This week last year and the other 51 in between..

This day last year, was the night before my Mehendi ceremony in preparation for the wedding on the 1st of February. And whenever I see those photos (which is very often), I feel like I can still smell the mehendi as well. In soo many ways it feels like it all happened just yesterday. But it didn't... there were 363 days in between (it was Leap year last year before you mathematical geniuses pounce in to correct me). And I am no longer the same person that I was last year. Sure, we all change gradually over time. But Marriage eases in a lot more changes, in lifestyle, in responsibilities, and in a lot more subtle ways that you won't realize till you've tied the knot and lived your partner. And for everyone who is yet to marry, you don't know your partner till you've lived with them. And this holds good for both the arranged marriage and the 'love' marriage scenarios. Sure you've spent hours on the phone, gone on 'dates', hung out with friends... anything and everything. But none of that is any indication of what's to come. It's not daunting... nor scary. It's just the reality. If you've lived with roommates, you may think you're semi-prepared. I don't think so. In this case, you can't mind your own business and seek peace. Instead you seek to be involved... to meld your lives together... to find things to do together, etc. It's what I tell my friends. It takes a while to find your "groove" with your husband (or wife). To accept and understand the important things like eating/sleeping habits/likes/dislikes to the stupid and frivolous ones - loudness/speed of talking or eating with a munching sound (each person has some peeves - I have one... I can't go without correcting pronunciation - I just can't let it be). Everyone has some quirks.. But when it's your friend, it's far easier to let them be. I don't know why. Maybe you have higher standards for your partner (which is sooo good in a million other ways). Be that as it may, it takes a while before you find that comfort zone (the groove). Though you think you should tell each other everything... it's not that easy at first, unless you've had a long friendship history. Even then, it takes a while... especially if it's something that is on their side of the fence, like say, you wanted to bitch about one of his friends. It's something you would broach cautiously and proceed only if you received an inviting response. And of course there are fights. For anyone who thinks that the marriage is a wholesome honeymoon, surely for the first year at least, think again. The fights maybe absolutely dumb... but they show up their ugly face at some point or the other. And yes of course, you get through it, you make compromises and sometimes promises you know you won't keep. But it's all part of the game and helps you get through it and makes you and your bond stronger.

As a married woman (sob sob), I have learnt to stock the refrigerator (veggies, milk) and , the kitchen (dal, rice, spices, blah) and the bathroom (read shampoo, toothpaste, soap, conditioner, cleaner, brush, etc.) before anything runs out. I have learnt to make dinner almost every night no matter how tiring the day, how late I come, because it's a small something I want to do for my proper-ghar ka khana-deprived husband. I have learnt to get up earlier than him every morning and have hot tea ready for us as he rises and I let him shower and leave before me as he has a longer journey to work to endure. I have learnt to pack him lunch every day that it is possible. I have learnt to stock his cupboard after the laundry. I have learnt to pack both our things for trips. In short, I have learnt to run the house the way our moms did in this one short year. I am sure S has learnt many new things through the course of the year too... but you are going to have to ask him to know what they are (wicked grin).

So from everything that I have seen, the first year of the marriage is actually a long lesson. You learn so many things, about each other, your habits, personality and generally co-existing with one another and loving every moment of it (almost!). I guess it's during this year that the old-shoe feeling slowly start setting in. Sure, you still like to dress very well when going out with him... but you know it's not necessary. He's the same guy who sees you in your ratty old PJs at the end of the day too. The total comfort zone. That's what marriage ends up as I guess. And yes, that's the best-case-scenario.

P'urge

For starters, read the title as written... Next, try to understand what I'm talking about. When it comes to falling asleep, I have many many pet peeves. Everything's got to be just right for the miracle of sleep to occur. And anything can be a disturbance. Ask my roommates at UC... whom I used to torture with my supersonic detection of the drip of the tap in the shower. Sometimes they swore that I heard it only because I strained to. And yes, sometimes that was true. I listened hard to see if I really wasn't hearing it and discovered that trying that hard, I could hear it faintly. And once I heard it, it sort of reverberated into this unbearably loud sound that didn't work wonders towards my sleeping. And it isn't like if everything is silent, I can sleep well. Nope. I need the sound of the fan. I've told myself that its not weird and many people have that in common with me. And in San Diego, it was the sound of the garbage truck. Loud and clear... only on Saturdays n Sundays because on other days we'd have left by then. But recently, thanks to my downing bottles n bottles of water, its the urge to pee. The worst part is that I would've peed just before bed and invariably an hour later or less, I would be overcome by this huge feeling that I needed to pee. It wasn't that I had to. but the chilly nights don't help. It was just that the thought that the urge would get stronger in a few hours when I would've managed to sleep well, that I would rather do it right then. I think I have more difficulty than others falling back to sleep once something's woken me up. Crazy, huh? Even crazier, I got the idea for this post from one of my short dreams - title, and all.

