World's best Besan Ladoos

I believe the world’s best ‘Besan laddos’ are made by Sameer and Nidhi's mom. We would wait for Sameer to return from Bhopal.. because with him will arrive the tins of delicious ladoos prepared by his Mom. On reaching before any one of us can pounce on the loot, he would divide them into two parts; one to be shared with us and one carefully hidden away; so that he can have them all by himself without any one of us grabbing them, specially Bidyut. Yes such are our friends !
These ladoos were the perfect bites - perfectly shaped, firm on hand and melts in your mouth. Not to sugary or greasy on your palate. Just the perfect mixture of gram flour, castor sugar and pure ghee, with a hint of cardamon.

Sameer was the kind of foodie you respect. Not that he just loved food or cooked some amazingly delicious items; but he also had a keen interest in the culinary art. I learnt many things things from him (beside being introduced to Hindi literature, which remained incomplete.. ) I picked up quiet a few cooking tricks from him. For instance, Sameer taught me how to knead dough right and roll chapatis. He always had some tidbits to share about how to cook this or that gravy. Once he made a Sabzi just with onions, for dinner and when I made a face at the idea; he said with a very straight face— This dish was Mudhabala’s favourite dish (..and I dare refuse it!)
I still wonder how that bit of information or recipe came down to him! But than of course, he also had a healthy appetite for a good laugh:)

Once when he came back from Bhopal and opened the much awaited bag of Ladoos; we found to our horror - half of the precious loot in crumble! After a momentary look at the spoil he said in his typical way- ‘Koi nay…’ - don’t worry we will re-make them. He gathered and heated the crumble in a pan and soon we were sitting on the floor rolling the the ladoos again.

Today was my very first attempt at making 'besan ladoos' unassisted. As I was rolling the ladoos in my kitchen.. I could sense Sameer pottering around- opening lids of this and that container, peeping inside the fridge, tasting something from there and all the while chattering about random things.
I could see both of us sitting there on the floor; the afternoon sun streaming in from the window- us rolling ladoos and laughing and chatting away.. as I said- Sameer loved to share little bits of wisdom- he told me, rolling 'besan ladoos' not only required skill but you have to be brave too- to put your hand right into that hot mixture that has just been removed from the burner; you’ll have blisters in your hand but sweet will be the result of your pain!
Who says.. we are physical beings? it is but a phase that we will all grow out of.. what will remains is the essence.. scattered all around.. in the smiles shared, hearts touched, fights fought, likes, dislikes.. my idiosyncrasies, my dreams, my beliefs, my angst.. they will be here, nestled - in memories, places, people, in things we touched, in stories we told. In that chair where I loved to curl up with a book, that little half chipped figurine which I refuse to throw away, my faintly fragrant handkerchief lying in the drawer..
What will fade is the image.
But will forever linger is the sense… the essence.
We will be the sugar in the ladoos- you can’t see it but you can taste it, sense it filling your essence with its sweetness..
As I say- Only thing real is forever.. Atom or Aatma.. we are, will be here.. all around.

ankiew, Peej and Sowiee.. words never spoken more sincerely:)

ankiew, Peej and Sowiee ~ three words never sounded more beautiful to me.. or were more truly spoken… perhaps.

