Food for thought

I fear I’m turning into a hardcore vegetarian… it’s the ‘hardcore’ bit that worries me. Before I go on I need to give some history.

We come from a family where our dad’s side is thoroughly non-vegetarian. Our grandfather, it is said, could eat anything that walked. Once he got a duck-like bird that we kept at home. I remember it waddling around our courtyard. It wasn’t meant to be a pet, though. We all knew that. She was biding her time till she made it to our dinner plates. My sister and I grew quite fond of it and one fine day when we came home to find it gone we were terribly depressed. I think our grandfather was the only one who enjoyed his meal that day.

Enter our mother, a hardcore vegetarian. She came from a Jain-like family that shunned onion and garlic. How she must have survived in her new home speaks of an abundance of tolerance and more than a fair share of love for our dad. She agreed to include onion and garlic in her food but she balked at having anything to do with the non-veg part of the kitchen. She wouldn’t cook it, she wouldn’t let us talk about it. Leg piece-breast piece discussions at the dinner table were a complete no no. ‘Her’ food had to be completely insulated from ‘our’ food. More than once she left the dinner table unable to take in the sight of us enjoying our ‘tamsik bhojan’.
Despite her repugnance, the pragmatic mom that she was, she never forbade us from eating any of it. If anything, she encouraged us because she didn’t want us to have to endure what she did. While I was an enthusiastic eater, my sister remained choosy… as we were with food in general. (Which is why I was the plump one while she remained stick thin J)
As a result of the divergent attitudes:
  1. I never did develop our grandfather’s passion (even our dad didn’t get there)
  2. I grew queasy at butcher shops.
  3. But I savoured my biryanis, keemas, kebabs and Rogan joshs. (It seems a little hypocritical in hindsight but that’s the way it was).
  4. At parties paneer tikkas rubbed shoulders with chicken tikkas on my plate.
  5. I did learn to cook meat after I got married.
  6. But I could never bring myself to cut it up.
When Hrit Naisha were born the thought of turning vegetarian first came to me. I still have no explanation why that happened. It began as just a casual reluctance. (And at the back of my mind I was striking one thing off my ‘can eat’ list as an aid to losing some weight). I started off not knowing whether I’ll continue to be one. I was ready to go back to my tikkas and tandooris if I missed them terribly. I never did. Oh I won’t say they never beckoned at all but it wasn’t a huge drive. I’ve been a vegetarian now for over five years.
It has hardly changed anything in my life.. including my weight 🙁 . I still cook it and I hope the kids eat it till they are old enough to make up their minds. I do not want them to grow up with mental blocks. If they feel strongly about vegetarianism they can become one later on.

However the other day The Husband got some chicken. Like our usual practice it’s his job to wash and clean it after which I take over. For the first time, my stomach turned over at the sight of the raw chicken. The sink had red droplets and scraps of fat. That just made it worse. I have been a non vegetarian so it’s kind of weird to feel this way. In fact some times I’ve cleaned the chicken too, although reluctantly, so this comes as a surprise. I hope it’s a passing phase. I really have no tolerance for intolerance.. mine or anyone elses.

Car to take a look?

Thursday Challenge: “CARS” (New, Old, Sedans, Convertibles, Station Wagons, Sports,…)

Disclaimer: The characters featured in this post have been picked solely for their outward appearance due to a total lack of awareness about other aspects of their personality. Information from enlightened souls will be welcomed.
The pictures were clicked by my esteemed sibling (yet again I delve into her collection) at a small roadside car show during a trip to Paris.
Enjoy!



Isn’t she sleek?