Sleepless in Paris

I wish it were really as romantic as it sounds... apparently not, though. The vacations have screwed with my sleeping cycle. And more often than not I toss and turn for close to 2 hours every night before falling asleep and then get up with the alarm that wakes the husband, get him to rise n shine through the snoozes and then sleep away for another hour after he leaves. That leaves me all groggy till the first tea in the morning and contentedly sleepy in the afternoons, a temptation I've staved off... till today. I'd just had a hot shower, hadn't had that extra hour of sleep in the morning, had a late-nighter last night and a hell of a lot of walking in the morning trying to locate one of the dubiously located consulates in Paris. And I just couldn't resist the nap. What was supposed to be 30 minutes extended to the hour and here I am at 00:35. It's a vicious cycle I tell you. There's a bright note in all of this though - College resumes Monday. And so will my sleep cycle, I hope.

Memory-card

Not the storage device. It's about my memory with respect to my credit card (or debit card if you will...) Having gone to the nearby store, picked all the things I wanted after a lot of scrutiny, verifying my list to make sure I had everything, I went to the checkout counter and handed my card for the billing. She asked me to punch my code. I do it by reflex as is customary and usually it says 'Code Bon', meaning 'Good code' or all's well. But today it said 'Code Faux' over and over again and for the third time too. That mean my card was locked. I would have to reason it out with the bank to have them unfreeze it. And worse, I couldn't buy any of the things I'd chosen. And I couldn't use this card on an ATM which would swallow it. Instead, swallowing my pride, I called my husband to ask him for my code. When he told me, it instantly registered. I had been punching in my US credit card's pin instead.

Thepla Central..

The theplas I made :D

Pappi Bhelwali

That's what my dad called me when he learned I'd made bhel puri for the husband... Here.. take a look.

The ingredients (including the teekha /meeta chutnies) -

The end product (phenomenally yummy - ask S if you want)

And... I made theplas for dinner today. Pictures later!

Soldes...

Oh yeah... I have been on a little break from blogging... Its not that I have been upto anything phenomenal... But with school closing in a week and with my India trip down the drain... and with my hot plate burning the dear old mini fridge which then wreaked vengeance by flooding the floors, I can safely say that I have had a busy 2 weeks. Hmph.

Well coming to the title of the post... 'Soldes' in French is 'Sale'. When I first saw the word, I was bewildered as to why huge posters splashed across the entire glass windows of the shops would advertise the stuff they had sold out. Of course my translator husband to the rescue... But this was a good 5 months ago. Right now its the summer sale. The summer is welcomed by selling out the old fashions for almost upto 70% off the original price. Indeed when I went to one of the other stores I frequent, I found some of the very stuff I had bought previously on sale for ridiculously lower than what I bought it for. So why am I sitting and writing about this? Truthfully I don't know. I guess I missed blogging too much. Besides I noticed a pattern with the sales. They went all out to get rid of their winter fashions... something like selling crackers the day after Diwali or selling the golu bommais after Navarathri. And just as untempting as that is, is to buy sweaters and sweatshirts for measly 2-3€ equipped with the knowledge that you don't get to wear them for the next 7 months. But the deals are steals and as is my affection for sweatshirts, I ended up buying one that was not on sale. And really sales are finally a game that huge stores play with people's minds. I am sure that I am not the only person who has ended up buying something knowing entirely that I probably will never wear it... or at most wear it once... but bought it because it was just 3.99€. Know what I mean? And the ideas of having all those teeny-weeny trinkets near the checkout lines is sheer genius. Out of boredom, one tends to browse the bin for some precious trinket and in the end, precious or not, you've picked it up because it was really low-priced. I thought I'd outgrown my childish trend when I went yesterday to make the most of the lasting sales. I had to an extent... yet I did pick something up because it was cheap... more than entirely because I liked it. And I had set myself a budget to shop from... And just before going into checkout, I emptied my shopping bag and did a quick mental total... Of course I'd exceeded... Woefully I pulled out a couple of pieces... no brainers really... And there.. I'd met my budget... had a bagful of clothes... some gifts for the husband as well.. Thats what I am talking about.. Once a month, you need one fulfilling day of shopping... just to keep the sanity, maybe.

