Weddings, Travelling, A New Camera, Gorgeous Weather and Then Some

It's been too long since i updated the blog. And with good reason too. I've been away, having way too much fun! Weehooo!!

The brother-in-law got married last month and this one was a 10 day affair, spanning 2 cities, 2 cultures, 2 families, little sleep, and unbelievable amounts of food (but that goes without saying no?)

And so right from when we started driving to Delhi, to now, when i'm all bundled up in bed in Shimla (while it rains outside), everything has gone by in a blur of wedding functions, changing clothes (3 times a day) travelling across the country, eating awesome food (i can write a whole new post on this), meeting a host of people, smiling for even more photographs, going click happy with a new (totally awesome) DSLR camera, making new friends from around the world, taking in some gorgeous weather and generally having a good time!

There is so much i want to write about, like how the groom drove across the country (literally - from Delhi to Bangalore) for his wedding, how the elephant who was supposed to give the groom a ride, freaked out and scampered away, how the bride's dog took part in every conversation that happened in his territory, how a cousin got her clothes torn while protecting her brother's shoes, how the bride and groom were actually on time for the reception (and how they spent the next day counting all the moolah they raked in) and so much more!

But for now, all i'm going to do is sort through the thousands of photographs and go upload crazy on Facebook!

Death Two Ways

Some friends are on vacation and have left me (and the Fellow) in charge of their pet fish. I was supposed to go to their house everyday and drop a palm-full of fish food into the tank. Of course I did it. And made the Fellow do it too. In fact we ended up taking turns in feeding the fish, with me praying each day we didn’t find them dead and floating (I mean, I loved Finding Nemo and it would just be too traumatic to flush the little thing (s) away).

And then I had to travel for work (sounds so important when I say it like this no?). Yesterday, while I was chatting with a cousin (yes, work takes me around family. Fun) I suddenly remembered the fish. I called the Fellow immediately, who, as it turns out had just remembered them too! After telling him where the house keys where (men I tell you!) I turned back to the cousin. “Feeding fish didi?” she asked. “Yes” I replied. “Online?” she returned?

I knew then, that something in all of us (or at least my cousin) has had to have died, when feeding fish reminds you of online pets. I mean seriously? With all the Farmville and Fishville going around, whatever happened to the real thing?

Well, 5 minutes later I knew. The real thing had died. Well, 3 of them at least. Apparently the oxygen pump stopped working and 3 fish floated up before rescue in the form of the Fellow arrived on the scene.

Scoop. Drop. Flush. Sigh.

Major Flaw

I think the human mind has some major flaws. For one, it doesn’t let you forget. It may make it seem like you’ve gotten past something, and even wiped it clean out of your memory. But it’s just a trick. Your mind is playing with you. It forgets nothing. It lets you forget nothing. Just when you’re least expecting it, it surprises you. And not the balloons and cake and a bunch of your friends hiding in the dark kind of surprise. No. It’s the dark alleyway with a predator around the corner waiting for you silently type. It’s the kind which keeps you awake for hours at night. You associate with it a racing heart, a blind panic and a feeling that every particle of you is in emotional pain.

Sometimes I can understand why denial is such a powerful tool. And why it might be tempting to use it to the point of clinical disturbance.

But I guess, the human mind is more resilient than that. Damn it.

Of Grandmothers

The Fellow’s grandmother passed away last week.

I didn’t know her for too long, but I will always remember her as a woman of amazing strength, independence and foresight. At 80, she walked without any support, managed apple orchards all by herself and lived alone in a massive house, in the lap of the mountains, without any complaints, or indeed desire to live anywhere else (in fact, she terrorised the countryside and made sure not a leaf was out of place in her little kingdom). And this she’d been doing for nearly 30 years.

2 weeks before granny died, she had a cardiac arrest, the result of a renal complication. Since things were looking critical, we rushed home to be with her, and I think the presence of her favourite grandsons helped her much more than medication. In fact, it’s a tribute to how much she meant to her family that all her grandchildren, living all over the country, arrived to be with her when she was unwell. Just the sight of her grandchildren brought a sparkle to her eyes and a grin to her face. She couldn’t be happier than when the apple of her eyes were teasing her, tickling her and generally making all kinds of noise in the hospital room. In fact, in less than a week she was well enough to go home, where the noise just continued and she was kept in high spirits. Ten days later, she died.

It’s been a week since granny died and it all seems surreal still. At times when the brain is trying to rationalise what happened, it feels like she survived a massive cardiac arrest just to make sure she gave us all a chance to meet her one last time.

She died as she lived – on her own terms.

