Day 18: A delicious beginning

My chicken was very well received at work, by everyone’s tummies.

Today I’ve decided to talk about the first meal of the day. I love breakfast. Like everybody, I get really crabby if I haven’t eaten—more so if I’ve missed breakfast. Mom taught me how to whip up an omelette when I was 10. 

Sadly, I decided to stay in the same cooking grade ever since. So after one of my signature omelettes—it mostly involves whatever I can get my hands on from the crisper—I geared up for an interesting day at work. By the way, this is what regular breakfast looks like:

Happy fat cells and all

We invited a CEO to office today to discuss the magazine and work-life in general, over pizza. It’s always nice to gain perspective and ideate aloud. I’m exceptionally tired today but have great plans for the next three nights. I can’t believe three weeks are going to be up so soon! Bah. So after a lot of washing, organising and agonising, I’m ready for bed.

So what I’m really trying to say is:

 1) Have a happy time of day. Make the most of it.    

Day 17: The Gates of Heaven (a.k.a Kitchen door)

Before I write about what you really want to read, I have to tell you: I finished reading the funniest book today! The Gates (of Hell are About to Open. Mind the Gap.) by John Connolly is exactly about what the full title gives away. The back cover reads: “...The fate of humanity lies in the hands of one small boy, an even smaller dog, and a very unlucky demon...”

Here’s a paragraph from it: (Ref: Since it’s about Hell’s gates opening and all, the book is obviously full of diabolic demons, human-insects flying around, and people coming back from the dead.)

“Bishop Bernard had never been a handsome man. He had, to be honest, been uglier than a wart on a toad’s bum, and the centuries spent buried beneath the church had done nothing to improve his looks...”

You get the drift. Though I borrowed this book, I can’t wait to buy my own copy. It’s just one of those books. I also prompted e-ordered another one of Connolly’s works, it’s called The Book of Lost Things. It'll be a week before I can get started on that, thanks to Flipkart.

Now, about the chicken; I was very excited throughout the day, and told anyone who would listen about my dinner plans. I walked into the house and head straight for the marinade. I placed it on the kitchen counter, to thaw—and wanted to stand there and watch it, but went about my usual business instead.

About 15 minutes later, I heated a non-stick vessel with a wee-bit of oil in it. I tipped the marinade in, added a little water and let the magic begin. Everyone I’d spoken to about cooking chicken estimated it to be done in about 20-25 minutes. They asked me to poke it around and check on it every 10 minutes.

This chicken took a little under an hour. I let it sit on a very slow flame throughout, and seriously, I don’t remember the last time I was this patient. All in all, this is what it looks like:

Yum hogaya

If I may say so myself, you should really try some. No worry, I’ll make it again for you, soon.  

I’m surrounded by the most amazing people who helped me out with this. So here’s a big shout out and thanks to them (and marthastewart.com). Lastly, I’ve saved some of it for mom. I’m sure, in her eyes, this is a bigger achievement than all my biggest achievements combined.

So what I'm really trying to say is:

1) Success smells and tastes spicy too. You just have to get the ingredients right! 

Day 16: The leap of faith

Siblings are blessings. God was very happy with the way you were leading your life—or lead your past life—and decided to give you more happiness. That’s how siblings came to be.

I was Skyping with my brother from Kuwait today when all of a sudden he stopped talking and squinted at his screen. Why do you look so…brown!? Don’t you use sunscreen? You should use some of that. Are those dark circles? Why do you look so tired? Your eyes look puffy.

Ah, sibling joy.

I was itching to say maybe it’s just your stupid webcam. But instead, I asked him to send a few products my face could really use; and he happily obliged. My ability to remain unfazed and undeterred through most situations is credited to growing up with two older boys. One taught me how to climb down stairs two at a time and the other, to appreciate the finer things of life (read: his wicked sense of humour.) Also, my mother doesn’t miss an opportunity to remind me, they are excellent cooks.

Today, I called dibs on this super comfy chair in office whose (now previous) owner recently quit. It’s one of those cushioned ones that tilts all the way back. Needless to say, it was a fruitful day at work.

