bloggers by BlogAdda.

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