cooking - a great therapy

Cooking is a chore, yes it is. And who likes chores, of course, nobody. But there is one chore in the world that given time and means i would love to to do over and over again. The joys of cooking are not new, they have been discovered, rediscovered and then re-re-discovered again...Food art, food photography, food blogs, food politics, what is unheard of?

I love cooking like I love a new pair of lingerie. The smell of home made pound cake, the taste of freshly chaunked daal, the smell of fresh cut coriander on a plate of aloo-jeera, the aroma from a bowl of piping hot mutton biryani- this is love, fresh, pure, ever changing, reinventing, everlasting..

When I go through the lowest of lows, cooking helps me block the deep dark menacing thoughts out of my head. When I am happy, a good plate of food makes me ecstatic.

Simple food, complicated food, anything that has flavor, is mine to love and to eat. Good food is like a tall glass of cold water on a hot summer day. It quenches your thirst and leaves you wanting more.

I think the best think every food lover and cook should do is a keep a camera handy. No matter what you cook, how you cook, how you dress it up or not, just get a shot, and put it up there.

Cooking is a very addictive art, and one that is healthy, so dont be shy just be camera happy.

I hope i can live up to my own suggestions some day soon......

The need to forgive.

Among all the powers that God has entrusted us with, lies the power of forgiveness. One that we rarely use, one that we forget, we even have. In forgiveness lies great freedom. It brings new Life, it cleanses the soul. In forgiving others I find that I stumble upon my own mistakes and hence seek forgiveness from those I have pained.

It is the darkness within and the false grandeur of a perfect self that leads to all the hurt and pain.

Rights and wrongs are not not really that : they are mere lines, drawn, erased and redrawn by us. Each of us has the power to make our own rights and wrongs without crossing paths or lines with someone elses's rights and wrongs and without making those lines for someone else.

No one but The One Above us has the right to regulate and dictate these lines.

All the hurt, pain and suffering stems from wanting to control and establish a set of rules, what we name as being right, by His will, trying to act as His messengers. Who are we to decide what is good or bad, what is right or wrong. What God gave me, He gave you and gave them, then how does one become superior to another, why does one be the master and another the unwilfull subordinate?

He made us all free spirits and free people, and gave us all that He deemed precious and beautiful. He gave us the circle of Life and Death, to help us understand and appreciate the love and beauty in all. And then He gave us the power to forgive.

The power that would remove all pain, cleanse all hurt. The power that He wants us to excercise the most.

My mother tells me there is nithing bigger than forgiving and I know now how hard it is to forgive, how hard it is to live with that forgiveness, but how sweet is the sense of feeling devoid of anger, devoid of ill will.

To all those I have hurt....Please forgive me...and to those who have hurt me, I forgive....

Sometimes..

Sometimes I am scared that i grew up too fast, that I moved away to quickly and that there probably really was no hurry afetr all.

I miss the feeling of coming back with mithai on a dry august afternoon. I miss sitting on the ground and eating whatever ma had cooked. I miss being able to get papa's briefcase when he returns home from work, i miss helping ma in the kitchen, i miss being scolded that I knew no better, i missing fighting with my baby sister, I miss doing things my parent's way.

Sometimes I wonder whether I really do like all this independance so much of it all so early...do I reaaly like my own kitchen, do i like to be all good and grown up and not indulge in verbal duels and cat fights...do like just lying around without having anyone to tell me what to do..do i reall like doing everything my way...do like that I have grown up so much..so soon...Do I?

An everyday feeling........

Life brings us at crossroads more often than we would like. Making a choice is really hard.  The hardest choice in life is to make the decision to move on. In all practicalities one should move on, get along in Life. Find greener pastures, get over ones losses and in effect forget the mishap or mishaps. But in your heart you will always feel a certain helplessness of having no hold over what happened. Over a period of time we will learn to blame it on 'kismet. But hear from someone who suffers each day, what you could have done, what you should have done, the face of that loved one, all the prayers that should have been said,all those thoughts come back to haunt you.

It seems like many years have passed by since she left us, my vivacious, short tempered, ingenious young aunt. In many ways I am a copy of her, the same height, the same temper, the same smile, the same round face, and even to an extent the same ingenuity. I often think of all that I could of done for her to be still with us, all that we could have done for her still to be a part of the family. And I can think of so many things. It fills me with remorse to think that I was so naive and selfish that it took a life for me to realise that power of faith and love is the greatest source of strength. I believe every person needs one such person who would give up everything, even their life for him or her. If you have that one person, you find a reason to live and the prayers you need. More than anything she wanted to live, on her last day, as she confirmed to the nurse on being asked that I was her niece and that my name is amrita. someone with such a strong will and so much passion for Life has not only every right to live but every right to enjoy every moment of life. I cannot and will not question His decision. I donot know how He decides that one has enough sufferings and needs to be rid of them, I donot know how He decides that someone's Chakra of Life has come full circle, whatever He does, no one can or should question, but I pray to Him that He gives everyone atleast one person, a father, a mother, a lover, a child, a sibling, an in-law, someone who loves you so much that Life seems worthwhile and complete. I would be the happiest if He gives us , all of them.

She did not have that one person, let alone all, who without skipping a beat would give up everything for her. i wish I could have been that person, I wish I did not have to say that now it is too late, i wish I would have been a better person. Today, I ask her and God both, to forgive me, to forgive all of us. May God rest her soul in peace. Her passing away taught us all a lot of things, and it taught me a lot. Some part of me will always hate me, for not doing what I could or should have. And there is no denying that there was a lot I could have a done, a lot.

