The bearded thief

There are some characters in life, which you know will never see again. As we move on in life, we lose several of them only holding the memories of them. Just like time, life too ticks away even before you could capture it. We stand there wondering what our children are going to miss. Thaadi kallan was one of them.

He was generally knows as “thaadi kallan” (bearded thief). His residence was on the circular platform around the very old temple banyan tree. The banyan tree stood exactly opposite the temple. The visitors to the temple sat there for a few moments enjoying the cool breeze before leaving to their respective destinations.

Though the platform was his residence, his visibility there was restricted to only two times a day. He would be found sleeping on the platform early in the morning, covered in his long dirty “thorthamundu” (thin traditional cotton towel), and would make the mandatory exit before people started coming to the temple, and again in the afternoon, when the temple was closed. He would have a short siesta, now lying on his thorthamundu below the breezy banyan tree.

He was the petty thief in our town, and mostly stole small things like utensils, vegetables from the gardens etc. The people were also used to him, mainly as he was a source of cheap fresh vegetables. Tell him to get a particular vegetable, and lo, he will produce the same thing by evening from somewhere. Give him fifty paise and he would happily go away.

His real name was narayanan, and I know it as my dad and mom called him by that name. He would come home once in a while when he is hungry and exhausted all avenues to get some food. My father being one of the “avatarams” (incarnation) of the famed giver Karna, glorified in the epic mahabharata, had a standing rule at the house, never to let anyone coming for food go empty bellied. My mother, in league with other “pativrata ratnams” like sita, savitri, mandodari, anasuya etc never swayed from the orders. (dont tell me you dont know these exemplary ladies). Though there have been times when the family struggled to make ends meet, this rule has never been abandoned.

I wonder if anyone knows where he came from. Even my dad has seen him during his youth, staying below the same banyan tree. I used to think was narayanan was born old, and he will remain the same always. There have been times when police would pick him up from his base below the banyan tree, but the same police normally would also drop him off at the same spot.

After college I left for mumbai in search of work, and life moved on. It was only during my last visit home that I saw narayanan again, he was frail and his abode was still the platform around the banyan tree. He had come home requesting some food. He recognised me and wished me well before tottering back to his residence. Thats when dad narrated me one of narayanan’s old adventure.

Maathu mama, who was one of our distant relatives and family friend needed some roof tiles. He had been planning to extend the roof of his kitchen, which need to be extended before the next rainy season, so that the water wont get to the verandah just outside the kitchen. The cheapest way to get some roof tiles was just few minutes walk away, below the banyan tree. Narayanan was the person for the job. Though initially reluctant Narayanan took up the job and said maathu mama will get his tiles in 2 days time, and the price was fixed at 10 rupees. A bargain for maathu mama.

Maathu maama was happy as the whole set of roof tiles were delivered to him as promised. He give 10 rupees to Narayanan as agreed and an additional 2 rupees on top for a job well done. Narayanan went away apparently spending the windfall on some liquor. It was only next day when work-men came to extend maathu mama’s kitchen roof that they noticed something. One complete row of roof tiles were missing from the kitchen roof!

That was the last I heard about “thaadi kallan” Narayanan. Maybe he will die before my next visit to kerala, but he will be there in some of my memories, and I am sure in maathu mama’s memory also.

A joke

This I must post, though normally I refrain from posting the email forwards. Pardon me non-mumbaite readers, if the joke doesnt make sense. Here we go.

4 Mumbaites – a Gujju, a Bhaiyya and a Bihari & Malayali died and were facing Yama. Yama asked them if they wanted some facilities & told Chitragupt to decide on their accommodation.

The Gujju said : “Hey Yambhai, aa marathi loko toh mane shaanti thi jeeva nathi deta. Maari dukaan fodi naakhi. Aa marathi loko ekdum junglee chhe. Mane maari baaju maa marathi maanas nathi joto.”

The UPite said : “Theek kaha gujjubhai ne. Shriman Yam, in marathi logo ne to hamara jeena hi mushkil kar diya hai….eemaan se! Arre, meri dukaan ka board bhi kala kar diya. Kahat rahi ki dukaan ka naam marathi bhasha mein hona chaahiye. Ab ee bhi koi baat hui kya? Mujhe bhi mere baaju mein marathi aadmi nahi chaahiye.”