The culinary weekend.......

And so it was... I made puri n chole and aloo parathas n chutney.. And we were out entire Saturday to enjoy the fête de la musique in Paris.. and so we dined at Sher-e-Punjab and the fête de la musique was more like the fête de la bar as we bar-hopped and caught snatches of some of the phenomenal quarter final lineups of the Euro Cup... The chole backed up as a spread for the baguette as well and all in all, I just spent a delightful weekend.. Back to the grind now.

Happy Feet - the sequel

Yes red shoes... yes they're a fashion statement in Paris and needless to say, they ooze comfort (and no color yet on the socks!)... The clincher? They cost 10% of what the boots did... But you know what? They can't be compared...

Childhood Dreams

I had the great fortune of finally getting down to it and watching this video of Randy Pausch that my friend Ram sent to me about 6 months ago. I know that a lot of you would have probably seen it. The ones that didn't, please set aside 1hr and 16 min of your time -its totally worth it. And all of you must be admiring him just the way I did. The sheer spirit he channelized throughout the talk was most important for more than just the basic bottom line of the talk of how to live one's life, but also for the fact that he tried to put a positive spin on his entire life by showing that he had mostly accomplished is dreams. I read in Wiki that the NFL had him come and play for the Pittsburgh Steelers for one day or something to fulfill that half-baked dream of his. What it importantly did was to ensure that I put my childhood dreams down in writing... for me, for my future reference. So what are they?

(In no particular order)
1. Find a cure for AIDS - I think I first heard about AIDS when I was about 10 and finding a cure for something as gargantuan as that meant only one thing - eternal glory. This dream is sort of akin to winning a Nobel Prize or something - As I grew older and in the last minute favored Engineering to Biology, I now realize that this at least is going to remain a pipe dream. Unless I interpret it bizarrely that I wanted to become a Scientist and with this PhD on its way, I am well on my way to fulfill that one... Heck, yeah.. since its my dream, am going to say that in some askew manner this one is getting fulfillment!

2. Visit the Louvre - When I was about 9, I had this encyclopedia-collecting phase. I bought this book called 'The Giant Book of Facts' and to date it remains one of my favorite references. It had a piece on the Mona Lisa and it mentioned that she was housed in the Louvre - The Louvre- so fascinatingly un-pronunciable... I thought to myself that I would anyway want to visit Paris in life... so the Louvre would totally make my to-see list. - I am happy to announce that this dream has been entirely fulfilled... I have been to the Louvre multiple times. Thank God for that!

3. Write a book(s) - I have many amateur efforts sitting at home in India, many of them neatly typed and printed and bound in folders... But what I am shooting for is an actual book with an actual spine... something that people actually buy. As of now, I am working on a manuscript. Though technically no publisher is going to be paying me, I can say this dream is far easier to fulfill with the current self-publishing options. Besides, who knows... with a moderate success, I maybe able to interest a publisher! (Fingers crossed!)

4. Live in the Europe - While people all around me raved about the USA, I was always a Europe girl. No doubt, I followed the gazillion footsteps into the land of opportunity with higher study in mind, fate had different plans for me. I currently live in Paris - Score!

5. Part II of No.4 - Go backpacking across the continent - It must've been a movie that affected this dream... I am yet to do it.. But with the ideal scenario on hand, I can only hope nothing goes wrong!