This evening I decided to graduate from vegetables to chicken. After I’d Googled at least three different recipes to marinate chicken, I realised all of them were pretty much the same. So, to be on the safe side, I tried a combination of all three and this is what chicken-under-process looks like:

Also what anticipation looks like

Though I had something leafy for dinner, there’s going to be some serious meat in the house tomorrow. I’ve tucked the chicken in a blanket of curd and spices so it has one whole night to work its magic! I’ll decide what exactly I want to do with it tomorrow. Until then, fingers/toes/eyes crossed.

So what I’m really trying to say is:

1) Those people you love to bits? Keep them very close.

Day 15: Some more putting your hands together...

Lisa and I interned with a lifestyle magazine back in 2009. We reconnected recently and found that we have more than one thing in common. She is originally from Hyderabad, moved to Mumbai to pursue a degree in fashion technology, and is almost done with a master’s from New York City. Here’s what she has to say:

Moving Day a.k.a the Day I Wanted to Kiss Arthur Scott

Shoes. 2 cardboard boxes full. Check.

Clothes. 2 suitcases full. Check.

Furniture. Disassembled. Check.

Utensils. Still dirty.

Sigh.

I looked apprehensively at the dishwasher. I’d used it plenty—rinsed dirty things, loaded them into the dishwasher and taken them out once they were clean. But somehow, in the four months I’d been living in New York City, I’d managed to never actually run the damn thing.

I was 24 and I’d never operated a dishwashing machine.

In my defence, I’d lived most of my life in India, where ‘dishwasher’ meant ‘that lady who comes by every morning and does the dishes, not to mention all sorts of other household chores I’d never think about till I moved to this ridiculously expensive city.’

It couldn’t be that hard, I thought to myself. I mean, my roommates had shown me how to do it right when I’d first moved in. I couldn’t remember a thing that they’d said, but I did remember thinking—that sounds easy!

I’d ask for a refresher, but neither of them was home. They were off visiting family for the duration of the winter break.

And that was how I wanted it. I was moving out of my stupidly small but expensive, eerily Stepford-esque East Village apartment to a much larger, slightly cheaper place in East Harlem. The apartment was so tiny that it would have been impossible to get anything done with two petite passive-aggressive roommates underfoot.

Except that bit with the dishwasher. It would have gone splendidly had I two dishwasher-trained roommates to (once again) show me the dishwasher way.

So I sucked it up, rinsed out those plate, pots and pans, stuck ‘em in the dishwasher. There was a clearly marked space for dishwashing detergent, which I proceeded to fill and then I dashed in a little extra. I wanted those dishes sparkly.

You’re not supposed to do that. You’re also not supposed to use the dishwashing liquid that you use to wash dishes by hand—which, I’d like to add, had been kept deceptively close to the dishwasher. You’re supposed to use a powder detergent specifically formulated for dishwasher use. Which was stored inconveniently out of sight in the cabinet under the sink.

Anyhoo, the dishes were in the trays, the soap was where it was supposed to be, so I shut the dishwasher doors, turned the knob all the way to the right side and toddled off to my room to do other productive moving-days things.

Guess what happened when I toddled back, a mere 15 minutes later?

Foam. Flood.

Panic.

2 fewer rolls of paper towels and an urge to kiss Arthur Scott (of Scott TM brand paper towels, and yes I looked him up.)

Crisis averted!

Now all I had to do was get a bunch of drunk classmates to actually move my stuff (yes, some of it was a bit damp). Which is a whole other story.

*Lisa Mahapatra eventually got over her irrational fear of dishwashers in just 5 short months. She even used one, start to finish, on May 20, 2012, without flooding her beautiful East Harlem loft. She hopes that this streak of dishwashing luck lasts the rest of her life.

Day 14: Reward and recognition

Today was a working Sunday, and I could not have been happier about it.

We publish a quarterly magazine for this club in Andheri, which is a newsletter of sorts for its members. The club’s pan-Asian restaurant recently revamped its menu and wants to add a page about it in the upcoming issue. So they had a brainwave, and decided to make it a personal experience—they invited a member family and a writer to sample and review the food. Guess who the writer was.

Though I had planned to dust the house today, after I was asked if I’d like to help with this story, I made peace with the fact that plans don’t always work out.

The family I lunched with was the cutest. We started with the customary connection-making conversation and realised that we did have some things in common. I vaguely remember one of their nieces as a senior from my school in Kuwait. The food was super, my favourite being the fish. We bid goodbye and hoped to meet again.

