Dance to Your Own Beat

A few weeks ago, we were invited to a friend's son's arangetram. Whether or not the word 'etram' (ascension) applies to all art or just 'arangu' (dance), I'm not sure, but in this case, it was a debut music concert...so I suppose apply it does. The instrument was the mridangam (South Indian drum), accompanied by the mandolin, violin, veena, and the Jewish harp.

But for some high school students playing tennis, the surroundings were quiet. No one would have guessed that inside, a carnatic music concert was in full swing (yes, we were late). A dark theatre scented with jasmine...the rustle of deeply hued saffron, crimson, peacock blue, deep purple Kanjeevaram silks...and an audience thoroughly enjoying the reverberations and following the beat with their own thaalam.

As we walked up to the high school auditorium, kolams adorned the path. Our sons were intrigued by these patterns on the ground and they tried identifying images in the kolam. South Indian kolams integrate flowers, birds, and fish into their design...and while fish look more or less the same regardless of the species, the flowers and birds are peculiar to India. And so our elder son pointed out a 'Lily' (not the Indian Lotus), while the younger one mistook conch shells for snails. At least the parrot was correctly spotted, by its unmistakable hooked beak and its beady eye...!

In the USA, one sees kolams drawn with sidewalk chalk or just a vinyl pattern stuck on. The ones above seem to have been made with rice flour paste, with chalk highlights in pink.

In Madras, most Hindu homes have a kolam in front of the compound gate and the main door. The kolam is drawn afresh every morning for it gets stepped on and blurred as the day progresses. Kolams are meant to invite prosperity into one's home. To discourage evil spirits, all lines in the kolam are unbroken in a neverending knot, a talisman as it were.

During my childhood, white rice powder was popularly used to make the pattern. The artist would gather a sizeable pinch between her thumb and forefinger, from a screw of paper, and steadily release a trail to form a line. To draw another line, she would gather another pinch and so it would go on.

"Why ricepowder?", I asked a friend once. "To feed the birds and insects", she replied. Her mom told us it was a good idea to keep the ants at bay. So, drawing a rice powder kolam is shooting 4 birds with one stone - positive energy, starting afresh every day, doing one's bit in feeding other creatures, and protecting one's homes from invaders of different kinds. I've heard - never seen them myself - that during festivals, entire streets are covered with kolams, in the agraharams near the Mylapore temple - drawn quickly and surely in the morning, on sunny days - of course, necessitating kolam contests!

Last year, when visiting the Museum of Art in Hong Kong, I saw this...

I was reminded of the Indian kolam and its unbroken lines...

It appears the Chinese endless knot is a Buddhist auspicious symbol, introduced to China by Indian Buddhist missionary monks 2,500 years ago. The 'endlessness' of the lines represent the Eternal Divine, while their fluidity symbolizes the everpresent change and the ephemeral nature of time. Nothing is permanent. In the manner of the Thai Buddhist sand paintings that are destroyed upon completion, so also does a kolam fade away through the day, only to be reborn the next.

At the end of the concert, my friend's guru blessed the performers and spoke of 2 ideas - abhyaasa (practice) and vairagya (a state of non-attachment). In other words, to practice those principles and values in one's life so as to move onwards in the spiritual journey towards the Eternal Divine (in Islam, we know this as jihad, or the constant 'battle' to live life ethically)...and to avoid stagnation as a result of too much 'attachment' to one's surroundings/relationships.

Today businesses are told to "practice, practice, practice" those management principles, processes and strategies that make them optimally efficient, and to remain non-attached to any situation that makes them too comfortable for their own good. Vairagya helps in keep things in check, and reminds a business to exercise agility as and when needed to re-align itself to the immediate market pulse and greater macroeconomic forces. To change its 'thaalam' as per the beat of its external and internal factors, and thus perform successive arangetrams in the theatre of the global marketplace.

Small surprise

My sons were badgering me for some grapes shortly after lunch and look what we were thrilled to discover...

A jumbo punkin' shaped grape :)!

It appears they will not eat this curiosity, but consecrate it in the fridge...who knows, their dad might want to do it justice after Iftaar today.

Cool Stew for Summer

A Kerala dish that has firmly established itself in Tamil Nadu cuisine is the creamy coconut and yogurt vegetable stew known as Avial or Aviyal. Surely not a rose, but an Aviyal by whatever name one calls it, smells as heavenly as it always does.

