Tartare

It was during a college trip to Milan, Italy. We had a filling Italian buffet breakfast served in our hotel. But the site visit in the morning was super intense and hectic and so by lunchtime, we all were starving. We walked a long way and entered a restaurant. Everyone ordered their own food. Since childhood, I am a kind who never had any fuss around food, I eat everything, and I was proud of this fact until this day. Overconfident that I can eat any food when the waiter came to take my order, I ordered randomly from the menu, Tartare. I found the rate reasonable and saw it under the non-veg/main course section and ordered it. (BTW I ordered steak tartare) When it came, I looked at it for some time; from every angle. Realized first that the yolk is raw. I thought I might not eat the yolk since it looks raw, so I started with a bite of the meat from the side. Holy shit, it's raw! I never knew about tartare. (FYI, tartare is a meat served raw, typically seasoned and shaped into small cakes.) I asked my friends around and everybody knew what tartare was! They just smiled and said, ‘you should have clarified before ordering’. It wasn’t a great deal for anybody except me. I didn’t want to create a scene, but I was so hungry. I looked at it for some time and tried to eat another bite. No, I can't eat raw meat. What do I do now? After some time, I called the waiter and told him that I don’t eat raw meat. He said, ‘you should have clarified earlier.’ Hmmm. I asked him if he could recook it. He said it was the dish I ordered. He showed me the menu pointing at the dish, in his broken Italian-English. Next, he said if I didn’t want to eat it, he asked me to order something else but it won't be replaced. Saying that he went away. We were short in time. We had to go back to the site. Finding this restaurant took a lot of time, and waiting for the dish extra time. And also there were people waiting for the seats. I couldn’t order another new dish. Besides, ordering another dish means I had to wait for another minimum 30mins. My friends would be done eating by then. I was also v v hungry. I called him again, and this time he asked the chef to deal with me, instead. The chef with a long white chef cap came. He looked tired, irritated and furious. The restaurant was crowded. I tried to make him understand that I don’t eat raw meat and that I didn’t know this dish would be raw meat. He was looking at me amazed/furious, I couldn’t understand his expression much. He said that this was the dish that I had ordered, pointing at the menu. It was a fine-dine restaurant and we should maintain silence. Even the falling down of a knife could be heard prominently, as everyone ate in silence. After arguing a lot, politely, in a soft voice and with lots of patience, from both sides, in broken English, he said, pointing his finger at the menu, ‘THIS…YOU ORDERED…’ and shrugged his shoulder. I said to him, ‘I CANT EAT RAW, PLEASE DO SOMETHING TO IT, ANYTHING BUT NOT RAW.’ ‘BOIL, FRY, BAKE, ….ANYTHING, JUST DO SOMETHING TO IT.’ I added. ‘FRY?’ his tone was a question. His neck bent. Forehead squeezed. ‘WHATEVER IS QUICK ….I’M HUNGRY’ I made all gestures possible to make him understand. ‘BOIL?’ ‘QUICK QUICK…..HUNGRY HUNGRY’ I started speaking like him. He took the dish and went inside without saying anything. He was pointing his finger at the menu, I was pointing my finger at the dish, saying ‘Do something to it. Anything, but do something. I can't eat raw', My friends told me later that I pointed at the steak and repeatedly said just one line, ‘do something’. Later they used to tell me pointing at food, on many occasions, ‘Pranamee, do something!’ He took the steak back, not happy at all and brought it back after like 10mins. It had steam coming from it. But it looked somewhat like the previous one. I looked closely. It wasn’t fried for sure. Most probably boiled. I took a tiny bite. It was edible now, but not tasty at all. As I took more bites, I realized, he steamed the whole thing. It tasted like the inner filling of dumplings. I don’t have a pic of the end product. I realized and accepted that day that I can’t eat anything and everything.

