My World of Food and Travel

I am a paranoid person by nature. I always assume the worst and try to remain alert, no matter how safe the environment looks. Perhaps this has aided me in surviving a lot of odds, barring situations which spiraled out of control due to sudden bursts of involuntary impulsiveness on my part. Many a times I have been chided by the husband for checking and double-checking locks, hiding knick-knacks out of sight in the car and wanting to keep the mobile with me all the time. But then, I have no other option – this is the life I have chosen for myself as a woman in the 21st century. I need to fight for myself and gather help in times of need. I have to survive and help my fellow women-folk overcome perils as well. I have lived and attended schools in Guwahati and Dehra Dun, higher studies in Delhi, worked in Mumbai (and Delhi for a short period) and presently residing in Bangalore. And so, after spending my life in all these amazing Indian cities, I can safely conclude that my childhood...

And so Diwali is over and my parents have left. I did a lot of eating and cooking during the whole time my parents were here. While I made Ma cook for me my favourite dishes, I tried to return the favour by making some new dishes as well. Ma eats sparingly nowadays, blaming it on her age, but Deta is still eager to try new food. He saw a packet of Basa fish fillets one day at the shopping mall and wanted to know how it tasted like. I bought the fish fillets and experimented a little at home. The first attempt turned out to be a big disaster though everyone put up a brave face and said it was fine. I knew better. So, I chucked all my great ideas about creating a new recipe and decided to stick to the tried and tested formula of a fish fry in my second attempt. That, thankfully, went about quite right and I even made Deta try his hand at frying the fish. Nobody had to put up an act of valour at the dining table that day. Here is my recipe for spicy crumb fried fish. Spicy Crum...

The poor little tiger cub This little fellow stayed with us for only a few days. It was an orphaned cub, the mom had been killed by poachers. I remember how excited everyone was, regarding its future and upbringing. I did not think it to be big deal then. The cub seemed more like a kitten to me, the way it would keep on crying. Unfortunately, it died one day when Deta had gone on leave to drop us off at our grandmother’s place. It had been a big setback then and I remember my parents getting quite upset. I recall telling my new friends about the tiger cub when we shifted to Guwahati from the jungle. They had rolled their eyes and were absolutely incredulous till they saw the photographs. I was amazed, in turn, that the city kids had never seen a tiger in their lives. But the best moment remains the time when one of the kids’ moms had asked me once - what we did in the late afternoons (play time) in Manas. I remember replying innocently that I would be generally found riding o...

I love going through old photo albums. So many memories encapsulated in each frame, each telling a story.  All unforgettable.  I had sneaked out a few pictures from the albums at my Guwahati home, pictures from my childhood in Manas Wildlife Sanctuary. But with my topsy-turvy world, I am pretty sure that they will get lost some day. Before they do, perhaps I should record my memories of these images. I have never checked with my parents regarding the background of these pictures. I was never too good at asking questions and always assumed my own answers/interpretations. And so it is my own memories that I shall write of here.  I guess I will be going on a long, sentimental journey. My Aita (grandmother) This is one of my all-time favourite photographs, although I have no memories of it. I am being carried here by my grandmother (now expired), who was and will remain the person I loved the most. She must have treated all her 16 grandchildren equally and yet...

This is what I had at home one evening. Made by my mom…and my dad (in a slightly less prominent role). Ma knows that I have not changed all these years – I am still wracked by hunger pangs in the evening as before and go crazy if I don’t get something to eat. Fast.  I remember these cutlets as being part of my birthday party menu, held for my friends in my childhood. There would be either egg chops or vegetable cutlets, along with lusi (puris), thick butor dail (chana dal) and chocolate cake, amongst others. There was a different menu for relatives who would drop in for dinner. It was a beautiful trip down memory lane as I devoured one of my favourite snacks after so long. Ma also makes an amazingly flavorful fish cutlet, but that is for another post. Let me first share with you my mom’s recipe for the vegetable cutlets. Simple and delicious!  Ma’s Vegetable Cutlets Ingredients: 4 potatoes, boiled and peeled 2 bread slices, shredded to crumbs 1 cup vege...

I used to be a voracious doodler in my childhood. The margins of the first books that I read, Mahabharata and Ramayana, were filled with my own depictions of the events. While at school (3rd/4th standard), we were told that if we accompanied our answers with pictorial representations, it would fetch us better marks. It tickled the artist in me and I would fill the pages with various food images to illustrate sources of vitamins. I wonder now if the teacher laughed softly or really hard looking at them. A few days back I came upon this contest that required us to doodle our way through a recipe. It made me stop in my tracks and ponder if that doodler still resided inside me. Rather, should I unleash that doodler upon unsuspecting readers (if at all anybody stumbles onto my page)? I decided to prod out the child of yore and make her doodle about the food she had enjoyed most during her childhood. The recipe that you see here is what we had concocted as children at our grandparents’ pl...

It was during the summer of 2003 that I decided to do my MBA internship in an IT firm in Mumbai. Before the madness started, I came home to Guwahati to spend a few days with my family. I was to board the Guwahati – Mumbai train thereon since flight fares were unthinkable for a student those days. It took around 3 days to reach Mumbai and Ma could not imagine me sitting amidst strangers all alone for so many days. Hence, Deta (my father) offered to accompany me to Mumbai and see me to my aunt’s place there. We were late in booking the train tickets and the AC compartments were all full, leaving us with 3 Tier sleeper seats. Deta and I got the vertically arranged seats near the door of the compartment. It was end-June and the heat seared us through the door and the windows. To add to it, the train was to travel through Bihar and our compartment was packed tight with people heading for Bihar. Ticketless, all. They squatted on the floor, some squeezed into spaces on the berths, ignor...