6. Take an award-winning photograph - Pictures have been a huge part of my family and my growing up. Indeed you can find pictures of my childhood aplenty were you to visit my family home. Thanks to my dad, I have always been camera-savvy and my brother gifted my first digicam. From that Cybershot of 2.1MP to the current Canon EOS Rebel SLR, I have come a long way in digital photography. Though my shot of the Eiffel Tower just won a special mention at K, this isn't the kind of 'award' that I am expecting to win. I am thinking more in terms of National Geographic, etc. - Good luck to me, I know! At least I am on the right track!!

7. Win soft-toys at funfairs- I actually share this one with Randy Pausch - Childish as it may seem, I have always wanted to win the cuddlies.... I haven't succeeded in winning a whole lot... or anything BIG, but I have won many small ones (check this blog) - So yeaay... partly done!

8. Act in something - something on TV!! - Good luck to me for that one too.. hahahha

Thats all I can recollect at this point of time... I may consider adding more eventually. But as I was telling S about al of this, I suddenly remembered an inspiring childhood moment. I must've been around 9-10 at the time... And because I was going to be singing on stage with a bunch of classmates, I was looking for a specific kind of bindi - yes, apparently it was that important. I dragged my mom up and down many potti kadais in TNagar with no success... So I decided to make them myself... After actually finding biocompatible glue (yes, I was that particular and that aware), I fashioned my own bindis. And they turned out great... or so they seemed to the child's eye. And so, I proceeded to make 2 whole packets of these bindis. And then guess what? I actually walked to the parallel road to the Rani Fancy Store and offered them to the owner for sale. He didn't laugh me away or chide me off... instead he actually bought them at Rs 5 each... the going rate for the fancy bindis. I am grateful for that. It was indeed a sparkling experience. Thankfully, I didn't make anymore bindis to maybe be eventually turned away and hence heartbroken. So... my hope to accomplish the rest of my childhood dreams lives on...

I take this opportunity to invite all you readers to share a few of your own childhood dreams and where you stand at at accomplishing them. Cheers!

Happy Feet

Brown.... beautiful... brilliant. I finally found my pair of boots. And branded, nonetheless :)

For all about the search of my perfect pair, read this.

Foire du Trone

My earliest memory of going to a fun fair was when I was a kid when my dad took the family to the Ram Leela mela around Navrathri in some huge grounds in Bombay. I remember eating a lot of junk chaat, chewing on those ice candies and buying plastic bows n arrows with which my bro n I would play for days. And of course we went on the Giant Wheels (for everyone who calls it the Ferris Wheel... sorry, to us Indians its always the Giant Wheel). In fact I was a big fan of the giant wheels... maybe because I was sat on them from a very young age... On the miniature versions near Rajawadi Gardens or even the ones near Lions Park in Ghatkoper. I somehow attribute these childhood experiences as the reason for my love of rides.

This weekend, I had the chance to experience a fun fair all over again. Here its called the Foire du Trone (the Fair of Trone) and comes for a couple of months every Spring. It was a prime location quite in the center of Paris and indeed from atop the Giant Wheels, one could see the Eiffel Tower and other merry sights often associated with the Parisian skyline.


First things first, we got ourselves giant ice creams as we explored the length of the fair... There were quite a few rides, water and heights and all the works. There were also these fun stalls with the shooting games, the bow n arrow thingies, each with an enticing selection of prizes, mainly soft toys and sometimes electronic goods to be won. S being the boy, of course played out for the electronics and I as always for the cuddlies... There was also bungee jumping and some other utterly crazy rides for those who desired more than just a little thrill.. So, S, SK and I explored and played game after game, grabbed a bite of some yummy thing I can't pronounce and proceeded to win a whole bunch of toys... Here's my favorite one -


Recognize him? He's the dude from Ice Age scrambling behind the infinite acorns... It was total fun, I tell you... But at the end of the day, we were quite exhausted, having walked loops around the fair and quite broke (each of those games cost 4€ each types) and we'd ended up playing quite a lot. In fact we didn't realize just how much we'd played till we went to one stall and all of us emptied our pockets and still couldn't get enough change to pay for the game... and this given that we'd all made ATM withdrawals an hour ago. But you got to do what you got to do!!

Tasty Tidbits III

I did it again!! I made Pav Bhaji on the husband's request and here's how it looked...

