Frantic. Frenzied. Flurrying. I can soundly vouch that life for every board student would have deviously swivelled into a similar order of words; and when these undulating tides of fate vociferously clang into the namby-pamby jetties of our life, all that ignorance which we feign shatters and words like Davies’ come to mind…”WHAT is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare? No time to stand beneath the boughs, and stare as long as sheep and cows…”
So, pitted under the servility of class 10, when I come grimacing home, there is but one leeway where I can (thankfully) seek solace- where all the ignominious double-math lessons give way to plain introspection. Complete serendipity indeed! Where, engulfed by the puissant sanctity of foliage and the invigorating chirps of little garden birds, I can selflessly plunge into my sphere, a place tucked away in complete secrecy, impermeable, immune to everyone but myself.
Surprisingly, I speak not of a magniloquent chamber or one that is pretentious in any regard. I speak of an area adjacent to our dining place, unfrequented, just a wrought iron swing, 2 dim lights, flanked by an array of cacti, and bristling floral plumage! The place to be when I’m down and out, or hurt and saddened by reel and rout, or stumped, entwined in nervous wreck, demeaned, despised…a ridiculed speck…
Amazingly, just swinging too and fro, splurged into my sphere, reading Shakespeare, writing poetry, doing tarot or reciting verse to the whisking gusts conjures a feeling of nonchalance- rejuvenating-holy-exhilarating! I am able to connect up with myself wholeheartedly!
While I’m in my expanse, my volume, I feel like a defunct radio set…sans frequency, yet so reverberant in the white noice, as if I am no son, grandchild, student or friend but an aimless drifter, a helmsman in the desert, a tradesman in the tavern, a resilient human being- Nikhil- ONE.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Le Foodie essentiel (heartfelt confessions of the morsel'er)
Food. The mere noun stirs ecstasy by bringing to nose an array of tantalising aromas, to tongue an invigorating slurp of insipid saliva, to mind a pompous feast of eclecticism and to the good-ol’ belly, a fullness of inherent satisfaction. Evidently the quintessence of the ephemeral pleasures of everyday life, food is the unproclaimed prerequisite, the unprecedented indispensability, the absolute.
For centuries food has been rendered as the promiscuous allurer of mankind. It tempted, enticed, appeased and inveigled and continues to do the same with persistent audacity, in a manner both effusive and gratifying. From Napoleon’s perfumed cheese, to Italy’s stark wines, from lavish hints of Maharajah’s spices to the bland tang of Sushi, food has always transcended continental barriers in a diverse and unparalleled manner.
There is a very thin line that separates ‘eaters’ from ‘foodie’s’. The first, fastidious and hasty are those for whom fodder merely remains a necessity- an arduous round of spending, cooking, consuming and excreting. Then there is that latter minority that will put their heart and soul into the food and eat each crumb as if it’s the last they will ever have! I myself vouch to belong to the latter cult- those who display a true penchant and willing servitude for the grains, the true foodies, for whom seeking emancipation from the morsels, is but blasphemous!
Talk of anything from gulping gol- gappas to oozy spaghetti, slurping exotic shakes, delving into chocolate cakes, relishing ghar ka rajma chawal, polishing dosas with litres of sambhar, diving head- first into chaat papri, chomping chicken tikka with dollops of chutney, crumbling tarts or scrumptious pies, lip- smacking assorted fries; everything’s always on my mind (if not in my plate) to boost the immunity of my belly! Clearly, I couldn’t agree more with myself that “Condemning gluttony is sacrilege”.
I have penned down a tribute to the morsels in a composition titled ‘Ode To Food’.
Oh fabulously flavoured food, thou breath of my lunchtime,
Thine power is immense, thou make me crave,
And urge me to write this honest rhyme!
Thou conjure illusion on hungry mind,
Poised in the spoon like cherubic grain,
Oh enticer, thou make me a hungry swine,
And thwart my ability to hunger restrain!
Oh blossoming fushias, brewed in meat,
Thine fragrance ushers blissful slumber,
Oh root of merriment, fiesta and treat,
A myriad concoction on stove and lumber!
Oh pristine patron of calories and fat,
Fathoming every foodie’s dream,
Oh magnificent monopolists who hones my tact,
Oh patronising penalty of vile greens!
Oh fabulously flavoured food speckled with elusive flavour,
I beseech thee, mine everlasting penchant,
And wish thine charm my words can savour!
Fortunately for me, there shall always be two blessings in my life, in the form of both my dear grandmothers (Dadi and Nani) who really have some “je ne sais quoi” about their food, which has perhaps made me the passionate foodie that I always wanted to be!
Need I say more??
For centuries food has been rendered as the promiscuous allurer of mankind. It tempted, enticed, appeased and inveigled and continues to do the same with persistent audacity, in a manner both effusive and gratifying. From Napoleon’s perfumed cheese, to Italy’s stark wines, from lavish hints of Maharajah’s spices to the bland tang of Sushi, food has always transcended continental barriers in a diverse and unparalleled manner.
There is a very thin line that separates ‘eaters’ from ‘foodie’s’. The first, fastidious and hasty are those for whom fodder merely remains a necessity- an arduous round of spending, cooking, consuming and excreting. Then there is that latter minority that will put their heart and soul into the food and eat each crumb as if it’s the last they will ever have! I myself vouch to belong to the latter cult- those who display a true penchant and willing servitude for the grains, the true foodies, for whom seeking emancipation from the morsels, is but blasphemous!
Talk of anything from gulping gol- gappas to oozy spaghetti, slurping exotic shakes, delving into chocolate cakes, relishing ghar ka rajma chawal, polishing dosas with litres of sambhar, diving head- first into chaat papri, chomping chicken tikka with dollops of chutney, crumbling tarts or scrumptious pies, lip- smacking assorted fries; everything’s always on my mind (if not in my plate) to boost the immunity of my belly! Clearly, I couldn’t agree more with myself that “Condemning gluttony is sacrilege”.
I have penned down a tribute to the morsels in a composition titled ‘Ode To Food’.
Oh fabulously flavoured food, thou breath of my lunchtime,
Thine power is immense, thou make me crave,
And urge me to write this honest rhyme!
Thou conjure illusion on hungry mind,
Poised in the spoon like cherubic grain,
Oh enticer, thou make me a hungry swine,
And thwart my ability to hunger restrain!
Oh blossoming fushias, brewed in meat,
Thine fragrance ushers blissful slumber,
Oh root of merriment, fiesta and treat,
A myriad concoction on stove and lumber!
Oh pristine patron of calories and fat,
Fathoming every foodie’s dream,
Oh magnificent monopolists who hones my tact,
Oh patronising penalty of vile greens!
Oh fabulously flavoured food speckled with elusive flavour,
I beseech thee, mine everlasting penchant,
And wish thine charm my words can savour!
Fortunately for me, there shall always be two blessings in my life, in the form of both my dear grandmothers (Dadi and Nani) who really have some “je ne sais quoi” about their food, which has perhaps made me the passionate foodie that I always wanted to be!
Need I say more??
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