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 https://www.facebook.com/anaajkanashta 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.

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 http://housing.com. The prompt: #Together.

Starting A New Life As A Wannabe Cook

2004

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.

2015

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 Housing.com  The prompt was: Start A New Life.

    

An Accidental Writer

Numbers were never my favourites. In fact, I was a big zero in them. But then I had to prove to the world that I had something in me that could make the world sit back and notice. I would put in all the donkey work that is required and do Chartered Accountancy course at all cost. My father warned me against it. My mother warned me against me. And even my aloof brother gave me his piece of mind saying that CA was not my cup of tea. But then I knew, I will put in all that is required and some more to clear the exams.

When the exam days came closer, I knew, I hadn’t prepared well. But then how could one prepare those subjects that one hates the most? And so during the exams days, I sought shelter in our old house. I used to leave the house at dot time and then make my way toward our old house. I would jump the boundary wall, unlock the keys and sit there  in the hall amidst dirt and dust. Nope, I din’t have the nerve to flunk the exams, but being absent was OKAY with me.

The results were as expected. I got A in all subjects. Buddu, A,here stands for absenteeism. I had lost all hopes of studying ahead. I didn’t know what to do. As a result, I decided to work for an NGO that worked for both Hindus and Muslims.  It was year 2004; yes the year when Godhra riots happened. I too was caught in the midst of it.  The biggest plus of this endeavor was that I got to represent my NGO in one of the biggest camps set up for Muslims in Shah-e-alam area.  There were several rape victims, burnt victims, injured victims, orphan victims and victims covered every nook and corner of the camp. Little wonder, journalists started swarming the space. Journalists from  NDTV, Aaj Tak, Times of India, Indian Express and all became frequent visitors. I was in awe of them. The camp refugees were in awe of them. (As journalists become the cynosures of all eyes, NGO workers were sidelined.)  I could sense the partial behavior of the camp people and then I decided to be one like them. Eventually, I resigned from my position as Project Manager of this NGO, and  joined a course in Journalism.  

Once the course was over, I joined The Asian Age Newspaper.  The raw wounds of not completing CA began to heal. I had found my true calling… writing. I was not much of a writer earlier (if you consider me one). For me journalism was all about adventure. But my stint in the newspaper taught me that to be a good journalist you need to communicate well – both through writing and speaking.  Thus started my long journey towards reading and writing. Without reading, writing is not possible. Today, I live in the world of Harry Porters and Hobbits. And I  am happy. And I feel fulfilled. Now even my elder one has developed a penchant for reading. And that makes me a lot more happier.  

 This entry is part of https://housing.com/lookup stories. 

Adding a dash of colour this Valentine’s Day

http://www.quotesvsfun.com/

Come Valentine Day, I hope my parents- in law could take a break from their hectic schedules, and fly off to Kerala.

 Why?

So that I could have all the time in this world with my sweetheart hubby and the house for myself. So that I could dress in a seductive way and sweep him off his feet once again. So that I could bake creamy cakes for him once again. So that I could decorate my room with red heart shaped balloons and teddies once again. So that I could fill the house with the perfume of love ---over and over again.

I will have:

Candles to illuminate the decor

Cakes to whet his appetite

Continental to tease his taste buds

Candies to sweeten his tongue  

I know this will be all hard work. But then this is a once in a time opportunity to win over the love of your life once again. So why not slog a little. Bend a little. Sweat a little this Valentine’s day. Trust me, it will be worth the effort.

People move heaven and earth to be with the love of their lives. I just need to spend some time in the kitchen heat.

It’s been like ages I and hubby have not spent any private time together. This is the the best of the year. So why not make the most of it.

Oh!!! I forget about kids.

I’ll pack them off to my sis’s place, Let them spent some quality time with their cousins.

I know this will be all hard work. But then I wish my hubby knows that I love him. Time waits for no man. Within no time, we’ll grow old and all this celebrations will become meaningless. If we do it right now, at least we will have some sweet memories which we can reminisce about when we are in the twilight of our lives.

I’ve seen my parents grow old. No doubt, there are an epitome of sacrifice and love and spent all their lives loving each other and leading a contended life. But then, they never had a life of their own. They never lived for themselves. No doubt, they are inseparable and love each other, but I do feel they lead a drab, dull life with no adventure and entertainment of any sort.