I pray to her, to forgive us, to forgive me, to Bless us from up there and thank her for the great many things she has taught us with her sacrifice.

I pray to God to give her, and all those who have died without fullfilling their dreams and all of us living, to give us long,happy, healthy, peaceful and successful lives and make us better people and good human beings.

I am sorry Moni bua.

Remebering Pragya

Amidst all the shock and frustration over the attacks in Bombay, another horiffic news reached me. Pragya Mehrotra expired.
Memories are fading, but as I remember, Pragya, Sumedha, Ahona and me used to have a lot of "heated discussions" with Pragya, probably being the only one debating because she really was interested in a discussion, while the rest of us where just indulging in a sophisticated ego trip. When she spoke there were only wide eyed onlookers, people stared at her like she spoke greek! Boys thought she was crazy, but back then I dont think boys knew what deep discussions or passionate causes meant, the only ones who seemed to be interested where either numbered or pseudo intellectuals. Either way, none a match for our spunky girl.
By the end of our school years she was a branded feminist and how I would have loved to join her, if only I had half her dedication to "the cause": whatever it was. If someone asked me how I remember Pragya, I would always say, I remeber her as that graceful, elegant, tall girl with great in depth analytical skills and the wonderful gift of expression. I still remember, she was the only other girl, decked in a plain cotton sarree, her style statement, while all the rest of us strutted our stuff, in silks, chiffons and zardosis.
Over the years, we were never in touch, but that girl was inspiration personified. I was happy to know that she was at law school, getting ready to do perhaps what best suited her personality, standing up for what she thought was right against the wrongs.
Infact, I have not been half as happy knowing about any other contemporary's success, as I was knowing about hers.
Her pics in Mani's profile showed how beuatiful she had become over the years, how much like the Pragya I imagined her to be , when I thought of her. While I think, age , worry, life in general, somehow wilts the struggling ambitious average education seeking individual, she was perhaps doing something she truly loved and thus appeared to be blooming. That captivating, powerful smile, is still etched in my mind.
So when I heard the news from somal about her demise, it was like a bolt of lightening.
I am scared to think what may have happened. I am scared to think what I might hear.
I am not even sure I want to know.
I want to remember her forever like the girl I knew and so admired- the lovely Pragya Freya Mehrotra.

300 hundred words donot do justice to why i think it is important to know who I am and where I am coming from.

Something I wrote for a publication-
Advantages of knowing one’s root, language and culture in this era of world citizenship

-Amrita Datta, Tulane University,
New Orleans, LA
Dated: 26th august’08

While going global, and, east meets west is not a bad idea, in the long run when one takes a step back, to look at things from a third person perspective, the idea of world citizenship lands, most, if not all globe trotters and citizens of the world, if you will, in a grey area, namely identity crisis.
While you, as citizens of the world are able to make intelligent wisecracks on the open french food market and seem to have developed a taste for wasabi and raw fish, how comfortable are you in your own skin, or how much do you know about the land of your forefathers? In essence who are you and what makes you different from any other person reading this article?

To know who you are and where you come from, is imperative, and more so in today’s era.
And while I am not a great believer in building a microcosmic community feeling, I nevertheless take a pride in the fact that I am firstly an Indian, and then a cosmopolitan Bengali.
As I see the sun go down on the banks of Mississippi, I close my eyes, to smell the water, transcending myself to the banks of Haridwar, with its chiming bells and thousand lights. That is who I am. So many such things, give me a sense of belonging, keep me rooted, keep me cocooned, keep me going, so no matter where I am or who with, I know I have a long line of ancestors and an unparalleled history in terms of culture, traditions, religion and faith over looking me. That to me is all the advantage I need.

Lineage.....

A great lineage could mean so many things....to some it means a family history of Harvard or MIT degrees...or IIM and ISC graduates....to some it may mean a family history of great film stars......to many more it may mean.....a family background of politicians, civil servants, engineers or doctors.
To me a great lineage is, a family history of shared roof, a family history of loyalty, love, fearlessness, self empowerment, girl power and selfless work.

My mother often asks me to think about giving the civil service exams when I get back home, and more often than not the idea is ridiculed by my father, saying that....in the civil services lineage is very important...you have to have a background in it...a family history of civil servants.... for you to survive, else like so many others you are just a pawn, not to say that if you have a family background of civil servants then you are not a pawn, but then that is a whole different line of discussion in itself, let's keep that for some time later.
My concern here is less contextual, the question i ask myself is what is lineage?
My paternal aunt, while still a young girl, single handedly took it upon herself to bring up three brothers and two sisters, sacrificing her personal life....and becoming an income tax officer at the tender age of 21.......my maternal grandfather rose from a red cross volunteer to being the Secratary general of Red Cross simulatneously bringing up younger siblings his own five children and supporting his older siblings....
It is simple chemistry, like the change in oxidation state. To me, My aunt and grandfather add more value to the word lineage than a family history of IITians .
Ofcourse it is a great honour and responsibilty (if not burden too ) to carry the family name forward for all those who are children of privilige and lineage, in the generally percieved sense of the word, and I agree that they deserve a pat in the back for being what they are BUT to me when I see a a guy , my own classmate of four years..... from a small village in Bihar(, India), mortgage his father's only piece of land and earn an engineering degree, learn to speak english in an environment with reeks with mockery at the non english speakers, survive financial difficulties and personal struggles and get a dream job, that to me, is, lineage in the making.