The moment a child is born.. a chain of expectation starts that never really stops through our entire life. Everyone else seems to know better about the child's upbringing than the parents themselves. Barely out of the hospital.. and the quizzing starts - perhaps the most common take off query is- how much does the baby weigh.. and what would you do; knowing about it please? Oh he sleeps all days .. or doesn't sleep at all .. has he/ she stared crawling? - 10 months and not stood by himself yet… what about talking? O’ my daughter .. grandson, friend’s son.., etc, etc, started talking by 9 and was running by 10 month and singing songs by his 14th month!!! Yes, in no time - if you don't hold your ground or know what you are doing exactly- You will be pushed into a cycle of depression and guilt … your baby is either too thin or obese; you are either feeding too much or too little .. how can you leave the TV to babysit and go and take a bath or try to finish some household chores that is lying piled up for last so many weeks and month. Isn't walking yet? - give the child a walker or better still hold up the child and make them walk. still not talking .. keep forcing the words down their throat till they are fed up and starts parroting you! Sit back and take a deep breathe- Nature has intended that a baby will turn, crawl, stand and walk (considering there is no physical or health shortcoming) when the child is ready. The child will start talking when he/she has processed the language and learnt, and decided what they need to speak or want to communicate first. For it is true- that there is no point in learning to speak or say things we don't feel the need to communicate. Also at times a child growing up in multilingual atmosphere takes longer to speak. Communication has two aspects ‘receptive language’ and ‘expressive language’. So, though your child may not be expressing in spoken words but observe her / him - he or she will rarely fail to communicate what she likes or dislikes; wants or don’t want. Also we may not realise but their receptive language is much more developed by this point, notice how well they can manipulate your feelings:) it is just that we have to be patient enough to learn their mode of communication -because their little grey cells are busy processing all the sound and words the child is hearing around them and quietly making a choice of what they needs to utter and communicate first. So, no hurry… But no, some people around you truly believes that if you don't TEACH a child to speak it will not..!

Our little girl took her time (by some people’s chart) in picking up certain things.. we also weren’t exactly in a hurry to see her through things. Perhaps we are amongst those who likes to take things easy in life:) At 2yrs of age her vocabulary is some 25 odd words .. and I don't know by family or social norm how ahead or behind is that, nor do I care. But of those 25 words and amongst the first 10- 15 words that she learnt - Mama, bo'h(sit) aa'h (come), de(give) No, Bow'bow, Bit-tut (Bidyut) meow, Bye bye and Hi were the 3 most beautiful words- ‘Aankiew’, ‘Peej’ and ‘Sowiee’ ..for us that would be- Thank you, Please and Sorry and never were they more sincerely used ..

And as of now I am savouring these moments of Aankiew, peej and sowiee.. that dots like little musical jewels through my day. I know soon a day will come when mothers around me will be comparing their kids grade outside the school gate.. and asking me how my daughter faired... why is she learning to paint and not to dance or why to dance and not to skate.. what is she going to do after boards. why Arts and not science.. 25 and still not married... um’ well.. I know.. I am getting a bit worked up here! But yes.. my girl take your time, no hurry... Choose your words carefully and weigh them.. so when you speak, you know what you mean... No hurry. Choose carefully... :)

..a Memory bottled!

What do you get back from your ‪#‎travel‬..

For most of us an important ritual of traveling includes shopping. The haul includes for some- more shoes and dresses and bags, to perhaps couple of artifacts to carry back home as souvenir. With us, considering the amount we are on the road; we have to go easy on the shopping bit. But of course we rarely fail to bring back one or the other souvenir from the places we have been to. Mostly we tend to pick up little curio or artifacts that are unique to that place . This time from each place we visited, we decide to pick up something on behalf of Môu as she herself was too young to select and perhaps.. also too young to remember much of the trip itself! We thought it should be something unique to that place; something that she can connect later to her subconscious memories! 

We were in Europe towards the end of 'fall 'and our little girl was enthralled by the vibrant colours of ‪#‎autumn‬ all around. Where-ever we stopped, she would get busy collecting the leaves.. I carried a few leaves back with me; thinking would put them up on her scrapbook for her to look back at, someday.
But than the other day this idea came to me.. partly by a line I read - 'what is your favourite travel memory' ? I knew what was mine but how to keep it alive and vibrant..
Thus started my first attempt at ‪#‎decoupage‬

~ And here it is- adorning an empty ‪#‎bottle‬ of honey from ‪#‎Cherapunjee‬, corked with a charming hand painted marble top- picked up from a little roadside shop in ‪#‎IsolaPescatori‬ (Italy), with few pebbles lying at it's bottom- 'the Autumn leaf' from our last day in Strasbourg, picked up by Môu as we were walking toward the station.Yes, the pebbles at the bottom of the bottle are also the 'first ever picked' by our little girl from the seashore...

A memory Bottle :)

It is not something we bought from a place but it is a bit of that place and a bit of us in there- 'together' -a memory bottled! Every time I pass that bottle; the scene of Môu collecting leaves, playing on beach.. flashes through my mind's eye.