It tasted fantastic... had the perfect color, the perfect flavour n what not... The difference is my recipe... Its Pav Bhaji with a twist, with a few more additional steps than what conventional recipes tell you. But the extra effort is totally worth it. Its mouthwatering and beats any hotel Pav Bhaji you've ever had... If you want the recipe, all you need to do is ask!

Ooh by the way, the recipe to the paruppu usili is posted as a comment on its post. Check it out.. try it out and lemme know how you churned it out.

Tasty tidbits II

Ah... So I was making paruppu usili to go with the mor kozhambu that I made for dinner today. Usually, paruppu usili is made with beans or kovakkai (tindora), but I made it today with capsicum, the way my mom makes it. And it tastes as great as it looks... Wanna see?

If you like what you see and wanna know the recipe, leave me a comment.

Tasty tidbits

No no... I am not into food blogging.. But somethings I can't help. I usually fix this up when I am hungry and have to make do with leftovers. I just take a slice of bread, put it on the pan, sprinkle cheese on it and top it with anything I can find in my fridge - spread, chutney or subzi and it makes for a quick hunger fix. But yesterday at Franprix I found mini-canapes.. And they were sooo cute I just bought them. And so today I put that together today and here it is...

Isn't that appetizing? Bite-sized bread is cool and cute. I had topped it with the masala from yesterday's masala dosa and some tomato chutney. Was crazy tasty especially with the bread crusting n the other side. Here's another shot -

Reality Check

So... I got down to making those dosas from that batter... And if I can say so myself, they turned out fantastic. But thats not precisely what this post is about. I had only 2 of us, S & I to make dosas for... Even so, I was taken back to those days in India where dosa invariably formed dinner for more than once a week sometimes. And my Chittipatti remains the master at the dosas and her dosas are paper-thin, tremendously crisp and with very little oil - its the ultimate combination all of us strive for while making dosas. And she's sooo good at it that people from all corners come home and request her speciality to savour. This post is about my Chittipatti, and occassionally Patti and definitely all Ammas in the world. An ode to them. How they unflinchingly make 30-50 dosas for the huge family/friends without so much a word of protest. In fact the more one ate, the happier they were... In fact my Chittipatti sits on the kitchen counter and amid the heat of cooking dosas sometimes, for well over 2 hours. Hats off!

I have done this a couple of times in the US.. A dosa dinner for the North Indian friends who were pretty enraptured with the dosa (they always called it DO(like TOE)-SA; never got the "Dh"). And as usual, after making about 20-25 dosas, I was pretty much full from the smell. But I had VR there to help me out and we used to make them together and she would make them for me when we had finished serving everyone else and vice versa. Here, I turned down S's chivalrous offer to make me my dosas once he'd completed dinner. And I had to make myself barely 3 dosas before I could appreciate what all our moms did for us. By the time the second dosa was being made, I realized that the first one was going cold. And everyone knows cold dosas are about as much fun as a damp sponge. So I ate it as the second one cooked. Following this pattern, I even had time to do the dishes while the third was cooking. With this discontinuity, its hardly a wonder that my Chittipatti after making those 50 odd dosas for everyone barely managed to eat the 2 that my mom made for her.

The next time I am in India and being pampered with "Innum onnavadhu saapdu" (Eat atleast one more), this reality is going to hit me and I swear I will try to partake their efforts in the making (though I doubt the people in question will ever choose my dosa over the Master Chef's!) But ther's no harm in trying. After all, S can vouch that my dosas were crisp and yummy too...

Sweater Dosa

I did title this right... The husband and I had this immense craving for dosa a couple of days back... And with a brand new mixi sitting at home, there is barely an excuse not to go about making it! So, I soaked the rice n urad dal last night and like a good girl, I arachified it this morning... And all I had to do after that was to let it ferment a bit before spreading out those crispy hot dosas for dinner tonight.

Problem: The vessel I poured the batter into is this saucepan of sorts (I don't have smaller handle-less vessels). The weather though dramatically improved, isn't warm enough for ideal fermenting, especially not with closed windows and shutters.
Usual solution: I leave stuff in the microwave when I want them protected and at a temperature a little higher than normal.

Today's problem: The microwave is too small to accomodate a 3 litre saucepan.
Today's solution: Batter kept inside the vessel cabinet snugly wrapped with my warmest sweatshirt.