I came home and dozed off for a bit. Later in the evening, I decided to go vegetable shopping. The bhendi was really fresh making it the obvious choice. I decided it was time to upgrade to a tougher main course and mentally calculated the numerous possibilities with this one.

After I’d chopped up the bhendi along with a few tomatoes, I put it in a pan with a little oil. Then I added everything on the kitchen counter to it, with a sprinkle of fried onions. It sat on a slow flame doing its stuff for the longest time, but looked pretty presentable after it was done. I hesitantly tasted a little and actually liked it. It was on the right side of soft and didn’t even smell funny!  (I’d nudge some towards you, for sure.) 

Here’s a peek:

You’d like it, really

The time to sleep in peace is now.

So what I’m really trying to say is: 

1) Safe experimentation in the kitchen is fun. It pays not to be overambitious, at least in the beginning.

Day 13: How to prolong a general state of well-being

Your two-step guide to prolonging a general state of well-being:

Step 1: Get a full-body massage

Step 2: Ask for aromatic oil

Since I’ve begun to work out again, I decided to treat myself to a full-body massage today. Massages are great energisers. After they put you off to sleep for a good half day, you wake up feeling as fresh as a daisy! All those little aches, pains and sore muscles vanish, at least for a month.

I booked an appointment for this afternoon, and was there before time. My masseuse’s name was Bilkiss. And man, was she the kiss of bliss. (Don’t tell me you didn’t see that coming!) She began with a head massage and seriously, I don’t remember much after that. The soft music and her kneading my dough of a body put me to deep sleep. Needless to say, my day went well.

Later this evening, after I’d washed my hair, I decided it was time to make some food. But sadly, my body and mind were in a synchronised state of fatigue. So I chewed on an apple, read a little, wrote this post and now I have to go attend to my bed. It’s calling me.

So what I’m really trying to say is:

1) Sleep while you can. Avoid last-minute hurry, sleep on time and wake up early. 

2) Pamper your body and mind. Be extra nice to them as often as you can.

Day 12: Surrealism on a stage

My favourite part of a play is before it begins. I love to watch the expressions of people who pour out of the previous show, while I sit in a corner sipping chai. If they exit boisterously laughing and hushing each other up in a fit of giggles, you can imagine what you’re in for. If they leave solemnly looking straight and lost deep in thought, your excitement will know no bounds. Plays make you think, much like books.

The one I watched today is based on the vagina. Yup, it was the one you’ve heard of. If you haven’t watched it yet, like I hadn’t until two hours ago, I hope for your sake that you get to. Good plays are a rollercoaster of emotions. This one made me laugh till I wheezed and had me crying like a cat. Besides, what other form of entertainment allows you to witness performers par excellence weave magic two feet away from your face?

Like books or sleep, plays transfer you to an alternate reality. They let your body sit cross-legged and still in a cold theatre, and transport your mind. They make you forget about washing clothes and scrubbing dishes.

So after a crazy day at work today, I am happy to report a fruitful evening out. Prithvi’s cutting chai and live music are quite an experience. So are the guys who perform on its stage and pour out of its doors.

Fluteman

 So what I’m really trying to say is: 

 1) Read a book or watch a movie/play. 

 2) Cultivate a hobby or few plants. 

 3) Don’t be a bore, nobody likes those guys.

Day 11: A general state of well-being

Love doesn’t conquer all, food does. Most of the world’s problems are, in some way or the other, related to food. And as this series of posts has made evident, mine too. I’m seriously considering farming in a little box (read: vast patch of land in Mumbai). Growing my own food, and then eating it; maybe I’ll start with uprooting one of my mom’s plants.

Maybe I’m being a little too ambitious, and senile.

After my stomach scare yesterday, my gut spoke to me again. She asked me to make some palak, and I listened to her. My easy-breezy recipe which involves chopping—insert vege’s name here—and garnishing it with very little of everything on the kitchen counter, before letting it sit on the stove, works wonders.

Though my stomach was up and running thanks to the magic potion, the palak was a safe bet. And extremely edible too! Not only did I eat it for dinner but I’ve also dared to pack some up for tomorrow’s lunch.

Cooking, and not living off frozen food/Maggi, is more empowering than I’d ever give it credit. To celebrate this small joy, I treated myself to Mango ice cream today, and a play at Prithvi tomorrow.  