World Map

       This was in the hostel I stayed during my visit to Heidelberg, Germany.  The hostel was pretty. It had bunk beds in the rooms and some Victorian age décor in the ceilings.  As I was talking to the people sitting in the lounge, my eyes wandered around the room. The front wall was filled up with framed pics of various travellers who stayed in the hostel. The wall in the right was adorned with huge world maps. What caught my attention was lots of colourful pins protruding from the map.  I stood up and walked towards it. Seeing my interest, the people sitting tried to explain it to me by pointing at the note written in the bottom corner. ‘Where do you come from? Take a pin and show us in the map!’ I was fascinated and picked a red pin. Instinctively, I searched for India. As I looked closely, to my surprise, even the states were mentioned.  Automatically, my eyes moved eastwards, and there it was, Assam, in black block letters adorned by a blue elongated patch of Brahmaputra. A smile escaped my lips while inserting the pin. But the smile broadened further when I saw a yellow pin already sitting there above the first A of Assam.

        A guy sitting there was kind enough to capture the beautiful memory for me.

Someone's Sunday

He saw in a cookery show the dish - mutton vindaloo. He was tempted by the way it looked - thick and spicy and also the name was so enticing, he cherished to make it one day. He browsed through many internet videos of the recipe and prepared his own version in his mind. Finally, after 5-6 months of procrastinating it due to his busy schedule, he finally made some time to cook it. He bought a kilo of mutton and the other ingredients. He knew them by heart. However, He had to visit many stores to get the red wine vinegar. Returning home, he straightaway went to the kitchen and started preparing the vindaloo masala. He mixed the masala and the mutton and left it in the fridge to marinate overnight. 

The whole night he was excited and repeatedly thought sequence wise, how he would make it. Next day, it was a Sunday, at about 11am, he started cooking. He had cooked it so many times in his mind, it didn't feel like first time cooking. He preferred to do slow cooking in a low flame instead of using a pressure cooker. After an hour of cooking, mutton were soft, the gravy thick and the colour was perfect. it was almost done. Still he decided to keep it on low flame for 5 more minutes.

Wife: why are you cooking it in the pan? Why didn't you use the cooker? It's consuming so much time and gas.

Him: it tastes better if slow cooked on a pan instead of a cooker. 

Wife: I don't think so. It will become too salty if cooked for such a long time. 

He didn't reply. Turned off the gas and emptied the mutton vindaloo in the hot case from the pan and went to take rest in his room. 

Wife: it's too thick. Add some water to it. It's too spicy. 

He didn't reply but realised that she was tasting it.

Wife: why are you sleeping? How can anyone waste your time sleeping at daytime? Anyways, are you listening to what I said? Add some water to it. 

Him: Vindaloo isn't some watery mutton curry. It's like this only. Thick, spicy. 

Wife: I also know a little  bit about cooking. I am telling it for your good. You will only like eating if you add water to it. And I am sure it is over salty. 

He got up and took out two pieces in a bowl and handed her to taste to let her know that the salt was fine. 

As soon as he turned around, she shouted, " I told you so. it's too thick and spicy. Had you listened to me and added some water. Add now also. After all what's the use of cooking if the people you are making it for doesn't like it. Such a wastage of time and gas. "

He didn't respond. He avoided any type of fight on a Sunday. 

After sometime, he went to the kitchen , turned on the burner and placed the pan above it. Emptied the entire mutton vindaloo from the hot case into the pan. Took the water jug and poured 3/4th water from it into the pan. Let it boil while he went to the other room. After about 2-3 minutes, he returned to the kitchen, put off the burner and emptied the pan into the hot case again. Closed the hot case and put it in the dining table. 

At lunch, he took a handful of mutton with rice and didn't speak a single word. He finished it fast, went to his room, locked the door and went to sleep. 

YEARNING

     It was 7pm. I was leaning against the couch staring at the tv which was switched off. I browsed through the channels a few minutes ago, but hardly could concentrate. I put on the DVD player. The DVD is still inside from yesterday night and its rolling now. I had been thinking of her the whole day today and smiling to myself. Yes, we had called each other inbetween our office hours, quickie calls, but that didnt quench the thirst nor the excitement. She had totally occupied my mind. My colleague, Raj, who sat in the adjoining cubicle caught me red handed at one instance when I was struggling with a smile.