Of Food, Cleaning Up and Panic

So the Fellow and I had our first dinner party last night. Needless to say, I was the one hyperventilating all through the day, cooking, tasting, cleaning, supervising (the maid), re-tasting, organising and trying to get the Fellow away from this computer long enough to help out some. The Fellow, on the other hand, dusted off the bottles of alcohol, made sure the beer was refrigerated and checked if there was enough ice to last through the night. Yes, he did help when asked (like grating a whole tin of cheese and getting the crockery out) but like he said, at one point I was creating work for him, just to keep him involved! Eventually I let him be, and just demanded he shave and change into something presentable for the evening.

Why was I so worked up about a simple dinner? Well, to begin with, we’ve never had a party at home, so that was a little scary. It’s surprising how much stuff gets spread around the house and how much I sounded like my mom when I was putting things away. As I ran around the house, organising and tidying up, the Fellow had only one thing to say (which he yelled from his den while taking a break from Mass Effect 2): lock all the rooms so people don’t go in there, and this way you won’t have to clean anything up. Keep them contained within the living room, dining room and garden he said. And he ended his monologue with “my house, my rules”.

Once I got past the Fellow and his gyan (by simply not listening anymore), I started worrying about the food. I’ve never cooked for anyone besides my immediate family (who unfortunately had to live through my experimenting-with-cooking-stage of life) and the Fellow. And since, for the past year, I’ve been cooking for only two, I had next to no idea how to cook for more people. This obviously meant second guessing myself and wondering if what I made would be enough for everyone.

Well, as it turned out, I could have invited another 8 people over for dinner, and still have food left over [Note: The Fellow, who hadn’t taken a look at how much I’d cooked till after the party was over and we were cleaning up, still hasn’t stopped laughing].

And so, even with all the pre-party nervousness, behaviour resembling the Energiser bunny, last minute checks on everything (including the Fellow), a 10 minute window of panic (when no one arrived at the designated time), and a refrigerator full of food at the end of it all (not to talk of aching feet), my first dinner party was a huge success.

I’m now a fully functional fauji wife!

Cravings. Sigh.

Something is seriously wrong with me. A month back, I was obsessed with baking. I ended up making everything from caramel custard to cakes, brownies and cookies. And I still have to try a chocolate pie, cupcakes and muffins and choco-chip cookies (amongst other things). Unfortunately my baking streak was interrupted by a little snag with my breathing (in that I couldn’t do it properly). Now it’s a full blown cold with the fever-headache-frog-stuck-in-my-throat thing happening. So obviously my oven is feeling a little neglected.

But that is not what’s seriously wrong with me.

What’s wrong is the fact that even with a stuffed nose and burning lungs, I’m craving food. And this time round, I’m thinking of malai koftas, the super-soft, creamy, delicately spiced ones, gobhi, the kind my mother-in-law made once sometime back, triple-fried potatoes in an awesome tomato gravy my aunt makes, chhole-tikki that mum made complete with green and imli chutney, aloo parathas and boondi raita made by somebody other than me…well, you get the basic idea right?

I’m worried. Really. Fat Avantika is really coming through to the surface more often these days and I’m afraid I won’t have the mental strength to keep fighting her off. Too soon, I’m going to give in, and download a recipe for cream-filled koftas or call the aunt up and get the recipe for her super-fatty, very unhealthy, absolutely delicious potatoes. Sigh.

Of Holi!

If there is one festival I can’t resist celebrating, it’s Holi. It doesn’t matter how ill I am (with the mumps) or whether I’m having trouble breathing (like I have been for the past week). Holi just has to be enjoyed the right way. And this means all the pre-preparation (oiling hair/face/arms and nail-painting), and then getting drenched in (usually cold) water and covered in several layers of colours. Of course, in my case, it doesn’t matter what colours are applied. By the end of the revelries, I generally end up looking one even shade of maroon, with the random yellow/purple streak adding character to my face. Add to that prominent whites of eyes and big white teeth, and the effect can be quite scary.

But it’s all so much fun. Right from shivering in the cold to drying up in a patch of sun, from thandai and jalebis to the taste of gulal in the mouth, from hand prints on t-shirts to white kurtas becoming technicoloured, from tossing water balloons to throwing buckets of water, holi has something for everyone.

And personally, I think the best part is after you finish playing holi – that time spent scrubbing all the colour off your skin (yearly shedding I call it) – waiting to see what you end up looking like (and then grinning at similarly colourful people as you cross them on the road over the next 2 days).

Anyhoo. I have pink ears today. What do you look like?