No doubt they are great and i admire them a lot, but i promised myself to add some colour to my life. And to lead a little more loving life with my hubby dear. People come and ago, but your sweetheart stays struck with you forever, come rain or shine.

Valentine’s Day is a day of love. Come let us share this day with our better-halves and make it memorable. 

This post is part of  Indi-happy hours contest held in association with close-up. For more info visit: http://cupidgames.closeup.in/.

I agree to your diktat of not altering this post for a full year.

  

Why my mother waited till wee hours for me

I was always a headstrong girl. So naturally, there were no two ways to my ways. It was only my way and my way only.  So when I decided to join a newspaper, where nights-shifts were common, my parents had not much say in it.

But fortunately my parents were cut from a different cloth.  They accepted my head-strong, quirky ways. My father was a go-getter himself, so when his daughter showed similar traits, he hadn’t much to say, though he had lot to say. BTW, which parent  would want their daughter to do night-shifts. But all said and done, they wanted their kids to be SUPER ACHIEVERS. EXTRA ORDINARY. When my father’s friends emphasized their daughters on doing household chores, my parents barred us from entering the kitchen. Study hard. Work Hard. Their only motto in life.

Little wonder, my siblings are doing super-good in their respective fields, while I am trying to build my career and reputation so that my parents could look up to me, at least someday, if not today.  Marriage has mellowed me. Family has suddenly assumed  priority.

But I was not the same Jini 10 years back. Bubbling with enthusiasm and excitement I had enrolled for a a Pg in Journalism and Communication. Once I was through with the cause, I joined the Asian Age Newspaper. Given that my house was a good 20 kms away from the press, the editor took pity on me and put me on the features team. (For the uninitiated, the newspaper industry demands night shifts, features team can leave early). I was enjoying my time in the features department. I made pages, wrote some frivolous stories, solicited celebrities and all. And, more importantly, I reached home on time, i.e., before 8 pm.

But then after spending a considerable amount of time in the features department, I was shifted to hard news desk. Here the reporters were supposed to stay back and proofread copies when the first drafts were ready. Simply put, the reporters had to stay back till 1.00 or 2.00 am in the night.

Now the actual story starts here. My parents were unable to understand my obsession for Journalism. They wanted me to quit this industry (though eventually I did). But I was stubborn and wanted to continue it at all costs. And my returning late nights literally terrified them, especially my mother.

But then their fears were not unfounded. Once I was returning home around 2.00 am (I can feel goose pimples while writing this) I felt this boy following me. I don’t know from where I got this courage from, but I was absolutely fearless. (Probably, the hymns that I keep singing while riding alone gave me the confidence to take him head-on. I rose above fear). Let him follow, I told myself.  So he followed me for at least 10 kms and then suddenly he speeds his bike and stands in front of me, saddled on his bike. Now, let me tell you, the entire road was deserted and silent, so much so that you could hear the pin drop. But then instead of stopping my two-wheeler and getting frightened, I simply maneuvered my vehicle and went my way.  Luckily the boy didn’t follow. What If he had? I had decided to punch him left, right and center.   Anyway, when I shared this story with my parents, they didn't seem disturbed enough. And that disturbed me, for i thought that they will crack under the weight of my revelation. But what I came to know later on was that my mother never slept before me after that incident.  She would stay wide awake till 1am or 2 am and keep praying for my safety till I returned home. Once she would hear the gates of the house opening in the night, she knew i was home and thereafter she would sleep peacefully thereafter.

I showed the same spirit when there were riots in our city in 2002. It was international news. But I can vividly remember, taking my two-wheeler and riding alone on deserted roads and sometimes with my peer in the curfew hit areas of the city. It gave me a different high.

Those were the days.  I was a rebel, a maverick, hot-blooded woman to the core, courageous from every fiber of my being. A wild, pompous prick to be precise. Nothing could stop me. Neither rain, pain nor shine. If rains flooded our areas, I would take a ride in an open tempo to the office. Literally. Those were the days. 

I still have the same spirit buried in some corner of my heart. 

I will ensure that this blog post remains accessible in an un-altered state for a minimum of one year.

This blog post is written for Mountain Dew 'Rise Above Fear' contest held in association with indiblogger.