Friday 4 January 2019

The White Tiger - Aravind Adiga

This Booker prize winner was on my bookshelf I don’t for how long. Attempted reading it before, but then dumped it because the content grossed me out. I kept thinking all the while:” is there anything more to this book than ammonia leaks, fucking jokes, and scratching groins.”

And, then one fine day, when I had forgotten about all these nitty-gritty I thought of picking this book once again, with a do or die attitude. “I am gonna finish it this time, no matter how taxing it proves on me,” I told myself.

HOOYAH! The White Tiger?  Done and dusted! Finally!

And, here’s my take on the same: 

India, at large can be divided into categories of people.  People who Eat or get Eaten Up.  The book precisely revolves around this concept. The India of Darkness comprises of people who let themselves be eaten up by people belonging to India of Light.

Though India is known to be a growing economic superpower, the majority of them live in darkness. The conflict between these two India’s is what forms the foundation of this book.

Balram Halwai, the hero of this story, is born in Dark portion of India. He’s is a bright student and nicknamed as the White Tiger, the rarest of the rare animal, that appears only once in a generation. But then, born in utter poverty, the only thing that he dreams of becoming is a bus conductor. Why? It’s because it’s the best way to escape poverty in his village and enter the brighter portion of India.

Escape, he does, but then he carries an eternal wound in his heart - the death of his rickshaw puller father because of tuberculosis.  From then onwards his journey toward the light is laced with harsh and selfish incidents. From being a human spider at a tea stall he eventually becomes the driver of a Honda city car that belongs to the U.S returned guy Asoka. He manages to kill Ashoka and take all the cash from him to set up his own cab business in Bangalore. The police fails to catch him because the most-wanted poster they have come up with could easily match with any other random guy you could find on the street. And, maybe because, he had managed to fill the police commissioner’s pocket with loads and loads of cash. 

So, now Balram Halwai is a known businessman who runs maybe…what, 16 cabs and is in hand-in-glove with the police. Any accident his cab drivers commit is cleverly covered up. But the worst part is that he really doesn’t know what has happened to his people in his village after he committed that murder. Probably his relatives were skinned alive by Ashoka’s family.   Who cares? Balaram cares. But doesn’t care enough to really find out whether they were dead or alive. But then, it was expected. To escape The Great Indian Rooster Coup he had to sacrifice a few lives, what if they were his relatives. People of The Great Indian Rooster Coup allow their rich butcher masters to slaughter them one after the other.  Given a chance, they won’t want to leave the coup. Servitude is inbred in them. Breaking the coup means paying with the lives of your people at home.  Balram was not ready for this servitude. And he was ready to pay the price as well.

This Book Review is part of The Write Tribe Reading Challenge 2019.   

Friday 28 December 2018

The Write Tribe Reading Challenge 2019

25 Books and More. Let me C what kind of reader am i?

  • 24 books – you’re a Book Lover
  • 36 books – you’re a Book Worm
  • 48 books – you’re a Book Geek
  • 60 books and above – you’re a Book Nerd


Tuesday 31 January 2017

Gujarat to Goa - A Photo Story

Goa - It's 3702 square kms of pure adrenaline, where the sun, the sea and the sand never go on a vacation.

But then, for me and my family, it was the Holy churches, Home-stay concept and the Carpet of greenery turned out to be the ultimate showstoppers. (Talking about churches and greenery, Goa and Kerala could be referred as twin sisters. They are so much alike in terms of food, climate, churches and the greenery around. The moment we entered Goa I became extremely nostalgic.)

Ajit Navelkar's house in North Goa - the place we stayed in for 4 days 

Aryan and Ayaansh relaxing on a sleeper chair inside the living room 

One of the two bedrooms

We were in Thivim, Goa from January 23, 2017, to January 27, 2017,  and we loved every bit our stay at Ajit Navelkar’s Villa. We had booked his house online through Airbnb, and I tell you, it was worth every penny spent. My younger one liked the house so much so that he nicknamed it as our “Doosra Ghar.” 

The Dining Area

By the way, our Doosra Ghar was huge. The living room was spacious and lovely.  From the wooden lamps to the lighting arrangement to the perfectly synced wall frames and the wooden furniture, almost everything was perfect. The bedrooms were equally spacious and likable.  Though our train was 5 and half hours late, the sight of the room took our fatigue away and we decided to hit the Goa roads immediately. The itinerary was prepared in advance by Ajit. So we knew the places we were headed for beforehand.  