"Rohan Sir, what's the matter? Are you blushing? Your face looks as red as a freshly picked ripe tomato from the garden". I gave him a stern look and didn't reply. It was frustrating, sitting there. I  repeatedly leaned on my chair, adjusted the seat, tried to sit straight and stare at the computer screen and tried to do some work. But no, i was very excited today. I recalled what happened yesterday and smiled to myself for the umpteenth time. It was getting so difficult for me to hide that smile and excitement from my colleagues.  

I came home early.  I called her a few minutes ago, she was on her way, boarded a cab, will be reaching in an hour.

I took a shower; put on my best pyjamas, the one she gifted me day before yesterday and a jack and Jones t-shirt. It's a navy blue pyjama with white dots uniformly placed at decent distance from each other, following a pattern. Although, very general, the only speciality of this pair of pyjamas was that she gifted it to me. It smells good. I feel good wearing it. Now a days, I love anything which has her touch in it. Also, it reminded me of what she specially said while giving it to me.  

I was lost in the wild thoughts when my phone rang again, it was her.

"hey", i could hear the voice I cherish the most in the world, but it was layered with tension.

"where are you?", i too got tensed.

"Am just at the gate, a guy is coming with me." she spoke.

pause.

"who guy?", i was irritated and confused.

*pause*  

"i am downstairs, coming. Bye" and she hung up the phone.

"hmmmm.....oh, is he by your side?" I realised I was talking to the disconnected line.

I threw the phone away. The carpet saved it from breaking. I felt betrayed. I had been waiting earnestly for this moment the whole day and she was least concerned, she had her friends and she was busy with them. I was all occupied in her thoughts the whole day and she had time for another guy. Sometimes, during instances like this, I remember the quotes said by some wise personalities, "don't give your happiness in someone else's hand, they will surely drop it", " love yourself, everyone else is taken" and similar many quotes started echoing in my head. The bottom line was, I was giving her more value than the value she gave me. I was thoroughly upset.   

The bell rang.

I took a deep breath. There's guest. I put the cushions in place and cleared the side table.

The bell rang again. Nimi was always an impatient girl by nature.

I opened the door with a straight face. There was Nimi smiling at me with her beautiful bright eyes and asking why it took me so long to open the door. I saw a boy accompanying her. I didn't answer Nimi and instead said hello to that other person. She introduced both of us.

"This is my husband, this is Ajay." I had no clue who this Ajay was. I expected a rich, spoilt corporate brat, maybe one of her colleagues but here stood a petite, dusky, thin guy who had a hunch at his back. He looked nervous. I was confused how to greet him or to be precise, what to do with him. She waited for a moment looking at both of us and then rushed to the bedroom like a thunder and shouting on the way, "Ajay, I am just coming with your thing." Nimi had this habit of befriending people of all types. Rich, poor, younger, older. She felt for everyone. Specially the less privileged class. She had a good rapo with the laundryman, gardener, plumber, watchman or vegetable, fruit vendor of the apartment and help them with money, food, this, that, medicine and what not. I call her Florence Nightingale at times. She is empathetic. She would always be in a 'may I help you' mode. I felt bad, "She could understand the need of the whole world except mine. I love her so much and she didn't even look at me when she came" , my inner voice shouted, full of angst.  

'With your thing?? what the hell is going on?' I recollected what she told last and got more and more furious. I looked at Ajay. He was standing in the same spot with his head down. I asked, "hey , who are you?" he looked at me, speechless, like a dumb! i didnt invite him inside and went to the bedroom. i was angry with Nimi, first, because she was so busy with another guy and second, because she was so busy with another guy and third,.....!

I entered the bedroom. She was standing with one foot at the stool, on her toes with the heel in the air and the other foot at the upper shelf, her hands reaching out at the top of the wardrobe shelves. i stood there silent and she was unaware i was in the room. Next, she put her other foot on the shelf, basically she was climbing the shelves, one after another and her eyes and hands on the upper shelf.

i went near her, stood just behind her, so that i could manage to hold her if she fell down. After all she was my wife and i was her better half.

i cleared my throat. i was angry with her. 