As Dekkani Muslims, my family's repertoire of recipes contains many saalans whose masalas need to be veritably cooked to death. The whole is then served up with 1 inch of the seasoned oil at the bottom of the serving bowl. My grandmother and her generation used to insist upon vast quantities of oil and ghee (clarified butter) being used when preparing special dishes. Sans the 1 inch of oil, the dish simply did not pass muster - no can do, Sirree!

Of course, Indians belonging to my Daadi's generation swore by their daily cuppa of ghee and its remedial, augmentative powers. At a time when air conditioners and the multitudes of cars were non-existent, when the daily repast contained simple foods, and when desserts and rich fare were reserved for very special occasions only...when even eggs were not consumed daily and doodh patti (tea brewed with milk and sugar) was not a daily feature but only served for the pleasure of special guests...it is understandable that the daily consumption of pure, unadulterated, home-made ghee fit into a holistic, organic, well-balanced active lifestyle.

Of course, as we progressed into the 1980s and after, a more sedentary and pampered lifestyle resulted in Indians becoming most susceptible to heart disease and diabetes. In the United States, the onset of industrialization and the development of towns without sidewalks (Bill Bryson - 'The Lost Continent: Travels in Small Town America') has led to a 'horizontal expansion' of sorts out here as well.

But back to Aviyal - here's how to cook it in a jiffy - much faster than Meenakshi Ammal would have me do in her 'Samaithu Paar' (roughly translated from Tamizh as "Try these recipes and see for yourself").

Aviyal (AA's style):

1. Boil about 1 pound of vegetables till just done. Drain and keep aside.

The vegetables traditionally used are - potatoes/carrot/radish/yam (sliced into 1 inch sticks, about 1 cm thick), peas (snow peas are great too), beans (cut into 1 inch long bits), cauliflower (the florets should be bite sized, about an inch square, stem in place).

You don't need to use ALL the above, but if you have some 3-4 of them, it still looks and tastes great.

I usually do the potatoes, carrots, peas, and cauliflower together, as my sons love these vegetables and there's always a stock in the fridge.

If you are using yam, boil it seperately and keep it aside.

As for the other vegetables, boil the carrots first, and when they are 1/4th done, add the potatoes, and then the rest halfway through. Do not overcook till mushy. The vegetables should be firm enough to keep their shape and still yield against the palate.

2. Next, roughly chop 1 onion and dunk it into your food processor with 1 cup grated coconut (if I have none fresh or frozen, I just opt for the dessicated variety on my baking shelf). Process till pureed.

3. Heat 2 tablespoons edible coconut oil in a medium-sized stock pot. Saute the pureed onion-coconut in the oil till the onion has cooked. Add 1 teaspoon cumin seeds, 1 teaspoon mustard seeds, 2 chopped green chillies, some curry leaves, stirring for 1-2 minutes.

4. Turn off the flame, and stir in 2 cups whipped thick Indian yogurt (whole milk, natural - without flavor additives). Then add the boiled vegetables and stir them in, taking care not to break them up or mash them up. The idea is to relish the vegetables in a refreshing creamy, yogurt curried sauce. Don't boil the yogurt at any point. If you need to warm the leftovers, just heat over a stove until warm enough, but not boiling.

5. Serve with plain rice or Puliyogare (tamarind rice). Fried chicken or fish partners well with this dish.

I Think I Can!

Bedtime. Time for books. Time for a few songs (if my husband and I haven't dropped off yet).

There was our younger son - the American - insisting that we read him 'The Little Engine That Could', by Watty Piper. A birthday gift, this book has become his favorite.

So, we read it to him - takes a while - and when it's done, we get ready for the next one.

"Read it again!", he goes.

When we reach for the other book, he insists, "Again, again!", and thrusts the book into my face. Looks as though the shorter book is not going to happen tonight...

So I tell him, "Here, YOU read it. You're good at reading, aren't you?"

He answers, "I think I can, I think I can.", and we crumple up in giggles.

A Couple of Fine Young Gentlemen

They welcomed their friends into the park, made new ones, and roped them into the group as well.

They extended a helping hand to those who'd fallen down, they walked in step - arms around their friends' shoulders in camaraderie - just so the lonely ones didn't feel left out.

They also watched out for the little ones, and set rules to make sure the 'babies' weren't hurt or pushed even accidentally.

The younger one actually stood up to those twice his size. He is a bully buster like me, and could have put his foot down...but he chose to walk away quietly when pushed, I was proud to see.

And when they were done with dinner, they helped clean up.

...Sure, they also made a hell of a noise, were frequently ticked off for it, and were perfect over-active monkeys in the park.