So let’s start with our journey:

Day 1: Basilica of Bom Jesus, Chruch of St.Francis of Assisi and The Miramar Beach

St. Augustine Tower 

Our tour started at around 2 pm on Ajit’s Toyota Innova, as we touched Goa late, and our first stop was St.Augustine’s tower. This place falls en route to the churches we had planned for the day. We couldn’t spend some time here though I wished to because the sun was right on our head, and my family was already tired from the train journey

The Dead Body Of St. Francis Xavier stored in a coffin @ 

The Basilica of Bom Jesus 

Next point: The Basilica of Bom Jesus, built by Portuguese from 1594 to 1606. The church holds special significance for Christians because it holds the mortal remains of St. Francis Xavier. It’s one of pilgrimage sites for Christians world over and especially those who live in India. Goa being a tourist destination, this church sees people from all faiths, besides Christians. In India, the second pilgrimage center for Christians is at Velankanni. You can see Hindus and Muslims in good numbers, admiring the beauty of the basilica. Two more churches surround the basilica. That means you’ve got loads to see and absorb here, especially the Gothic architecture. Don't rush through things. Spent some time here.

However, one thing to remember here is to hire a guide who stands at the entrance. Pay a hundred bucks and you will be guided all through the castle. It's worth it, I tell you. Otherwise, you will just roam around the place and know nothing about the Chruch’s history. Why I am telling you this is because most don't want a spend a 100 Rs. more on hiring a guide.  

Plus, there’s an art gallery as well attached to one of the churches here and Portuguese graves (more on this in a minute).

One of the two churches that stand adjacent to the Basilica 

What's more, there is two Christian souvenir shops as well right opposite to the Basilica. Even if you don't plan to buy anything there, it's worth a look.

From here you can take a ride to Miramar beach. It’s not big as the other popular beaches of Goa, but then, the beach is good in itself and most importantly, it's in close proximity to the church and so you can reach here without wasting much of your time.

Day 2: Dudhsagar Waterfalls and Spice Gardens

Dudhsagar Waterfalls

It was 85 km ride from our Goa home. Ajit had packed some good number of wafer packets and cold drinks to ensure that we stayed hydrated for our entire journey. Once we reached a particular point, we had swap places with yet another vehicle (Sumo), which would go through the water and help us reach the waterfalls.  We were told the Toyota we were traveling wouldn’t take us to the waterfalls, because the terrain is treacherous and the vehicle has to pass through the water.

On Our Way To The Waterfalls

But then, the trip turned out to be tiring. The Sumo dropped us at a particular point and from there we were on our own. We had to walk a few km's before the actual waterfalls arrived. And carrying Ayaansh in our hands all the way was not that easy.  He was cranky all the time. Once we reached, the rocks turned out to be pretty slippery. Maxin, my husband almost fell in the water when he entered the water wearing his shoes. So keep your shoes and socks off to get a strong footing inside the water.

Sumos' drive through the water to take you to a particular point at

 Dudhsagar Waterfalls

The place was really enjoyable only if we could take a dive and feel the water around you. With my 3-year-old son at hand, it seemed a little impossible. So all that we could take with us from Dudhsagar was the long trek towards the waterfalls and how we enjoyed putting our legs inside the shallow puddles in the nook and crannies.  

Word of Advice: Avoid this place if you kids are too small. You will have to carry them in your arms all the way, which makes the trip really tiring. Also, keep bisleri bottles handy. The trek is long. 

Dropped Spice Garden trip because of Ayaansh. Nope, we didn’t have the energy to carry him in our arms and walk anymore.

Day 3: Dolphin Point, Aguada Fort and Baga Beach

Dolphin Point

View of Aguada fort from Dolphin Point

This day was the best of all three days we had here in Goa. Dolphin point was super good. We managed to see a bunch of Dolphins diving in and out of the water.

Ayaansh having a fun time at Baga Beach

But what takes the cake was Baga Beach. My younger son went beserk, seeing the water and all.  Oh My God, Oh My God, you should have seen him enjoying. Soaked to the head, he was displaying swimming antics and all. This image of his will be etched in my memories forever.

Aguada fort

And yes, the Aguada fort, under the hot sun, we couldn’t really appreciate the ancientness of this place. Built my the Portuguese there’s a jail and all here.