The Bihari said : “Yeh dono sajjan aadmi theek kahat hain. Arre main thode din pehle railway ki pariksa dene mumbai gaya tha. Raam Lalla ki sougandh, in marathi logun ne humka bahut hi peeta. Hamaar haddi pasli ek kardi. Aisa junglee marathi humka hamaar saath naahi chaahiye.”

The Malayali said “aiiyoo humoko bhi marathi baaju main nahi mangta, bahto pareshaan karta hai yeh log. kuch kaam kerne ko nahi aata phir bhi hosiyari maarke kaheta hai ki tumko hamare mumbai se nikal dega.

Yama turns to Chitragupt : “Aayla Chitrya, ya saglyanchya files majhyakade gheun ye re!!! Baghto ekekala”

A Hairy tale

All gods have long hair. Be it Greek, Indian or other gods. No, I havent met them all yet, but I am sure about this fact from the several photographs and paintings of them that I have seen. And why not, long hair does look divine. I dont like people cutting their hair, particularly women, whom I think look lovely with more kesham.

But my thinking doesnt seem to matter to my family or the world. From childhood onwards, I have been programmed to cut my hair at regular intervals. The most regular cut from childhood was “summer cut”, where I had to convince myself that I had some hair on my head after the “summer-cut”. Yet at home after the barber-shop visit, my mother would exclaim that the barber has not cut it properly, and there was a bit more he could have cut! And while taking bath after the haircut, I always consoled myself saying that it will grow back fast.

But wait another three weeks, amma will exclaim “thalamudi kaadu maathiri valarnthaachu” (your hair has grown into a jungle!), preparing the ground for the next hair-cut. But that was during the school days. It was during the college days that I caught the fashion bug and went to a “modern” hair cutting saloon. They did the same thing my old barber did, except that they washed my hair with shampoo, and cut much less hair, making me appear more ugly to myself! The first thing I did after going home and taking bath is to apply oil to my hair.

Yes-sir, I still apply oil in my hair. If you are producing wierd sounds of disgust at the other end, I am fine with it. I love my hair with oil, even if it contains enough oil to fry pappadoms on a sunny day. The only change that has happened with the oil application is the oil itself. From kaachina ennai (oil prepared with herbs, I believe) now I use dabur amla kesh tel. And yes, I do apply it daily.

Coming back to the topic, Whatever changes in life happened hair-cut still happened at regular intervals. Be it kerala, Bombay or London, the hair-cut still remained, as barbers changed. Several barbers came and went. In kerala there was our regular barber, who twisted our heads in different positions and expected us to hold it there while he went about business. Then there was a communist barber, who reminded us that by touching the scissors to our head, we owed him the “haircutting fees”. In bombay suburb the barber was more sort of a village person, very innocent and trying to make my hair look great in every possible way and in London a middle-aged nice white man who did the job in quickest possible time.

But then the tubelight came on, yes I mean the idea of long hair came to me. I never had the opportunity to grow my hair, but now I had. I am a grown-up adult and can choose to grow hair. And If it looks good on gods, it definitely will look good on me. The bonus was that I didnt have to do anything for that as well, except avoid the visits to the hair-cutting salon. The hair will grow by itself, I couldnt ask for more! I was soon imagining myself with long hair, tied neatly into a ponytail. Just like the gods in the paintings.

The project was running smoothly for a couple of months before the first attack on it came. No, it was not an outsider who criticised it, but my wife herself. She started complaining that I was looking uglier and couldnt stand the sight of me. Initially I shrugged it off, but then she linked the ugliness of my long hair in relation to my extra layer of muscle around my waist. That was outrageous. She didnt have to link my muscle deposits to my growing jet black shiny hair and call me ugly. But I was determined to grow it long. I knew some of my friends were on my side, or so I thought.

My hair was growing unaware of all the politics that I was going through for it. But day by day the resistance was building up, my parents also lend their support to my wife, and one by one my friends were also getting in her camp. I was standing up to all these pressures when one of my friends, whose advise I value a lot, asked me to get rid of my hair. Same time my brother too issued a fatwa that I cut my hair soon.