So what I’m really trying to say is:

1) Unwind.

Day 10: Investments and stomach ache

I was abruptly woken up at four this morning by my stomach. It had settled into a tight knot which made me extremely queasy. I walked around the house for a bit, secretly enjoying the quiet, and controlling the urge to puke. I wondered what mom what would do if she was here. And then I remembered; of course! She’d make me drink some magic potion!

This magic potion is called Jeevan Mixture. It is the solution to any stomach-related problem. My dad, who is the undisputed health expert in the family (immediate and extended), called it a life saver (thrice, in the same conversation). 

All you have to do is pour some water in a bowl, add a tablespoon of this potion to it, stir well and drink up. You’ll be fast asleep like nothing happened in the next 15 minutes; I always am.

This is gold!

In the middle of the day, we were given this complicated tax-saving-investment-whatever-it-is form at work. I call it complicated because it’s the first time I’ve received one. You see, I’ve only recently become a taxable citizen of the country (and man, is it taxing already). In short, a part of my salary will now go towards filling up a pothole which will only be one unassuming bicyclist away from returning to its old ways.

After a good 20 minutes of eating my office account’s head I realised that if I managed my investments well, I won’t have any taxes deducted.

Someone else could save the potholes!

After a phone call here and an email there, I decided what had to be done. I felt very mature and in-control for a whole 10 seconds, before a headache ensued.  

So what I’m really trying to say it:

 1) Keep numbers of a plumber, electrician, doctor and relative handy. You never know when you’ll need one. 

2) Buy Jeevan Mixture. Drink it.

Day 9: Hello, goodbye

My help is like good news. You have to wail to the Gods before they think you’re worthy of it. If you’re me, then you’re multi-tasking between your chores and that. But she’s training me well. I’m sure this is exactly what ‘throw them in the deep-end of a pool with tiny sharks, and they’ll learn to swim’ is all about.

I feel like we’re bonding. Since there isn’t that much work to do around here, and there’s absolutely no one to say anything to her, she’s taking liberty and a little break. She shows up when she feels like and I’m sort of warming up to it. Once you have a system in place, things aren’t all bad.

One of my awesome friends is moving to Delhi. She’s not sure if she wants to come back and that makes me sad. We don’t meet very often because work gets that way. But knowing that she’s not going to be a rickshaw ride away sucks.

We met at a cute little café with few of our other friends and talked about the randomest things; including my belly and belt, in that order. I had to excuse myself early because I had an errand to run, as always.

You know that feeling when your mom and you agree on getting the hall painted off-white but she finalises the shade bordering yellow instead? You warn her of the yellow-ness but she insists it’ll wear out soon and look off-white. But no, it never does. You look at the freshly-painted walls and think no part of my house will ever be this shade! Never! But for the moment—and five years to come—you make peace with it. And that gives you the strength to sit between all the yellow and watch TV. 

That’s what I felt when I hugged her good-bye and crossed the street. Some things you just have to make peace with, until the day you can change ‘em.

On a happier note, I now have another—awesome food is the first—legit reason to visit Delli!

Sigh

So what I’m really trying to say is: 

1) Entitlement needs suck. Get over it, nobody owes you anything.

2) The sooner you make peace with things, the happier you'll be.

Day 8: Put your hands together for...

Today, I’ve invited a dear friend of mine from college to share his experience of living alone. He and I worked as a team throughout our journalism major. We (mostly he) also wrote for, edited and revamped our college magazine. We’re broadly smiling on the masthead of the 2009-2010 issue. After college he moved to Chennai for further studies and now works in Delhi. Here’s what he has to say:

A home away from home

I have now lived on my own for almost one year. This is the first time I have stepped out of the protected environment that was lovingly created by my parents and later, my college. For someone in the same age group as the owner of this blog, this is not something to be proud of.

I hate to admit it, but I really liked doing nothing at home. My parents would do all the household chores while I was busy with my life on the internet. Those were good days, but I would not recommend living like that to anyone. Ever since I moved out, I’ve had to learn many things at double the speed, and I really wish I had been more inclined to learn all those things back home.

Many of you will be unable to grasp the enormity of my so-called backwardness. I just have one example for you. By the time I bought my first packet of Bournvita, I was already past my teens.