Day 4: Portuguese Graves 

Nothing much. It was up to us to decide on the itinerary. So we decided to take it easy. Visited Basicila of Bom Jesus once again, the art gallery that lies in close proximity and the 116 Portuguese graves that we missed visiting on day one. (The graves are located in close proximity to the Basilica) That was it.  And we headed back to the villa.

116 Portuguese graves inside a chruch

We thought it was better to pack our bags and spent some time at the villa than going around and wetting our clothes at the beaches.  Anyway, we had made up our minds on visiting Goa once again. 

The Last Day Selfie


Dress Code: Shorts, Capris, jeans tops, beachwear, anything and everything will do...avoid behenji style of dressing. People are cool here. No one is gonna stare at you. They are used to beach wears with Russian and European tourists flooding the beaches and other places in swarms.

Food: Target small tin -thatched shops. The food is cheap there and they will customize it as per your preference. For us it was Rohit - this tin-thatched shop was within 200 meters of our home.

Junk Jewelry: You will find them at beaches, specifically at Dolphin point. But bargain is the catchword here. I got one. Wanted a few more but then had to keep a leash on my wishes. Am I not a Spartan lifestyle follower?

Hit the beaches and heritage spots asap. Even if you are tired, spend some time on the beaches. It will get you recharged.

I didn’t have enough of this place.  It’s more than a week now and thoughts of Churches, beaches and all still linger.

Last word: Plans of vacationing in Goa, stay at Ajit Navelkar’s house/villa at least for once. Be assured, you’ll never regret the stay, even for once. Anyway, you don’t have to take my word for it. Go ahead and check out other reviews on Airbnb as well. By the way, all speak the same :D.

Saturday 13 June 2015

City Mental Asylum – Room No. 3

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 55; the fifty-fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​Rashmi Kumar, the author of Hooked, Lined and Single and Jyoti Arora, the author of Lemon Girl. .

“Avaya, c’mon, give that to me.”

“What? This?

Nope! Never!

Come rain or shine, but I won’t.”

“Dear, you know when you see that pic an insane urge attacks you. I dunno from where.”

“What? Come again.”

“No, nothing .”

“I said, come again Avinash.”

“No, it’s nothing Avaya. I said nothing.”

“I don’t want to hear that again. Do you get that?”

“Okay. Great. I’ll zip my lip forever, if that’s what you want.”

“I can’t fancy speaking anything that makes you go nutters like this. In fact, I haven’t said anything at all.

Now, give that picture. Giving or not?”

“Get lost. That’s mine: forever. Did you get that?” Said Avaya, tears leaking from her eyes.

In next to no time, there’d be a downpour.
And there it was. She was gone.

“Avaya, open the door. Damn it! Open the door, I said.”

“I will. Just give me a break. Will you?”

“Nope, I can’t take this anymore. Come out now or I will break in.”

Avin… er… Avinash, can you just shut up and go away. Give me a minute at least.

Okay, fine enough. I am out.

Avinash, thought for a minute, how nice it would have been if he could simply transfigure into Avin forever and embrace Avaya’s pain?  Avin was the world for Avaya. Avinash ranked somewhere down the priority list for her. He was probably no more than a stupid, slimy scumbag for her now. But then there was no getting around the fact that, Avinash’s heart ached for Avin a hundred times more than Avaya. But then he could never work up his nerve to tell her that. Never in his life, at least so far, could he stick out for himself. 

It was he who Avin loved the most, given that he was father-friend to him – played, panicked, partnered and pacified him whenever needed. He was always around him, unlike his mother who had other agendas on mind so so often. Probably, that was the reason she could never overcome his going away.   
So now, there was just one thing that was eating away their lives now. Grief. He was trying hard to get over it, but Avaya wouldn’t let him.  The rains brought memories fluttering back to her mind year after year and she’d start behaving oddly.    

Now, at least, the best way to skive off this situation was to leave her alone for some time.   


The milieu outside was no different. It was pouring. His heart suddenly grew lighter.

As if the rain gods got a clue of his mind beforehand and acted promptly.

Avinash never minded the rains. It was his only source of joy in life, though Avaya had a diametrically opposite opinion. She hated rains from every single fiber of her being.

He enjoyed them. He enjoyed them because he could cover his overwhelming emotions easily under them. If it was not for the rains, his heart would have literally burst out from his body. He couldn’t show to the only love of his life that he equally is vulnerable. But then he had put up a strong front before her. He wouldn’t allow himself him to go into pieces in front of her.

