I WATCHED A MOVIE…

.. in the theatre, last Sunday. That’s a huge reason to rejoice because the last time I was there was almost two years back  and before that it was in 2006. That’s a bad bad average for someone who loves films and worse for someone who loves the whole theatre experience…
To begin with there’s the
– The big screen
– The great sound system
– The caramel popcorn
Plus
– The maid doesn’t bother you
– The doorbell doesn’t ring
– You don’t have to yell at the kids to ‘Keep it down’
– Or dodge the ball as it lands on you while they play bat-ball
– Or handle The Husband who just wants ‘a cup of tea please’

 

It’s just you, the popcorn and the film.. bliss.

Of course occasionally you find yourself reaching out for the remote that’s not there but that’s about the only hitch.
The Husband gallantly volunteered to take care of the kids while I went off with the SIL. Needless to say I totally completely loved the film .. oh did I forget to mention the name?.. it was Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. The whole idea of the film is so not me but so what-I-would-love-to-be… I mean what fun it would be to go off with a bunch of friends to do things you would never actually do on your own.
That was fun. Hope we can do it again soon.
In other developments, last Sunday was also the day the kids got their Taekwando green belts. There was much excitement and they were pretty thrilled with themselves. Despite the tiny thing that N is, she did better at the exam according to the instructor’s feed back. So much for H’s macho act.
This weekend was given over to food. We went out for a great Chinese dinner and then I ‘helped’ the kids finish their chocolate mousse.. thus did I desert my diet. And now is the time I start dreading that weighing machine as I ready for the gym. Mondays, I tell you, are the worst days of all.
Edited to add: The verdict at the gym: 800 gms up. Too stiff a punishment for one night of revelry, isn’t it? It’s back to work now.

Samosa Queen

That would be me. There was a time when the only samosa queen I could have imagined myself as, would have been the kind who outdid everyone at eating samosas. However, now that I am a grown up respectable SAHM-to-twins kind of a person, the said epithet has many more dimensions.
In fact, since I’ve had the twins there are times I find myself doing things I could never have seen myself doing… it’s a kind of surreal, out of body experience.. when I look at myself and think ‘Is that really me?’
And so it was when I found myself surfing the Net for a recipe to make samosas. The kids had something called National Day which meant they had to dress up in Indian clothes and carry and an Indian snack and I was instructed to send samosas. They are just not for the readymade ones. I looked for frozen stuff too but gave up when everyone said they had too many preservatives. Google it was then who came to my rescue.
Of course I knew the basics having eaten millions of them. The filling was easy enough – I added some beans and peas to beef up the health quotient of the potatoes. U Tube taught me how to do the dough here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3x17wnChUfY . Then it was simple.. roll small rotis, cut in half, make a cone, fill, seal, fry on slow heat. Pretty doable, I thought.
However, the first one I put in, puffed up like a blooming flower in fast forward and spilt out its entire contents… so did the second and third. I think I hadn’t sealed them properly. After that, the fourth, fifth, sixth.. in fact almost all, fried to perfection. Was I thrilled! The kids loved them… at least Hrit did. Naisha barely tolerates food so if she ate even one at school I am happy.

That’s how the samosas turned out..



THE BAD ONES..



… AND THE GOOD ONES
And that’s how the kids turned out
One of the rare times when they posed perfectly…

.. and then brotherly affection took over.

Points of note: 1. Naisha has her breakfast tucked away in the corner of her mouth
2. Hrit wore that smiley to even things out because he had no accessories like Naisha who had bangles and hair clips

It would seem that ”God helps those who persevere” holds true in the kitchen too, not just in the gym.

While on the gym.. that’s the reason I’ve been a bit laid back on blog posts. I’ve been in exercise mode these past few months. I try to squeeze in short walks when I can, along with the gym and am happy to see some progress. However I still don’t fit into the top which I once could, six months back… so I’m not sure I can call it progress.. I need to reach the base point before I can start talking about actual ‘weight loss’. Sigh!
Oh one happy thing.. a new entrant in the gym asked me if I was married.. Heh heh heh… how’s that for a compliment! Or maybe she thought I was an sulky old spinster. Humph!
Anyway, what with heavy duty cooking and exercising this past week’s been pretty adventurous. I also splashed hot oil on my arm and am currently sporting some awesome blister/boils. I’ll spare you guys the pictures only if I get enough sympathy comments.
PS: I caught myself spraying the loo with my favourite deo. I was just glad I wasn’t spraying room freshener on me. Senility?

Have you ‘bin’ a good girl?

The twins are five and are still not reading. And so these days I’m sitting down with them going over myriad lists of words.. ‘at’ words, ‘et’ words, ‘in’ words and on and on. Each time they recognise a word they get all excited and try to form sentences with rather interesting results. Sample this..

‘in’ words with Naisha

Bin – I’ve ‘bin’ a good girl

Fin – like in Dol’fin’?
Sin – Yes I know this… Naisha ‘Sin’
While on the English language.. this one’s my favourite… In Hrit’s words.. I’m the ‘pickuping’ man… but only when he finds time from ‘cleanuping’ his room.

Happy or Sad?

 

Sometime back I stumbled upon this contest at Indiblogger where you had to write about an instance that made you happy and sad at the same time. Finally now that the contest is ancient history, I have my moment.
The happy news – I lost some weight.. well not much weight… but some solid inches for sure.
The sad news – the weight loss translated into the loss of a dear loved one. My jeans. If you think I’m too much of a material girl (if I can call myself that at 40, ‘girl’ I mean) let me tell you it’s no ordinary pair. It’s my newest possession, about a month old (that’s no age for anyone to be declared dead) and it was love at first sight. It was the perfect blue denim with these cute shiny Swarowsky things at the sides – a real prized possession. Besides it cost almost 4K (The Husband must NOT read this). And now, sigh!, it’s a misfit.

 

According to the ‘think positive’ philosophy that I’m determined to follow I must concentrate on the happy thought of the weight loss.. but it’s really too early to raise a toast, if I’m honest. These vacations I piled on calories like never before — total lack of exercise plus FOOOOD. How I binged and how it showed.

 

So what I’ve lost is just the tip off the four-kg fat iceberg I piled on. Can you believe that .. four kgs in two months! Damn that ice cream, that kulfi, that Lakhnawi chaat and those ghee steeped paranthas. What’s worse the voice of my conscience (that’s my mum) was quiet because she was busy managing work and my not-too-well dad. She had a guilty suspicion she’d driven him to falling ill by her constant nagging about his weight. You see she’s the conscience of the entire household. And so, though she did bring up my weight, she wasn’t really in form.

 

Back from Lucknow, as I browsed at Shoppers the only T shirt that fitted me was a bright red one… unfortunately it bore the inscription ‘I love my bump’. The only bumps I had then were goosebumps.

 

I have been slogging it out most conscientiously at the gym since that fateful day.. trying to squeeze in 6 days a week plus a short walk when I can.  And look where it’s landed me.
This pretty friend of mine will now be relegated to the dark confines of the they-don’t-fit-me-anymore clothes’ cupboard, waiting to be worn again some day. Only I can’t but hope I never fit into this one.. or do I?