Problems foreseen: The batter ferments soo much that it outspills the saucepan and ruins my sweatshirt.
Solution: The husband can buy me a new one in return for yummy dosas.

Ah.. there's a solution to everything in this world, isn't it?

Winter Pockets

I have this habit of lapsing into the comfort zone with the winter jackets. I bet I have most of you very confused by now. What I mean is that I tend to dump a lot of my stuff in the usually large pockets of the winter jackets/coats. And because of what they carry, I am reluctant to change jackets till I absolutely need to. Today was one of those days... It was 17 C and sunny and warm and there was no way I could carry off a jacket used for sub-zero temperatures. So I rummaged my closet and pulled out one of my favorite sweaters. But that was the easy part. Then I started emptying the pockets of my erstwhile coat. An assortment of things poured out - coins, ipod, keys, monthly metro card, more loose change, cell phone, bills of a million things bought, grocery list, printout of directions to the post office, student ID card, a pen, and a credit card to name most of them. No wonder the coat weighed a ton and I had assumed it was because of the layers to keep me warm! Gaping at everything, I sorted them out and was left with the tickets, the cell phone and the keys to stuff in my jeans pockets and oh, the ipod. Bulging pockets, a lighter jacket and I was out in the sun to enjoy the brilliant Spring in Paris. Now all I have to do is find dumping ground to lighten my jeans.

Cooker Thrills

For anyone who hasn't used the traditional Indian pressure cooker, the tragedies of having a malfunctioning one can't mean much. Especially, if you wasted 4kg of your allowed 20kg into carrying this one piece (alright really 3-4 pieces including the gaskets and the whistle n all) of kitchen utility anticipating it to cook all your dals and chawals just the way it should. But tragedy struck pretty early in our relationship, the cooker and mine. For the cooker just didn't know how to whistle. Neither would he whistle (it had to be a he) nor would he give any warning as he gleefully spewed froth from all directions messing up not just my freshly scrubbed gas... but the walls around it and the minuscule cutting area as well. Not just that, he would slop water all down himself and it would hit the hot plate and burn. It was a mess beyond a mess and it warranted the requirement for a neat round of aluminum foil all around it so that the worst case would be that I took off the dirty foil and put in a fresh one. But this never really worked that great for something would happen to jeaporadize it... and I found myself replacing foil after foil. Especially painful coz I would have to cut openings for the hot plates themselves. It was here that I wistfully recollected that P's pressure pan never once gave us trouble back in Cincinnati. Sick and tried of our ever dwindling relationship and with the rice cooker unable to fulfill any other duty than that of cooking rice (hence the name I guess... duh), I complained to my folks that they'd been tricked ino buying a defective cooker. And instead of sending me replacement gaskets/whistles or valves, they prudently sent me a replacement cooker... which arrived yesterday, complete with spare gaskets, whistles and valves. I tried it out immediately and I have never been happier in our association than when he hissed shrilly and burned nothing.

Next experiment: Put in a new valve/whistle/gasket in the old cooker and try to coax him to function just as well. That way I'll be the only person in the whole of Ile de France with 2 functioning pressure cookers (on a person to cooker ratio)

PS: There's a new entry on the other blog. Check it out if you will.

Bootwatch

Being in Paris and not owning boots seems to be a crime. I have noticed over the past couple of months that everyone (women) and I mean everyone wears boots... With skirts, with jeans, with dresses, with shorts with stockings, without stockings... They are less likely to be wearing a proper jacket/shirt than a pair of boots. They come in all sizes and all lengths and all colours and all sorts of heels with ot without stuff dangling from them. Its fascinating the multipurpose usage that they are put through and finally with the weather warming up a little, I decided I would get myself a pair of boots too that would go fabulously with all my skirts that I soon planned on wearing. But first, I needed to decide what type I was going to get... And hence the bootwatch. I have been observing the women on the street... But the variety is soooo large that all I have been able to decide is that my boots should probably be black (will go with all colors and types of clothes), should not have any heels (flats are the best for your back) and should not be made of leather (poor cows/crocodiles or anything else that they kill to make 'fabric' these days). And I plan on going shopping for them over this week... Of course the main thing I haven't decided is how much of a hole I am going to let this fancy of mine burn my hubby's pocket... Some things are better decided by him I guess. :)