Present

We played Secret Santa in office today. There was a wild scramble to leave office early yesterday after we got the mail saying that we were supposed to get gifts today! And of course, the ubiquitous coffee mug (masquerading as the ) had already made its rounds when we had nervously picked out random names.

I got a guy...drat! Its so difficult to shop for guys. :( But of course, I knew this guy and I also knew that he had a sweet tooth. Wait...no, he has sweet teeth. So of course, I just got him a gift pack of Homemade Chocolates.

So, we all met today in a meeting room and put our gifts on the table wondering which brightly wrapped package was ours. For my part, I thought it would really be wierd to be exchanging gifts in that way. And I was surprised at how much I enjoyed myself. I felt like I had time-travelled back to my school days where this game was played akin to some holy ritual.

I got a little ceramic jewel box. And it had a mirror too on the inside. So now I don't have to scramble for my purse everytime I need to do a check on me poor face. :)

P.S.: Oooh...the female who actually organised the so-called event was real chalu. She picked out the senior mgr's name before the mug made its round and gifted her something way out of budget. Ugh! I hate such boot licking!

Comfort Food

It's what you think of when you're so tired (physically/mentally) for any reason whatsoever.

The concept of Comfort Food did not exist at all in my life until I started staying alone. There was no need for something like Comfort Food at home when you invariably always had the best meals 365 days of the year. Of course, I never acknowledged it much in those days. However, I do, now.

Living alone can have its disadvantages when you need something in your tummy to quell that head-ache (or heart-ache!) that feels like it houses millions of Liliputs with sledge-hammers. And so your options to zero-in on the one Comfort Food thats easy on your time, abilities and the resources-at-hand can be quite an adventure-trip on its own.

Before I settled down with the-most-satisfactory-amongst-all-avaliable one for myself, I experimented with lots of other options.

1. Soup - its the darndest easiest thing you can make.

2. Curd Rice with maangai oorkai - :) this is for the Southie in me

3. Biscuits - yuck! I had to try this to know that I am soooo NOT a biscuits person.

4. Maggi - thanks to hunderds of mail-chains, this one is now buried with a RIP headstone in my options-graveyard.

5. Eggs - boiled, fried, poached, scrambled...thousands of variations. Plus the smell kinda puts me off on some days.

6. Upma - again, the Southie in me I guess. But of course, never worked out. Too much of pre-preparation with the slicing and dicing and sauteing. Definitely not a contendor.

7. Porridge - this one is a YUCK! option. Anything that has unflavoured sweetened milk is something that totally gives me the creeps.

8. Salad - definitely NOT! It just depresses you even more.

9. Fruits - now, see, although this is a very easy-and-quick option; that is the reason why it doesn't measure up. It's just way too easy to grab an apple and eat it. You need something that involves just the right amount of pre-prep work. Definitely not fruits.

10. Home Delivery - well, by the time these guys deliver; you're most probably out of the craving-mode and into the self-prep-talk mode. It's kinda like an anti-climax.

So, after a lot of experimenting, my favorite Comfort Food is :

Hot butter-toast (only apna AMUL!)

It's very, very, very gettable. Our corner mallu-shop always houses Nilgiris wheat/sandwich/sweet bread and AMUL butter. Plus, having a toasty-toaster is a HUGE plus!

Now, there's something to be said about the freebies that you get during the festival-season-sale in India. I remember that our toasty-toaster came with our SAMSUNG washing machine and amma had dumped it in a corner 'cause they hardly eat toast. I picked it up one day and managed to bring it to Bangalore. And what a blessing it has been! Since then, most of us swear by dear toasty-toaster. And he has saved us on many an occasion.

No great pre-prep needed. Just pop the bread in toasty-toaster, slap on the butter and munch away!

...accompanied by tea/coffee in my favorite smiley MUG, of course!

Yup, I don't measure in cups or the ubiquitous Indian tumbler/lota/gillas. When you're down and need cheering up, large doses are the only way to go :)

What if...?

What if... I had made it through for my B.Arch?


What if... I hadn't got into Engg College?


What if... I hadn't got placed through Campus?


What if... I had gotten married early like my sister?


What if... I hadn't have to move to Bangalore for my job?


What if... I had cracked CAT 07?


What if... I had NOT opted for a job change?


What if... I din't get my project assignment in Germany?


What if... EVERYONE had gotten a hike last year?


What if... VJ had never come to Bangalore? Twice?


What if... Nov 10 had gone fine?


What if... Dec 15 does NOT go fine?


What if... Dec 20 is screwed up?


What if... I just stop with these nonsensical questions? :)



Ok...ok...ok...I get the hint! Adios amigos... :P

Who, Me?

OK...so before I begin this post, ignore the last one. I was in the depths of despair on that particular fateful Friday evening. But, to anyone who cares and who is out there and who still reads my blog: All's well dearies, I'm still alive and kicking!

Now, coming back to the topic at hand: today was Sankatahara Chaturthi. No, actually it still is. Anyways, I keep this fast every month for my dearest dearie Pillaiyar saami. He is my favorite God. Know why?

Well, when I was a kid there was this one song that my mom taught us to sing for our daily poojai. It was Kaithala Nirai Kani and somewhere in the lyrics there is mention of appam-aval-pori. The foodie that I was then (and am now), the song became my favorite and so did Pillaiyarappa. Plus, we both shared another love: kozhukattai's.

There is this very funny story about a boy who goes to a relative's house and tastes kozhukattai's for the first time and comes back home to ask his mom to prepare the same for him. The irony being that he can't remember the name of the dish he sampled. And the story also goes on to say how he bugs his mother no end and in her frustration she gives him a good thrash. After she cools down, she laments how she has given her own son bruises that are like kozhukattai's. And then the poor boy finally exclaims saying that that is what he wants.

There were heavy rumours in the family-mill that I was the main character in the story above and the gender was changed to protect my identity. My love for kozhukattai's are that notorious.

So, again, coming back to the main thread. After my fast for Pillaiyarappa, I go to the temple for the poojai and abhishekam to pray and break my fast. As I waited in the line mumbling my slokas and apologising for my mis-deeds and begging for some favours; the arathi started making its rounds. And as usual there was a lot of crowding. An old man standing behind me leaned in a little and said: "Konjam munnadi po ma...illa na arathi kedaikaathu. Poy eduthuko." I thought I would die there. Why you ask?

Well, I live in Bengalooru. I am a Tamilian. And I am no social butterfly. Especially not in the temple circles in Koramangala. Still, you ask, why?

Well, again, for some god-frosaken reason that I have never been able to understand, almost 90% of the people whom I have met here in Bengalooru (be it in office or in my PG or even my dentist) think that I am from North India. When I gently correct them saying that I am a Tamilian. They give me a surprised look and again emphasize how much I look like I am from North India. Meaning it like a compliment. How dare they, huh? Like one of my Periappa would say: "We are deep-south Pillaival tradition people."

My poor amma gives me a sad look whenever this funny issue of mis-identity happens. According to her our Thirunelveli genes runs in my blood. And anyone who sees me should know that. Its so obvious, she says. You have the typical Palayamkottai-side nose. Now, its my turn to be sad. I never thought my own amma would compare my nose to a district in Tamil Nadu. :(

So, for the first time in 3 years that I have moved to Bengalooru someone finally recognised me properly. Was it my cotton salwar? My pottu? My gold earrings? Did my Thirunelveli genes show through in some aspect? Or was it my Palayamkottai-nose? Unfortunately, the old man had disappeared.

Aiyyo Pillaiyarappa, I hope its NOT the nose!!!