"oh, you are here......... the honey cough syrup bottle, do you know where is it? i am trying to reach out to the first aid box. Do you think its there?" She was least bothered about my anger. Ajay was more important for her.

"Ajay seems to be a very important person" i said sarcastically.

She looked at me, blank and unresponsive, as if a little child was complaining for some toys. She resumed back to her game.

By now, she was half inside the wardrobe and I prepared myself more to save her lest she fell.

Showing least attention to my sentiments, she explained, "Ajay's mother is in hospital. She has brain cancer. His father died when he was young. He is just 13. His mother had faced a lot of struggles to raise him and his two little sisters. one is married but her husband is also a drunkard and................."

"Ok, I got it. But why you need that medicine?"

"His uncle is having a bad cough; he is attending his mother in the hospital while Ajay comes to work. Now, his mother is on drugs and needs to take rest, but due to the constant cough of his uncle, she is unable to sleep. He asked for some money to buy medicine, I gave him some money and thought this medicine might help. It worked for me last time"

I looked around and saw it at the bed side table corner. I pointed it to her. Next, I collected her from the wardrobe, in my strong arms, to help her get down. By that time, my heart already had melted seeing her helping the poor and needy, but upset. We boys, as usual, take it as our inborn responsibility to even fight demons to protect our loved ones from any harm but wish they had known what we need is a little appreciation and attention from them. I decided to not speak anything to this woman who had the biggest heart and always thinking about others except me. I was still offended at heart for the 'being busy with others and not giving me any attention' part. I let loose my hands and let her slip by, as her feet touched the floor, when I felt the warm, quick, short kiss on my lips.

"You had always been there for me to fall back to..... I missed you today, the whole day, very very very much I am going all insane in love with you." she said looking into my eyes, her hands still around my neck.

My heart was beaming with joy, like that kid who was given the toy he was crying for.

"OMG, today, you know how funny it was. Whatever happened yesterday kept coming to my mind again and again, and i couldn't do a single thing. And on top of that, what you know, Maya caught me red handed, smiling. Even Roshni. It was so embarrassing and they were after me to narrate them the stories. How could I? And......Ummm, wait, let me finish with that person outside, first!" she realised she had a guest outside. Butterflies in my stomach, I was so uncomfortable. I let her loose to go although I didn't want to.

"Ok" I mumbled.

In a moment, she disappeared to the living room.

I stood there with my hands in the pockets of my blue gifted pyjamas, looking down at the floor and again, a smiled struggled through my lips. I was standing at the spot pondering over what happened just now and what was I thinking, when, all of a sudden, I was pushed to the wall and she was all over me, kissing. It went on for a minute or so. Giving and taking and lust and love and what not. She rushed back again, saying with the naughtiest smile, "Will be right back". I couldn't even see her; I just felt the after effects of the sensations running through my body. I felt I was the luckiest man on earth at that moment. I sat on the bed and took a deep breath. I looked up. I heard her shouting outside, "a-j-a-y". I saw my reflection in the mirror and saw the smile, which was adorning my lips since morning today. I freed it this time. It escaped out by the right side of my lips perhaps because I saw a tilted smile in the mirror and adorned with that smile, I looked exactly like a red ripe tomato freshly picked from the garden. I checked myself out yesterday night also, in the same mirror but I looked happier today. Hope I look the happiest tonight. Fingers crossed!

"R-o-h-a-n...............R-o-h-a-n", I heard my wife shouting for me.  I rushed to the living room.

"What??" I asked.

"Ajay is not here." she told, then paused for a second and rushed out towards the balcony.

"Where will he go?" I ran out of the door, to the stairs, looked down from the balcony towards the lane leading to the main exit. I shouted at the watchman of our wing from the balcony who sat at the ground floor near the stilt parking. I could hear no reply.

Nimi, holding her bottle of cough syrup, leaning against the glass railings of the balcony,  shouting even harder for the watchman. We stayed in the second floor. When there was no reply, she looked at me and I looked at her.

"What's happening?" I knew not what else to ask her.

"Exactly, what happened?" that was her reply to my question. Suddenly, she rushed inside as if she had got a clue. I followed her.

"Just check, if anything has got stolen." she told.