This was first rains of the reason. The mango tree out there seemed unhappy too, instead of swaying happily as it usually did, it stood there lifeless like a dead tree. It hardly bore mangoes now. As if it had given up its will to live forever. It was just biding its time.

Then a sudden burst of understanding dawned on Avinash, doesn’t Avaya hold us both responsible for her sorrow? No wonder, the tree looks so grief-stricken. It too had developed an inordinate liking for Avin, until that fateful rainy day, when rain Gods imperiously conspired against both of them. Of course, the rain Gods had made up their mind that time. As they thundered down in full force. Suddenly, there was cloud burst backed by a deafening roar of lightning. Avinash's stomach had lurched. But then instead of running in, Avinash had lingered around the mango tree with Avin. Avin faced the brunt. Avinash still couldn’t believe it…the rain God had turned himself into a Grim Reaper and had come fully prepared to ambush Avin.   


“Come on in,” Avaya shouted, suddenly breaking  me out of my reverie, “I am preparing breakfast.”

Avinash made his way slowly, amidst puddles of water, to the stairs, and towards the living room.

And waited there patiently, patting himself clean, and hearing to his hearts' poundings;

The sky outside seemed to be in a murderous mood today, he thought.

There was a loud burst of thunder followed by lightning, and he stood there fearing: What next?

And sure enough, he could hear Avaya sobbing. And he knew in his hearts of hearts that the entire scene would get repeated once again. She would start crying hard and yet again he would have no control over her. Yet again he would have to take refuge in rain.

But then she was not wrong in her ways. She had every right to hate him and the rain gods. She had forewarned both of us 5 years back, that was.


“It’ s raining heavily. Can you guys simply get in the house? But then, I and Avin had a special affair with rains. It’s one of those bewitching seasons that I and Avin simply couldn’t think of missing.

“Let your mom keeping shouting at the top of her voice and bring down the roof as well if she wants to. But we will keep enjoying.” I had shouted at Avin from somewhere behind the tree, as thunderous downpour blinded our visions completely.   

“Stop it and get in,” she shrieked at the top of the voice.

“Just 10 more mins mom and we will be in.”

But there was no stopping Avin. He went round and round the tree playing with me. Then in a moment there was a flash of lightning and our lives where changed, of course for the worst, forever.

He lay there on the ground, turning blue. I couldn’t take it. My only son… the why of life…

Our next-door doctor, hearing the commotion outside our house, rushed in to our compound.  He too was drenched by now, though his sprawling bungalow was just 10 steps away. He checked the pulse of my boy immediately. I could see right through him. He was sure…the boy…my boy…nope…nope…nope…

“How could you play in such heavy rains with a six year old kid Avinash that too around a tree?”  the doctor gave me highly questionable look and blurted out, “you really are an irresponsible father?

The entire blame felt squarely on me. I looked up at the tree in disbelief. It was there when things happened. Probably, it was equally responsible. But as a father, my responsibility towards my son was not tad, but thousands times more.  


“Chop it down, I said. Did you hear me, Chop it down, or I will bring an axe and do the job myself.” Avaya shouted at the top of her voice.

 “Nope, don’t do it. I and Avin have too many shared memories here to chop it down so ruthlessly.  How he enjoyed swinging from its branches. Then he also loved climbing onto the tree and making space for himself amidst those dense branches savouring  delicious mouth-watering mangoes. How could you just forget that. This tree is not just a tree. It was his best friend Avaya,” Avinash was trying his best to make Avaya see sense
“Please Avaya, understand. It was accident. I know, I shouldn’t have let him played in such heavy rains, but then I am really sorry. If you hold the tree responsible, then what’s your opinion about me?

“Nope, nothing I would hear. Chop that heartless tree down now,” she thundered.


But then, I was not too ready to obey her commands. The memories of Avin were fresh in mind and both the tree and Avin had a special relation.

The fresh showers had brought back fresh memories of Avin alive. It was same fateful day, 5 years back when Avin bade goodbye to us: forever.

Avaya has never been normal since then. Our relationship has not been normal since then. She had lost her only kid. I understand. I, his father was construed as the culprit so I didn’t have the right to cry as well.
I too have been driven on the verge of insanity since them, my own guilt feelings and Avaya’s accusations on top of it. Thanks to these rains, I can pour my heart out, at least once in a while. I simply go and embrace the mango tree and start weeping. We have been partners in crime. Both helpless in a way. But it was time now. 