-24th december 2015

Warm your heart, balm your Soul, bake a Cake..

I am one of those to whom things always came or happened a bit late in life... and never easy!
But the one thing that comes easy to me is Baking a Cake:)

 Yes, there is something special about baking. One of my most cherished memories of childhood would be of returning home from school and pausing at the doorway to catch that waft of aroma escaping from a cake being baked in the oven. There is something unexplainably beautiful and happy about baking. The very idea can immediately lift up a sombre mood and turn the day into a small festival! Let me push in a little titbit here- one of the first items that most urban Assamese girls learn to make  i.e. of course after the most obvious humble omelette- is to bake a cake or a bread pudding. Though neither of them is origin to our traditional cuisine. Strange I know, but anyways how does it matter? 

My earliest memory of baking is of following Ma's heel as she goes around making  preparation for the cake- all along telling me the how to~  first we whisk 3 eggs, than we measure a cup of sugar, a cup of melted butter, sieve in a table spoon of baking soda to the flour and  etc. etc… So there it was imprinted in my mind. Was never ever consciously listening to her because I was more eager for the batter to be transferred into the baking dish, so that I can get my hands on to the bowl, where she was mixing up all that delicious ingredients and lick it up clean. A job me and my big brother used to do quite throughly, and which was duly and very responsibly taken up by our younger brother once we left home. (By the way, he also has the capacity to wipe off  half a kg. of a regular pound cake at one sitting itself)!  Oh yes,  we were baking that cake; mixing up our very own personal festival! As I became old enough to lend Ma a hand, mixing the cake became more of a family affair. The job of beating the eggs used to be handled by my Uncle- whom all the kids in family grew up fondly calling 'Don'. Yes Don is an 'excellent beater' he can whisk them up to fantastic froth in just couple of minutes.  Once everything has gone in Ma would again push the bowl towards Don for that final touch. Then Deuta (father)would do the all important job of setting the oven to the right time and temperature. No, no job is small when you are baking a cake! 

After that, the wait .. wait for that happy aroma to float in and quietly fill all our faces with happy smiles:) 

 There was also this special cake- we used to call it the 'Pithagurir cake'- it's eggless, made with rice flour and baked in a 'showka' ( a wood log earthen stove).

 It's a bit moist and chewy, with the lovely fragrance of wood fire flavoring it… been quite some years since I lasted tasted it. We would wait eagerly for it  to be sent by our Khuri(aunt);  just as my nephew Luit would today wait for his favourite 'homemade cake and cookies' to arrive from his Aaita(granny). By the way, I also taught Luit the fine art of - 'How to lick and wipe clean a batter bowl to look like it has never been used.' 

  Yesterday I was again baking a cake.. that brings me back to that little detail of being 'a bit late'. Well yes, I baked my cake  post Christmas day and not on the eve as I should have .. but I take that as- better late than never;)  Besides I am sure that everyone was too busy celebrating and enjoying all the thousand of other delicious gorgeous cakes made around the world, to miss my humble cake. 

So, as I was mixing my cake alone.. quietly my mind flew a few hundred miles away...  to some many years ago. In there.. in my mind, it was a happy warm montage of all the years Me and Ma had spent baking cakes or cookies. Sometime alone, sometime together as family. And I found myself laughing  at the visuals that floated by... of times when  disasters struck- when a  cake got burnt ; or the middle remained gooey, or we  put something in bit too much or too less.. or at the spontaneous celebration when some experiment of Ma came out of the  oven with flying colours! Yesterday I was mixing our cake with all those memories softly nudging me and helping me..  with each ingredient I was adding a prayer for all of those in my heart, in my mind.. and then put the baking dish inside the oven with a content smile.. that was my own little festival.

 Our lil' girl Môu is tad too young today to follow my heels but perhaps next year she will join me.. help me  bake our family cake. And than someday, many years later.. she will gently pour back all this memories into her own little cake and seal it with a Happy smile; thinking of the days and time she spent with her Ma, of course not exactly learning to bake a cake... 

  Just as I do today- thinking of all the time I spent with Ma in the kitchen as she baked ..patiently waiting to clean the batter bowl clean!

-27th December 2014