They are my boys - 6 and 3 years old.   

I'm happy my sons have good friends and are much more social than I am. I usually sit on a bench watching them, muttering to myself behind a book I'm pretending to read. Occasionally I leap up to 'save' them from a fall, or referee a spat, or offer them a sip of water, but really, I'm just playing the supporting cast.

Here are some words on friendship...simple but true, affirmed by yours truly, a person who gives daily thanks for her few but genuine old gold friends:

"Friendship... is not something you learn in school. But if you haven't learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven't learned anything." (Muhammad Ali)

"I have friends in overalls whose friendship I would not swap for the favor of the Kings of the world." (Thomas A. Edison)

"In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit." (Albert Schweitzer) 

"It's one of the blesings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them." (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

"Never explain. Your friends do not need it, and your enemies will not believe you anyway." (Elbert Hubbard)

"Silences make the real conversations between friends. Not the saying but the never needing to say is what counts." (Margaret Lee Runbeck)

"It's the friends that you can call up at 4 a.m. that matter." (Marlene Dietrich)

My closest friends live all over the globe, and I can attest to doing the 4 a.m. phone call at regular intervals! I have had my fair share of 3 a.m. calls as well, each lasting a couple of hours...chatting on the living room sofa while my husband and sons slept on in the bedroom.

The Friday Fish Fry

My First Mate is a typical South Indian Dekkani Muslim Male whose college life and early Chartered Accountant years were spent in Madras nalla Madras, savoring 'non-vegetarian' delights such as Chicken Kothu Paratha, Mutton varuval, Paaya-idiyaappam and whatnot either at wayside stalls or in hallowed institutions such as Velu's Military Hotel, Muniyandi Vilas, Buhari's, Ponnusamy's Hotel and Paramount Hotel, to name a few. Btw, restaurants in Madras are called 'hotels' for some reason - possibly to impart a glamor value to their delightfully unpretentious ambiences.

Well, the food is also accordingly very reasonably priced ('unlimited' meals and so on, but that topic will be reserved for another post). The bottomline is that you get what you pay for, and when you are paying near rock bottom amounts, it is best to train one's nose to make the most of the divine flavors wafting through the 'hotel'. That is the pre-requisite to virtually inhaling the food once it makes its entrance upon your formica topped 4 by 4.

'Nuff said about the 'hotels'. This post is about the regular pre-weekend meal in our home, in anticipation of the 2 days of supposed rest. I say this because we have 2 active boys, frequent bottlenecks with laundry and unwashed dishes, and my own MBA homework that gets done mainly during the weekend. This meal has my First Mate go "oh-ho, ah-ha!" (Tamil Nadu natives will get the inflections and delivery just by reading those two words). Its hallowed name - Mackeral fish fry, Aviyal, and Puliyogare.

Fish Fry:
1. Buy fresh Mackeral ('Bangra machchi' in Dekkani Urdu, and 'Eye-la meen' in Tamil) or fresh Seer fish ('Surmai' in Dekkani, and 'Vanjiram' in Tamil). Seer fish is also known as Spanish Mackeral.

2. Wash it, use a knife to scrape the scales off (there will hardly be any), snip off the fins etc with your kitchen knife, and cut the head and tail off. Then, cut into 1/2 inch slices. Wash the slices of blood and gore (the yucky insides), and keep aside.

3. In a bowl, mix 2 teaspoons chilli powder, 2 teaspoons salt, 2 teaspoons garlic paste, 1/2 teaspoon chopped fresh coriander, and 1 tablespoon canola oil. The oil helps the masala stick to the fish while marinating and being pan fried. If you like, you could add the juice of 1/2 a squeezed lemon to this masala.

4. Coat the fish slices with this masala and marinate in the fridge for a couple of hours. Don't marinate it too much or the fish will fall apart. It needs to remain fresh, see? And use your fingers - that's what they're for - useful tools to aid in cooking, instead of a sterile spoon or fork that wouldn't do as efficient a job. I'm sure there'll be a bunch who'd want to debate this point...I really don't care to as its pointless.

5. Once the fish has marinated sufficiently, pick up a frying pan - not to bash someone on the head - and place it on the stove, with 1/2 an inch of vegetable oil. Heat the oil till hot, but not smoking. We want to fry the fish at a steady pace, not char or warp it. Fry the fish in batches, as seen below...as many as your frying pan can hold. My 9 inch diameter pan can take 4 big slices or 6-7 small ones.