But college afforded me a lot of luxuries denied to those living on their own. Reality hit when I moved into my first house. I was already swimming in the deep end at work. I was given a challenging assignment and would always return home late. They say you deserve some comfort after a tough day at work but I had none of that. I was on a low budget, but it mostly was poor house-hunting skills. My house was more of a shoebox—stuffy, dirty and cockroach-y.

I really am an extremist when it comes to these creatures. I believe that cockroaches are ugly, disgusting and must be killed. I bought the trusted Laxman Rekha one afternoon and painted the house with it that night. The house looked like a warzone the next morning, with at least a dozen of those foul creatures lying on their backs, past the last throes of their disgusting lives.

My next task was to get the house cleaned. Paying a housemaid for this was a little beyond my budget and hence, I set about doing it, with my roommate helping me out occasionally. It’s safe to say that we were not too successful and despite moving to a new place, we continued to live like pigs.

In the meantime, I bought myself a sofa-cum-bed. Till winters came along, I did not bother to sleep on it because I was too lazy to open and fold it every day. But then my mattress became so cold that I had to use the sofa-cum-bed to not die of frostbite. It has been a useful acquisition and I would recommend all working people to get themselves something like it.

My ever-caring mum had insisted on packing a kitchen full of utensils in one bag. Despite my loud protests, she made me lug it all the way to another city. Looking back, I really do not know how I would have managed to survive without them. After getting myself a gas connection and a burner, I began to cook. Thus, living costs fell sharply.

Cooking has been one of the most liberating talents I have acquired this year. Cooking and cleaning the house in the morning gives me some time to think along with the feeling of achievement. There is no better feeling than living in a house you have cleaned thoroughly or in eating the food you learned to cook (even if you manage it after making a thorough mess many times).

I can safely say that it kept me from going into a rut—a trap many of my colleagues have fallen into already. Every day I would face a different kind of culinary challenge and while the reward would be fairly edible most of the time, I really enjoyed having a good laugh at myself when the end product turned out to be a disaster.

They say Rome was not built in a day, neither was it built by one tireless man. No matter how much effort I put in maintaining the house, my lazy roommates made the task difficult. They would do it sometimes, often not thoroughly. I admit I am a little too picky about cleanliness, but I can assure you that it is not too difficult to achieve.

It’s been a year now and our house is much dirtier than it was when we moved in. Thankfully, we are now moving to a much better house and I plan to hand the cleaning to a housemaid once I get a raise. Hopefully, the next place will be better maintained.

Looking back, I can see how far I have come in under a year. Living on my own has been a rewarding experience. Would I recommend it? Yes, of course. Most of us long to go back home all the time. To make life bearable away from it, a little effort can go a long way in making your house feel like home.

Best of luck.

Yours truly,

A domestic bachelor

Day 7: Dumplings overdose. What a heavenly way to die

I died and went to sushi/dumpling heaven this afternoon.

But before that, when Naseeruddin Shah, Ratna Pathak, Randeep Hooda and a couple of theatre actors who spit awesome are sharing the same air as you, you know your Saturday night is made. Best invested 300 bucks ever!

My friends from office and I decided to indulge ourselves today. So, we booked a table for an all-you-can-eat dumpling/tempura prawns/sushi bonanza. We warned each other that a heavy breakfast would mean a revoked invitation, and decided to meet exactly at International Lunch Hour.

We were seated at the best table in the house (pre-booked four days ago by me). All five of us were literally starving and made straight for the (at least) 15 different types of sushi first, followed by 10 types of dumplings, 10 types of starters, the main course and loads of dessert—Baskin-Robbins beside tiny assorted cakes.

Half of the sushi counter

Buffets are exhausting.

After what seemed like a day, we were done sampling three quarters of the stuff. Then we couldn’t get up. We just sat there laughing and—I’m sure that's what it was—hallucinating. Then somebody said Jabong instead of Jenga and we knew it was time to make a move.

So the only thing that topped the food this afternoon was the company. It was a weekend well-spent.

When I got home almost in the evening, I was extremely tired and decided to take a nap; nothing like snoozing off right before bedtime. But then I remembered I had to go vegetable shopping and sort out lunch for tomorrow. I had also promised to say hello to khala. A heavy sigh and change of clothes later, I was out again.

After this afternoon, I had no plan to look at any heavy food for some time. So I did a repeat telecast of my classic vegetable recipe. This time I chose tomatoes.