 

This one seems to be a winner of some kind of a Louis Vuitton Award



… and this one seems to have lost it’s back

Yellow is the colour of the day

.. and we’re celebrating because today the kids became yellow belts in Taekwondo. Never had I thought this was going to happen. I had been keen on some kind of guided physical activity for the kids since they’d be five soon. The Taekwondo class was conveniently across the road but the kids refused to go. “Let’s just go and look”, I insisted. We went. We watched. We came back. The kids refused to go.
Now I may not be a Chinese mom , but an Indian mom I sure am. So after a week we went again. We watched. We came back. Nope said the kids.
One more try and I’ll give up, I told myself. I let another week go by and we were back. Lo and behold.. the kids agreed. After the first class Naisha’s reaction quite thrilled me, “Mama it wasn’t a class at all. We just played.” Since then they’ve gone happily every day. Check out those moves.

Now, a few months later, they have their yellow belts. Naisha came out after her exam showing off her belt and saying, “Sir said we’ll get our cerfiticate tomorrow.” Cheers. No matter it’s just their first one.. I am celebrating.

On the way to Gir

Finally, finally I can start writing about the Gir trip. Because of the whole thing being a last minute plan we had to take a train from Mumbai to Rajkot and then proceed to the Mahindra Resort at Sasan Gir by road. We reached Bombay station a good two hours before our departure.
When we had moved from Bombay last year, we left behind some very very good friends, one of whom braved the crowded railway station and the sweltering Mumbai heat to spend some time with us at the platform.
The reunion
Waiting for the train was never so much fun
The dear friend arrived with her son and her mom. The son is the twin’s absolute chuddi buddy and his arrival created much excitement. In an unabashed show of affection the boys fought to outshout each other with ear-splitting screams — apparently that’s the way guys profess undying friendship. The daughter did the shy act, hiding behind The Husband till she was coaxed out to join in the shouting, which she soon did with gusto. They then proceeded to exchange valuable information like teaching each other how to make Chinese eyes and trading complex dance steps. Forgive me for the picture quality but the kids were on the move and I just had my phone handy.
That’s how you make Chinese eyes
Check out this cool move
Even after almost an hour the excitement refused to die down. The imminent danger of being ostracized by the other passengers at the station roused us from our own gossip-party. The poor passengers had had their feet stamped umpteen times, their luggage examined and their seats taken up by the young chimps and were beginning to tire of the constant ‘excuse mes’ and ‘sorrys’. We decided it was time to break the party. After many hugs and flying kisses the pals said au revoir.
We loved the train…
Now onto the second happy surprise of the trip. Either I’ve been out of the Railway circuit for a long time or Mamta didi has waved a magic wand. The train seemed like a miracle. For starters it was clean. Barely had we settled down when a young man entered with a broom and cleaned away the non-existent garbage. After a while he appeared with a bottle of Colin and a cleaning cloth to wipe the mirror. The loo was dry and clean. There was a hand shower no dirty-mug-with-a-chain and even a clean tissue roll and liquid soap. Wow. Cheers to progress.
… and so did the kids
Upside down in the train
… for completely different reasons of course. They climbed up and down the berths shouting chai chai, pulled the curtains shut to make their own ‘homes’ and hosted parties for their ‘children’ (Naisha’s Shanti and Hrit’s Mowgli were obviously traveling with us) while we watched with baited breaths waiting for a mishap. Our wait was rewarded by not one but three of them.. three mishaps, I mean. Thrice Hrit fell off the top berth.. twice on his way down and once right from the top. Thankfully he fell on his bum which took the repeated bashing pretty well. The kids weren’t much trouble really. They kept each other busy, were not too noisy (that, I must confess, is a completely subjective observation) and didn’t really bother the other passengers (again, subjective).
We reached Rajkot by 10 am and proceeded to Gir by a taxi. And now as Karan Johar would say, “Hold that thought. I am going into a break”. Baki ki kahani when we get back.
On a happy note, the evil eye has finally lifted from our home and both children are well. As I saw them off on the school bus and waved till it was out of sight (the few perks of being a SAHM) I sent up a thank you prayer for the return of normalcy. I celebrated by putting off all my chores and spending the precious hours watching Once Upon a Time in Mumbai. Yes I know it’s an old one.. but I’ve got used to watching films much after their sell-by date. And once upon a time I was a first-day-first-show girl. *sigh*.