I was devastated. The whole world was against me this time. I was alone fighting for my growing hair, which had now grown long enough to cover my eyes and nose, another few months and I would have a nice looking pony tail. Succumbing to pressure, I did the unthinkable final act. With trembling feet I entered the barber shop after 3 months, and mumbled to him “summer-cut”. He started snipping my hair away with evil glee in his eyes. While my long dark black shiny hair was falling around my chair, a song was playing from the back-ground of my mind. Dost dost na raha, pyaar pyaar naa raha“.

Physics Nobel Prize, 2004

This years Nobel Prize for physics have been won by 3 scientists who proposed the theory to describe the force that holds together quarks, the elementary particles with which nature constructs the neutrons and protons that make up the nuclei of atoms.

They fancifully described their force in terms of “colour”, saying that quarks could be red, green or blue, rather like electrical charge can be positive or negative; and just as electrical opposites attract, so combinations of quark colour can make for stable collections of quarks.

Their theory successfully explained why quarks tended to group in threes. It also explained why, paradoxically, the “colour charge” weakens as the quarks move together and strengthens when they move apart. It is a property that has been compared to a rubber band. The more the band is stretched, the stronger the force.

The researchers’ discoveries, published in 1973, led to the theory of quantum chromodynamics, or QCD.

Read the full news here.

Website

My website was down for 4-5 days. Thanks to excellent support by my webhosts, my site which was offline for 1 day went offline for 5 days.

I have written a sweet letter to the customer support manager. And yes very soon I might be moving to vesana for webhosting. Atleast they reply fast.

Vaangi bhath (eggplant/aubergine rice)

My first taste of vaangi bhath was after marriage, when my sahadharmini made it. It looked a bit dodgy and avoidable, but my palate proved it otherwise. Nothing like vaangi bhath with dahi and roast pappadoms. I never made vaangi bhath, but decided to document it for the future generations, who might enjoy it.

I felt that the process for making vaangi bhath was a bit tedious, which my wife pooh-poohed. She maintains a separate food blog and is the “chief cooker” at home and might be right. But I let you decide the same, not from the pictures or the recipe, but judge only after making the same.

So, as always we start with ingredients. As this dish is called vaangi bhath, you can easily guess that vaangi and rice are integral to this. so here we go in detail. These ingredients are for “well-eating” 2 individuals. There are around three-four steps involved in making a perfect vaangi bhath and I will group the ingredients also like wise.

For Rice

1. Rice (My measurement for 2 people is to take 3 fist-full of raw rice, others follow the image)
2. A bit of turmeric powder (only a bit)

For Masala

Take a bit of mustard seeds(rai), coriander seeds(dhaniya), cumin seeds(jeera), urad dal, chana dal(split peas), turmeric powder (haldi), red chillies and kadi patta.

For Seasoning

Again a bit of mustard seeds(rai), cumin seeds(jeera), chana dal(split peas), red chillies, kayam (asafoetida powder), kadi patta and a bit of oil.

Other main ingredients

Tamarind concentrate, vaangi (aubergine/eggplant) and obviously salt to taste.

Now if you dont have a few items in the masala, ignore them and make the dish, it would not taste bad just because you skipped a couple of masala’s. So lets dive straight into the preparation with the ingredients that we have gathered.

ingredients for vaangi bhath

Take the rice and wash it. Add water and turmeric powder and cook it. I know, I know, thats not very helpful, but there is nothing more in cooking rice. The water proportion goes like this, for 1 katori/cup of rice, 2 katories/cups of water. Once you have done that, you cook either in a hob or you can microwave it. When cooking in a hob, ensure that once the water starts boiling, you close the vessel, reduce the flames to low and allow the rice to cook. it will easily take around 15-20 minutes to cook.

prepare rice

While the rice is getting cooked, lets prepare our masala. For this, take all the masala ingredients listed and saute them. You dont need to add oil to saute them. Just do it directly on the pan without any oil.

add masala ingredients

Now you need to mix them well and saute them till they appear a bit roasted.

saute masala well

Now, you can remove them.

masala ready to be ground

Grind this mix into the vaangi bhath masala.

vaangi bhath masala

Ok, now chop the aubergine/eggplant/vaangi to cubes, if you have not done it already.

cut aubergine to cubes

Nows the time to prepare tamarind water. Add a spoon of tamarind concentrate to a katori.

tamarind paste

Add water to the concentrate and dilute it to get the tamarind water (wow, I am brilliant). Now if you dont use tamarind concentrate, prepare it the way its done back home. Take dried tamarind, soak it in water and later mash, sieve and use the tamarind water.

tamarind water

Now check the rice and wait for it to cook before proceeding. Now we are entering the final process in making vaangi bhath and it will be good to have the cooked rice ready, unless you have got some expertise in cooking already.