All in all, it’s been a good week. Much exciting work to look forward to next week. And oh, there’s a surprise for you tomorrow. All I’m giving out is, tune in for some perspective!

So what I’m really trying to say is:

1) Make friends with foodies. They are an interesting people. 

Day 6: Fretting is for ferrets

Today I finished reading what now is my (current) favourite book. Bossypants by Tina Fey is the autobiography of America’s First Funny Lady. Her sharp wit and devil-may-care attitude shines through every word. Her style of writing needs no introduction—SNL and 30 Rock are thriving examples. What’s most amazing about this book, and the reason I’m all over it is that I related to her. And you will too!

Fey is immensely talented, absolutely hilarious, and surprisingly humble. These are the last few lines of the book: (Ref: At some point in her life, she was very anxious and indecisive about having another baby. She explains her paranoia by relating a memory from her childhood. A set of siblings, who were being babysat for the first time in their lives, by her mother, and were overtly sceptical of the whole arrangement.)

“...They were going to be fine, but they couldn’t possibly believe it. That must have been what I looked like to my doctor friend. That must be what I look like to anyone with a real problem...A little tiny person with nothing to worry about running in circles, worried out of her mind. Either way, everything will be fine.”

My love for Tina Fey is now irrevocable.

I found my lost mojo this afternoon as it sat pretty on the cutting board in the form of a cabbage. Easy and delicious! I wasn’t going to give up on cooking so easily. I love food! Cabbage bhaj­i is one of my mom’s (100s of) specialities. It turns out super when cooked correctly, and even if left a little uncooked there’s no harm done.

I went with my instinct and started on it remembering a golden piece of advice my mom had shared with me about cooking, “Treat food lovingly and don’t be hard-handed. It’s not going to like it and it’ll show!”

So with all the optimism and gentleness I could muster, I made the bhaji. And I am extremely happy to report that it turned out well. (The I’d-offer-you-some sort of well). Then I went about my weekend-cleaning business, and the house is all clean (and so am I!) 

Burrrp*

Now I’m off to watch that play I mentioned earlier. It’s by Motley Theatre and it’s got rave reviews. Happy Saturday to you!

PS: Fey gave birth to her second daughter about the same time as the release of the book.

So what I’m really trying to say is:

1) Panicking is not an option. If you have a panicky friend/relative who insists you let them know you’re all right every day, then please, just bloody do it.

2) Trust yourself. Everything is going to be all right.

Day 5: Haves and have-nots

I had the most amazing dinner. *wipes drool

But my day didn’t start on that note. This morning as I customarily checked my email, my face flashed a deep frown. A few months ago I had applied for a fellowship at a prestigious university in Amrika. I spent a whole month fussing over my SOP and all of that. I knew full well that my chance of winning this free education was very slim, but I gave it a shot anyway—'cause that's how I roll.

I finally heard from them this morning, regretting that they couldn’t give it to me. Something I knew all along, right? There was no reason to feign surprise or name call. (Which I didn’t. Ok, maybe a little, in my head.) I was heart-broken for a whole 10 minutes before someone complimented me on my new eye shadow.

Since last night’s dinner was a total bust, I didn’t have any lunch to take to work. Frankly, jam-roti didn’t do squat for my hunger when I was six, there was a fat chance it would now. That’s how idlis came to the rescue—and a lot of chicken curry and fried rice that my colleague had ordered.  

At my work station, I’ve pinned an elaborate calendar on my soft board which displays all my deadlines. It’s filling up too fast for my liking but I secretly love the high pace of things. It was mid-afternoon when I decided to make some dinner plans. I temporarily lack motivation in the kitchen so I couldn’t think of trying to whip up anything tonight. My friend recommended we try this seafood restaurant in Worli which sounded like it met our standards. (Read: very cheap, huge quantities, may or may not have wash-basin.)

I love eating at new places and always have. My extreme and single-minded love to devour anything that walks/crawls ends up leaving a dent, hole and forest-fire in my wallet. So this friend of mine (fellow foodie) and I decided to try as many cheap-but-nom-nom-nom eating places in Mumbai as we could. We’re very serious about reviewing these hidden-finds and have a Google doc as testament to our commitment.