It's been only a few days we were married. All the stuffs were brand new.

"He could steal also?" I questioned, while looking around " Nimi, first of all, would you tell me, for God's sake, who was he? Who the hell was he?"

"He was the cab driver of the morning" she shouted, "Today - morning - while going to office - remember?" she said with many pauses, word by word, to remind me that Ajay was the driver of the cab we hired today morning to our respective offices. When I reacted in the affirmative but still doubtful, she resumed, "While returning back from office, at the apartment entrance gate, he stopped me and introduced me, told his entire story. And hence I bought him home and...."

I stared at her for some time, "but why did he vanish?"

 "I have no idea." she said, pulling in and out all the drawers of the TV console to check.  The watchman arrived to enquire why he was called for. I asked if he had seen a petite young fellow leaving the apartments. Next there was a long descriptive conversation between Nimi and the watchman, about how the boy looked. When I realised that the conversation had gone beyond being simply futile, I interrupted and shouted, "have you or haven't you seen any boy going out of our wing?"

"No, I was in the bathroom, when you called for me" the old watchman with tired eyes and trembling hands said. He also had a hunch at his back. He was in his late 80s. I asked him, with due respect, to leave.

"What do you think, what had just happened?" Nimi asked me with awe, closing the main door,  after the watchman left and  again pulled the console drawer.  

"Wait a minute, wait-a- minute", I saw, just behind Nimi, the play station's light blinking, I stoop down and checked, "the dvd isn't here" I looked at Nimi.

She stopped by my side, her hand on my shoulder, balancing her body on her toes while the heels on air again, somehow balancing herself in that position and with wide eyes looking at the play station, shouted "the dvd isn't here"

And we both looked at each other and said in chorus, "the dvd............isnt here", understanding for the third time.

It was Nimi who busted out laughing first, I tried holding onto it, as the matter was, in fact dangerous, but couldn't anymore and joined her. Soon we both were in rofl position, literally.

Generally, when we board a cab, which is so common now a days, we always forget that there is a human being sitting at the driver's seat who can hear us, see us and understand what we are speaking, although he behaves like a machine, doesn't speak a word while driving, except one time while starting the trip and next when we reach our destination and he gives us the bill of the trip. We got our lesson to keep that in mind and never speak about our personal details specially bedroom details in future when going in a cab. We hid it from our closest friends but discussed out loud in the cab, as if it was our bedroom. 

Traveller

     When I went to Hampi*, I met a family in one of the tourist attractions, in a monument. They were from Canada. Husband wife and two little daughters, one aged around 7 and another around 5. Pretty girls. What caught our attention was the man sitting and drawing the monument in his note book and he was really good. I am inclined towards anything artistic, so I went near him and looked at his drawing closely. I couldn’t help complimenting him. He was really good. 
He showed me the other drawings he made. He was a pro at sketching.
I asked if he was an artist or in a profession related to art. He smiled and said he was a maths teacher. Drawing is just a hobby. He further added, “we are on a vacation visiting Asia and I am trying to capture the place in my drawings.” He pointed at his girls and wife who were around. 
And as I looked again in his sketch book, I could see, he had covered all the landmarks of Asia. 
I grew curious. I asked the duration of his vacation. He said they had been in Asia since a month. They have been to Singapore, Thailand, Bangkok, and now in India. They will stay in India for a month and then return. I was amazed. I asked how did he managed to plan such a long vacation with his family.What about his job. He said in his country, they are permitted to take such long leave for travelling. Comparing with leaves we are granted in India, I was amazed. 
His elder daughter was standing near us, trying to understand our conversation . I asked about their schools. I thought they might had missed school for his trip. His father answered, “oh no, they don’t go to school. We home school them. And this trip, the places , the culture, the people , the experiences, this is education, can these be taught in a school?”
He smiled and resumed his sketching.

*Hampi : a temple town in India, recognised as a UNESCO world heritage site.

images below are two sketches of the person mentioned. I couldnt click a picture  of the family.

PATTERN #1

Well, its something philosophical but true.