They both couldn’t take it anymore. A world without Avin. Both equally missed him.

The fresh rains have come as a blessing in a disguise. Yet another lightning struck.

This time it took two more down.

Avaya stood there speechless.

Who killed them she kept on asking herself . “No I didn’t, no I didn’t.”

And then let out a wail that would have the brought the roof down

The inmates of the hospital gathered instantly and put chains around her hands and legs.

Now she was tied to bed, where she writhed in pain crying her heart out.

This time the intensity had just doubled; it was raining hard and fast outside.

But what she never realized was that it was never the rain Gods that had wreaked havoc in her life, her past was catching up with her. Had she ever taken her family for granted?
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 04. Image Credits: Monsoon by Yann (Wikimedia Commons). Shared with GNU Free Documentation License CC Attribution-Share Alike.

Tuesday 24 March 2015

Yummilcious Mornings with Kelloggs

The mere mention of momos can make my Aryan go week in his knees. So, there have been days when i have literally got up in between 1 and 2 pm in the night to steam momos, so that my family could wake up to the fragrance of this lip-smacking recipe.  Yes, life is a struggle and i am struggling full-on, though not always, to keep up with its gradually accelerating tempo. With a full-time job and a toddler who demands continual attention, some mornings arrive with a crude awakening that it's already 5.30 am. Kitchen is out-of-bounds for me now. Why? Because, my Ayaansh is up by this time.

So, there have been several mornings when my elder son goes to school without having anything. If i get up early, he has his fill or else, he goes off with a glass of milk. I feel guilty and make it a point to get up as early as possible. But then we are humans, not machines. There are days when we love to spend some more time in the bed and relax. It’s during these days, a quick fix breakfast recipes like aloo poha or vermicili upma comes to my rescue. Aloo Poha is my Aryan’s favourite. For a change, i even give chocolate corn flakes flanked by apples for breakfast. The biggest plus is that he savors them. Sometimes he has it dry with no milk. Such quick breakfast recipes are literally a saving grace for mothers like me who are always fighting against time. Yes, these are extremely easy to make.  Breakfast recipes without breaking a sweat. 

And how can i forget? With MIL as a great source of support, for she does all the cooking, things have always been easy at my end. But then roti and sabji becomes too mundane and too boring sometimes. You crave for change. That’s were my momos, theplas, pastas, pohas, manuchrians come into picture. Idli, dosas, hot samosas are yet on my to-do list. But then, they consume a hell lot of time. How i wish my family could make a visit to #KelloggWaaleGupjaji's home at least once in a week and taste Mrs. Gupta’s quicky corn flake recipes. Oh!!!You do not know of them, just check out and you will be surprised to know that Mrs. Gupta can whip up a whopping 100 yummilicious breakfast dishes from Kellogg's Corn flakes. And why wouldn't she? Kellong’s has come up with detailed recipes for all 100 dishes. There’s Best Tiffin Wala Nashta, Passing the Parcel Wala Nashta, Nakhara Wala Nashta, First Crush Wala Nashta, Jagah Banaa Wala Nashta and much, much more. There’s one receipe for every reason and season.  So, just read them up and welcome every morning, with a very big Good Morning.

Hmmmm. My hubby won’t mind any other woman, apart from his own, rustling up a corn flake recipe. He’s sure to go gaga about it, I know. And probably will lick his fingers after he finishes his bowl. Nope, i cannot make them, for he hates the smell and taste of milk. However, that’s not the case when he goes outside. His polite mannerisms are in full display. And you won’t believe your eyes when he gobbles down those cornflakes recipes without a whimper. But then, my Aryan’s loves them too. Hope even Ayaansh takes after him.

Saturday 14 March 2015

Attacking Kitchen Together On A Weekend With Hubby

I and my husband have been sharing the same roof together for over 10 years now. “What so magical about it? Every husband and wife, more or less, share the same roof,” you might ask.  hmmm...Our case is a lil unique for we've being not being able to stand each other for quite some time. Tu, Tu, mein, mein keeps happening all the time. I and my ego and he and his ego have bandbajoified our marriage. And, what takes the cake is the fact that we stay in a joint family, and it has only added more cracks in our marriage, or probably that's what I love to believe. 