Now take the kadai (or the vessel you want to make vaangi bhath in) and put 2 teaspoon of oil. Add the seasoning ingredients and saute well.

saute seasoning

Now while sauteeing, add a bit of kayam (asafoetida) powder.

add kayam

Once the seasoning is well sauteed, add the chopped aubergines/eggplant/vaangi to it.

add vaangi

Mix occasionaly while it cooks.

cook vaangi

The vaangi is cooked, when they appear transculent as in the picture below.

transculent vaangi's

Now add the masala we prepared earlier to it and cook for a couple of more minutes.

add masala

Mix it well.

mix masala well

Now add the tamarind water to the mixture and stir well.

add tamarind water

Allow it to cook till it appears to be a paste. Now add salt to taste.

mix tamarind water well

Now we add cooked rice to this.

add cooked rice

And mix the rice well.

mix it well

The vaangi bhath is ready. Serve it with raita or plain yoghurt, with a couple of roasted pappadoms.

vaangi bhath

Yum. Enjoy.

Stupid Olympics

So the olympics came to a close. I am happy that India won a silver medal, though I was sure we would have been in the top 10 medal winners, only if the olympics adjudicators were not so biased. They should have given consideration that anju had a pollution problem, malleswari had a back problem, our delhi sports center where all the olympic people were preparing didnt have proper water supply etc. There is a whole host of things which they just ignored, and guess what happened, we got only 1 silver medal. Not that we need any medal from the olympics, as we can make as many we want in Ulhasnagar.

I thought the whole olympics thing was something which was not needed. There were several events which never made sense to me anyway. Lets start with floor gymnastics. You have got a rectangular area, where a young lady/gent does some exercises, hop-on hop-off and stands and bows. Now I wonder what on earth was that, and even before I can figure it out, the judges come out with something like 9.7, 9.8, 9.6 and so on. Wow! you say. I wonder you havent seen dombivli train platform in bombay at around 8.00 am in the morning. The acrobatics that one does to get into a local train will beat all these cutie figures jumping up and down on the mat at olympics.

Another event that beats me is marathon. I had some sympathy for Paula Radcliffe when she couldnt complete the marathon, but I laughed my backside off, when she couldnt even complete 10,000 meter race. My wife told me it was not good to laugh at others, particularly at such situations. So I sincerely made a serious face, which lasted for around 1 second. Coming back to the event of marathon, the whole thing seemed pointless. The history of marathon was even more funny. Its said that a soldier ran all the way from a battlefield back to athens, just to tell the message that they had won. The sad and stupid part is he collapsed and died just after delivering the message. Now, look it from an Indian perspective. Would we do that, no way. We have more intelligent ways of communicating the same message – women power.

What a shrewd Indian would have done is to go to the nearest village and tell the lady a secret, that the Greek had won, and ask her to keep it as secret. Trust the gossip-power, the message would have reached athens faster than an email goes over the internet, or even the time photon takes to circumnavigate the earth. This stupid guy who lost his life by running a marathon and didnt even had a clue about this technique. And since then have something called marathon to commemorate that running. Hey, why run marathon, when you can phone in this day and age to inform whats happening. Totally pointless I say.

I could go on and on like this for several events. It would require lot of time for me to write my angst that “iddli-theeta” (iddli eating competition), and such similar traditional competitions are not at all even shortlisted to become olympics event. In short, I didnt like the olympics that happened, and finally just to clarify, this entry is not a result of my bitterness that India did only manage 1 medal at olympics or that our neighbor China stood second place in the medals tally. Darn.

said the elder hampster

Why do I have to run in the wheel from 9 – 5.30, asked the young hamster. The elder hamster looked at him sagely, and told “you need to work so that you earn your food and pay your bills.” “But, I dont want to work” cried the young hampster, “I want to figure out what I want to do and do my stuff, maybe sleep more. Whats the point in living like this?”.

“shut-up, and keep running” scolded the elder hampster.

The man watching the hampsters in the cage, grinned devilishly.