We humans, we evolve. The things we practice now in general are far different from what our great great fore fathers' generation practised. This is called evolution.

Now, the things we believe or practice, today, can be categorised. They follow a pattern. And sorry to say, people follow it like donkeys, no brains are involved here. They fight, rebel, shout without using much brain as to what they are shouting about.

I will give an example here, to make you understand.

Feminism. Its quite in now a days. Standing for your right. And women are fighting, shouting, rebeling for it. I have heard may women saying, "I am not the kind of woman to stay at home and make rotis. No one can supress me like this. I am not born to do that. I will also go out and work like a man."

So, have anyone thought over it how this concept originated and why?

We have seen, heard , in history books, that the man of the house go out and work to earn the money to run the household and the woman manages the house, cooks, take care of the children. Why did it happen? Has anyone thought about it?

It was because, in early days, when  people started to live in groups, division of work started . man are stronger tha woman physically. So the main aim of people was to eat inorder to survive.Man being stronger physically than women, were assigned to hunt animals for food, cut trees to get wood for fire, or other chores that involved physical strength. Women, on the other hand, are delicate but strong emotionally. They have patience. They are caring, loving.

So, they stayed at home and cooked with care, took care of the old ones and the infants.  And so according to the capabilities, the work were assigned. And they had a peaceful household.

But throughout the years, the concept continued but the outlook changed.

Woman stays at home and cooks and take care of the household was considered inferior and men, going out to earn money to run the household was considered superior.  

And so, women were held as captive inside home and men could go around freely. women became dependent on men. If the men wont earn the women cant cook and hence the household cant run.

Women started rebeling. They fought to come out of house and be free and independent  like men.

Women started working and earning just like men, equal. But women had to take care of the household too, and a man only helps her. Because the basic capabilities, expertise will always remain the same. men will always be better in physical work and woman will always be better in taking care of the kid or an ailing old man at home. And even of  a man is equally capable of doing all the women's stuff, the male ego will always stop him. Staying at home and doing a woman's work is so degrading for a man in the eyes of the society.  This is such a huge concept that even the women of the house refuse their man to do so.

And society is a group of people that always is curious about you and hates you when you are happy and loves you when you are unhappy, because then you are one of them. If you are different, you cannot fit into a society. You can never please a society. They will always find some faults in you and force you to be unhappy. And being a social animal, we humans, cant live without  society and become one of them.  It needs lots and lots of self confidence and bravery to stand against the society and live on your own terms.

And regarding feminism, and woman rights and all stuff, if there is a mutual understanding between the man and the woman of the house, I dont feel they have to come out to the streets and fight for their rights. man and woman are both equal , nobody is superior. we just have different anatomy and hence capabilities. And, when a man and a woman comes together and decides to start a family, right there, they should clear out their responsibilities and involve nobody else.   21 and 18 is not only eligibility for sex, but to be adults, to be matured, to take responsibilities of your new life together. And if you dont have an idea, then wait till you have.

I am amazed when woman complains that they had to sacrifice their job because of the kid. Its so common. "Its a curse for us woman. Always we had to sacrifice our job for the baby. The man of the house never have to. " I wonder, how they can call looking after their newborn baby a curse. Did anyone force them to have the baby. If she wanted to work, then she shouldnt have given birth to the baby.  The couple should have discussed earlier before giving birth to the baby, who would look after the kid after birth, if the woman is ready to leave her job or still wants to work.

 So, basically, its a PATTERN. people follow it. It has been happening and people are followign the herd like donkeys without using their brain. I sometimes feel, people are afraid to think outside the comfort zone. They feel safe following the herd .  Its like repeating an act, they exactly know what will happen and when they have to complain or when they will sacrifice. They know what will be the outcome. They just repeat the whole thing again. Yes, they are comfortable repeating what they know, even if its self destructing, than using their brain and doing something out of the box. And yeah, the society is always there to console you, give you a shoulder to cry, when you are unhappy, remember that.

"pidhiyon se yahin chalti aa rahi hai beti, hamesha hamein hi sacrifice karni padti hai, yahi iss duniya ki dastoor hai" meaning, 'welcome to the society' evil grin. 

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