All said and done, we together had our share of some good old memorable days as well. Bunking office and going for a Vidya Balan movie, followed by lunch at a renowned restaurant, and then enjoying a short stopover at the roadside tea stall for a quick cuppa. (Why Vidya Balan movie? Because, she’s my favorite and I can swoon over her sarees forever.) Okay, I am digressing here. What I was saying is that all these outings, though it happens only once in a blue moon, have forever cemented their place in my memories. No one dare erase them.  And this reminds me, that we need to do this more often, given that it acts as an oxygen for our married life…It keeps our marriage live and happening.

However, the most memorable day was the day(which happened a few months back) when I and my hubby got together to ruzzle up a delicious chicken briyani meal for the entire family on a weekend. My MIL was in the office and I had a day off, so for a change, we had the entire kitchen at our disposal. Both of us spend some good four hours in the kitchen chopping veggies, cooking rice, frying chicken and then assembling together with loads of patience and a thadka of a nervousness - whether it will turn out well or not, after it was our first try. But since he took over at the crucial stages of cooking: by ensuring the rice is properly half-cooked, that chicken is fully cooked, and the right quantity of colors and dry fruits are being used, I knew the biryani would at least be eatable. The result: the whole family enjoyed the meal and I loved it too. Yes, the end result was surprising to both us. It was for the first time we had undertaken a biryani project and it turned out successful at the first attempt itself...Hip Hip Hoorah!!! Hopefully, going forward I could do something similar for him, on my own and that too with loads of confidence.

Final Thoughts:

After a time period every relationship gets stale and empty and so one needs to invest a lil more in them to bring back the lost magic.  Even cooking together is one of the best ways of doing it. Hope, you agree with me.

The blog is part of The prompt: #Together.

Tuesday 10 March 2015

Starting A New Life As A Wannabe Cook


What's Cooking? Heck. I will learn it some other day, but not today. Cooking is not my type. But then i got married that year.


It's been over 10 years of marriage and i am still leading my life as a wannabe cook. With two kids in toe and a food freak hubby who keeps salivating at the mere mention of sweets and other delicacies, i feel at loss today. What if i had learnt cooking before marriage. Now, i would have been a professional cook, whipping out malai koftas, mutter paaners like celebrity chef Sanjeev Kapoor. Hmmm...(And with MIL doing all the cooking, i hardly get a chance either. On top of it, she cooks well. Her south Indian recipes specially make you go ummm...)

But one day, i'll have to pull up my socks. So, today, i made gobi manchurian for my elder son's lunch. Didn't turn out as expected...all soggy and mushy, though I found it eatable enough. But then my hubby looked the other way. And that made me a little sad. Yes, my hubby is the best sounding board for me. He loves good food and can easily make out from the looks of it, whether the recipe is a disaster or a success. And yes, he can cook as well. So, the long and short of it is, i have to give the best shot, whichever recipe i am making.

I made cake once. And it turned out too good. My Aryan went ga-ga over it. Second time, i made it, and it was a colossal disaster. Fine. I will try again. Let's C. And yes, the first time i made idlis, it turned out well. It was 5 years back. This year, i tried again, thanks to my mother's prompting, it was somewhat okay. Not a total disaster. Again, my hubby looked the other way. "Too soft. The content wasn't right," hubby darling quipped. My confidence level took a beating. I decided never to try it again. But my angel mother advised: never give up. It only through mistakes that you learn. You will have to keep trying everytime...or you will never be able to cook. So, i am going to try again this year. And won't wait for 5 more years to gather back my lost confidence.
Mistakes are the stepping stones to perfection, they say. Ain't they.

I regret my past. For cooking was never on my to-do list. It was always studies and sports. Come to think of it, most of the woman don't cook before marriage. Fortunately, or unfortunately i was one among them. And since i was full of myself, i didn't learn much from my MIL also. So, here i am, learning, unlearning, my cooking skills through cookbooks and online cooking sites. By the way, isn't self-learning, the best learning.

Final Thought: Like all skills, honing your cooking skills is equally important. It doesn't matter whether you are man or woman.  Depending too much on outside food could lead to heart ailments and all. So, better late than never. Start cooking now, if you really value life.

This post is part of  The prompt was: Start A New Life.


The White Tiger - Aravind Adiga

This Booker prize winner was on my bookshelf I don’t for how long. Attempted reading it before, but then dumped it because t...