Anyhoo, we had this huge mixed meat and fish thali, a large portion of prawns on the side, two extra helpings of very expensive neer dosa (we were warned) and a bowl full of kheema that was most likely Made in Heaven. We ended up paying exactly 200 bucks per person and thanked the owner for his service to mankind.

I had such a good time that I forgot to click a picture.

So what I’m really trying to say is:

1) Dressing up is a great motivator.

2) Make plans with people who will not pull your spirits down, or simply set out to explore your city.

Day 4: Roses are pink and violets are...none

She showed! The house was swept and swabbed! Happiest morning ever!

A pleasant morning equals a chirpy day. I reviewed a really cool coffee-table book for an in-flight magazine today, and everyone is office unanimously demanded cheesecake. We didn’t find any of that around so I helped myself to some Gems instead.

Today is the day I’d have to cook some real food. I can’t live on salad and defrosted chicken forever! I bought some mushrooms and rotis on the way home, and geared up for some awesome kitchen time!

After I’d chopped up the mushrooms and a few essential vegetables to go with it, I remembered mom saying something about sautéing them before cooking. Cool. I marched to the fridge and scouted for some garlic paste. Mom always has ginger and garlic pastes stored for convenience (it took me a while to tell the difference).

Then I scooped out a tablespoon of it. Mushrooms placed neatly in a pan on the stove, I smeared the paste as evenly and Nigella Lawson-ly as I could. Then I waited for them to give me a sign. They looked different after a bit, so I tossed everything else in. I threw in an egg for good measure too. After it looked cooked enough, I grabbed a spoon happily to taste it.

Read that little ‘about me’ section on the right. Yeah, go on. Read?

I can’t cook.

I don’t remember anybody telling me that garlic is a powerful weapon of mass destruction (except my mother, later in the night, on Skype). Everything, including the kitchen, was enveloped in it! I had to pour Jif over everything and then spray around some deo too.

Anyway, I separated scraps of food from here and there, and polished it off with the rotis. I’m basically food-less for tomorrow afternoon and plan to fill up on jam-roti and everybody else’s tiffins. Well, the morning made up for the evening, I really have nothing to complain about.

Also, look what I woke up to today! My new favourite hobby is watering plants!

Heart*

So what I’m really trying to say is:

1) Comfort foods are best eaten out of the house, and kept away from the freezer.

2) If it doesn’t smell right, it can’t be.

Day 3: Umar badh rahi hai aur badan dard bhi

My body hurts. Yes, it still does. My fat cells are not happy. This morning was pretty standard except, guess who I bumped into on the way home from the gym? Yes! My help! She didn’t even let me greet her and rattled off into a spiel about why she hadn’t shown. By the end of it, she promised to turn up after I got home in the evening! Yay! I had something to look forward to tonight. (Read: slouch on the sofa and watch Sex and the City reruns from six years ago.)

Work is very busy nowadays. On any given day, we’re a pretty high-strung lot who like to eat fast. But we’re even more excited these days. The thing is my team is working on a super exciting project for a hot-shot client. So we’re constantly bouncing ideas off each other when we’re not complaining about other people’s ringtones.

I got off work a little late and decided to swim now that I had fallen into the lake. I went grocery shopping! I bought carrots, cucumbers, capsicums and some other green, leafy stuff that looked awesome. As I walked back home through a dingy shortcut, I heard an old man greet his friend and answer with the title of this post, when asked how he was. My sentiments exactly, Sir. My sentiments exactly.

Since I’ve been living off the chicken mom left behind so far, I decided to toss up a salad. After I’d chopped some of my favourite greens up, I poured a little olive oil on it and seasoned it with oregano. Sex and the City couldn’t wait!

You’re really optimistic and delusional if you think I curled up on the sofa and actually did what I had planned. Soon after I got a little comfortable, the clock spelled doom. There were only me and Carrie Bradshaw in the house and only one of us had dishes to worry about. We had a no-show today as well. So I trudged to the kitchen, cursing under my breath, and went about what now is my daily routine.

On the up side, office-friends have booked tickets for a play at Prithvi Theatre! Cannot.Wait!

So what I’m really trying to say is:

1)  Talk to someone, (No, people you spend the day with at work or school are not counted.) Skype, Whatsapp, Gmail; make an international call if you have to (Viber!), but do it! 

2) Buy vegetables, eat them.

3)Buy milk, drink it.