6. When the fish is done on one side - takes about 3 minutes till it turns brown - turn it over to cook on the other side. The color when cooked is not as light as fish fingers or fish burgers that are more golden-brown, but darker because of the masala (chilli powder, garlic, etc). The color is usually a good indication of whether the fish slices have been fully cooked. You don't want to poke or fork the slices while frying because - firstly, you don't want to be splattered with hot oil; and second, you'd risk breaking up the fish (although Mackerel and Seer fish are quite firm).

7. Serve the fried fish with rice and either sambar, rasam, and a poriyal...or shorten the lead time by making aviyal while the fish cooks. Here is the final product, served namma ooru-style on a steel plate, for my pati parmaatma ;).

The Hottest Day of The Year or so They Said

The weather pundits divined that July 3rd would be the hottest day of the year. They were wrong, July 4th temperatures soared to 107F and July 5th, today, was pretty close. I sure couldn't walk outside for more than 10 minutes without feeling dehydrated.

Here are some pics I took on July 3rd, squinting, shootinng, and ducking in before I reeled from the heat waves.

At 730am, the day began sunny and pleasant - but that was only the trailer before the main feature.

At 9am - by which time my sons were in school and I could wield my camera in peace - thunderclouds tried to trick us into thinking that we could have a rain dance - Bollywood style...or maybe the 'Krippendorf' style...or is it the other way round? Do the song and dance inspire the rain or vice versa? Well, whatever be the conclusion, the fact is that my brains were cooked.

By 2pm, it was back to cornflower blue skies and the heat wave in high gear! Pretty - yes, enjoyable - no.

How did the native Indians deal with this kind of dry heat? I believe they lived in dug-out homes that were partially underground. Wonderful idea, actually - if you dont mind missing the view - the temperature always remains 50F down there, regardless of the most extreme of seasons.

Apparently, green energy systems are now tapping underground thermal energy to run homes during the Winter when the days are short and solar power would therefore be at a premium. Another instance when using technology to go back to the basics is helping, people :).

An Anniversary Bouquet

A bouquet of flowers from the neighborhood grocery, and from our garden, to mark our 12th wedding anniversary...wasn't really thinking of their meanings when I picked these, but was surprised to discover the same.

The Victorians ascribed meanings to flowers, and would present bouquets, with only the name of the sender or a quote/poem written in an elegant hand on thick cards tucked into creamy monogrammed envelopes. Do you remember the scene in 'The Age of Innocence' where Newland Archer sends Countess Olenska a bouquet of twelve long-stemmed yellow roses? He begins to write his name on the card and then changes his mind. It seems yellow roses respresent joy and friendship such as the one Archer feels for his soulmate...and she has no trouble guessing who the sender might be...

Apparently, the language of flowers goes back further to the Moors whose harems spent time divining the message of flowers gifted to one another. Hmm. Too much time on one's hands I think...or perhaps too many in a harem.

In one way, an idle mind could be a devil's workshop...or...it could spur creativity and imagination within a group that had little else to amuse itself with - remember, no TV/ radio/ internet in those days... Well, it looks like they did a great job at ascribing meanings to flowers - their work has lived on as a knowledge bank that a billion dollar flower industry dips into even today to tap into its customers' emotions. Hot button right there!

Red Carnations - Love, pride, admiration, and charity
Blue Alstroemeria - Friendship and devotion, wealth, prosperity, fortune

Yellow Lilies - "I'm walking on air", falsity, gaiety

White Hydrangeas - Vanity, "Thank you for understanding", frigidity (Hmm?!?)

White daisies - Shared feelings of affection, loyal love, purity
Red Roses - Sincere love, respect, courage, passion

Don't know what those tiny blue drum bouquet flowers are...they have yellow centers, btw...

Make Me a Channel of Your Peace

Let me be a channel of your peace, Ameen.

Make me a channel of your peace.
Where there is hatred let me bring your love.
Where there is injury, your pardon, Lord
And where there's doubt, true faith in you.

(Chorus)
Oh, Master grant that I may never seek
So much to be consoled as to console
To be understood as to understand
To be loved as to love with all my soul.

Make me a channel of your peace
Where there's despair in life, let me bring hope
Where there is darkness, only light
And where there's sadness, ever joy.

(Chorus)

Make me a channel of your peace
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned
In giving to all men that we receive
And in dying that we're born to eternal life.

(Chorus)

- Based on a prayer attributed to Francis of Assisi (1181 - 1226). Versification and melody by Johann Sebastian Temple (1928 - ? , b. in Pretoria, Transvaal, South Africa)