Yesterday, Once more

One minute there was appreciative laughter in the room -  Karan Johar , in his inimitable style, had just uttered a witticism, which had us, if not exactly rolling in the aisles,  certainly grinning from ear to ear. A popular awards function was being telecast and we were sitting in a relaxed mode, ready to be entertained. There was laughter and movement and plenty of inconsequential talk and banter.

The next minute there was  complete silence. And stillness. SRK was just coming to the end of a sentence, " and so ,to celebrate 100 years of Indian Cinema  , today we will honor those who have made it so special...". The cameras  had by now zoomed in relentlessly  on those who had to be honored - on Dilip Saab and Saira Banu; on   Waheeda Rehman ;  Rajesh Khanna; Zeenat Aman; Vyjayantimala; Vinod Khanna, Shabana Azmi;  Manoj Kumar; Asha Parekh; Jaya Bachchan and   Hema Malini.  Their  faces were all sombre , ( barring maybe Shabana , Hema Malini and a giggly Jaya Bachchan )    the  impassiveness on the faces of the thespians - actors  famous for giving Indian Cinema a rich repertoire of emotions , saying more than any words could have.. And they all looked so sombre !  I think this was when  I started praying silently-  ,'please God, don't let them be called on stage ; please don't let the world see them struggling to walk and  grappling with words ."  But this is exactly what happened.  We looked on unbelievingly as , one by one, the actors were called on stage - with their most famous songs playing in the background. And so  a matronly Zeenat Aman, sorry Zeenie baby, who had been an iconic figure for the disenfranchised youth of her generation , walked on stage with '  Dum Maro Dum and Laila O laila...' playing ;  Waheeda Rehman  came onstage with  'Aaj phir jeene ki tamanna hai, aaj phir marne ka irada hai...'  ; Manoj Kumar came, supported on both sides , to the tune of ' Mere Desh Ki Dharti Sona ugle...  '  The parade continued till the stage was crowded - till no one was left to be called , and even Dilip Kumar - lost in a world of his own- had been brought up- so that the world could see him , and all of them, and remember them - not as we would have liked to remember them : young and dynamic but old and helpless.  And so now when Dum Maro Dum  plays anywhere  images of  a slim  and sexy Zeenat Aman will come but they will be pushed firmly into the never never land by newer , recent ,images.

And then the tears came - not because we had decided to honor Indian Cinemas rare stars at a stage in their  life when , for most of them, it had stopped mattering, but because of the remarkable spunk and courage they showed.  And so when Manoj  'Bharat' Kumar was asked to speak  he  said  ," hai preet jahan ki reet sada… Bharat ka rahne waala hoon ....' showing why his movies had run to packed houses in an India gripped by post Independence fervour ; Rajesh Khanna, playing to the galleries still , bespoke one of life's greatest truths when he said ,' koi bhi cheez duniya main rahti nahi,  aaj main hoon jahan kal koi aur tha .. aaj main hoon jahan kal koi aur tha. Ye bhi ek daur hai woh bhi ek  daur tha...'

I had forgotten that I was not alone. I think we all had.  It was left to the daughter to bring levity back into the room.  Looking accusingly at her father she said  with loving tenderness to me ," I didn't know you had a serious crush on Rajesh Khanna. Trust dad to spoil your love life". And  then the husband came to me and said, '' Pushpa, I hate tears".

It was just another award show that ended.  The original showmen and women will always remain.

.

Phrase of the day - Cock a Snook

    Cock a Snook

  ( British old fashioned)

Part of Speech : Noun
Origin :  mainly unknown (There’s an example known from 1791, but the phrase did not become widely recorded until the last years of the nineteenth century).

Meaning : 1) A gesture of derision or defiance.

2 ) to show that you do not respect something or someone by doing something that insults them / it.

 

Trivia :The gesture of derision it encapsulates is that of putting one’s thumb to one’s nose and extending the fingers. . .As a gesture, it doesn’t really mean anything, but it does convey utter contempt .

Usage : That all the accused in the CWG  scam and the 2G scam are out , whether on bail or unconditionally , is a perfect example of cocking a snook at the ideal of Justice as enshrined in our constitution. .

Vicarious pleasure

This year , again, April had been a particularly busy month and what with starting work early and finishing late my walk/exercise regime had gone for a toss. With May promising to be a lighter month I vowed to myself that the neglected walks would be resumed . And so the morning saw me all prepped up and togged up in my keds and T. The route I normally follow is a circuitous one, literally taking me all around our colony. The newspaper man was on his round and so was the milk man ; moms and ayahs were dropping the lil ones to the bus stops . It was a pleasant morning , belying  the fact that we were in the middle of the famed Indian summer. Turning left , on the last leg of the walk, I stopped in my tracks. The house was a beauty - it was exactly what I had been secretly dreaming of for the last one year or so. Propelled by some invisible hand I entered the park adjoining the house and sat down on a bench . My seat gave me a ring side view of the house. It was in the finishing stages- I could make out that the painting  of walls and polishing of doors and windows was in progress. My gaze settled on a room which was clearly going to be the formal sitting room . It was big, with french windows and Burma teak doors -It was going to be a room meant for entertaining and music. From somewhere I heard the tinkle of glass and laughter. Through a haze I saw the lady of the house  welcoming  her guests. A door opened on the landing of the first floor-a pretty ,young girl came gracefully down the steps. Another door opened further down the landing and a happy teenager came bounding out. He playfully tugged his sister's hair and then ,laughing, ran down the wide staircase. The hors d'oeuvres were being circulated. Such a house had to have a piano, ofcourse. The tune of 'play it again' wafted through the windows. The children's father came out from a room which seemed to be  the library- it had books lined from floor to ceiling.  Truly a house of dreams- a dream house.

Smiling , I got up from the bench. I don't know when my dream house will be mine but yes, that house next to the park had given me a lot of pleasure- even if  I had lived those ten minutes vicarously and derived vicarous pleasure.

But then don't most of us most of the times ?  -live vicariously that is!

Word of the day -schadenfreude

schadenfreude

Pronunciation  :SHOD-n-froy-duh\  scha·den·freu·de

Part of speech  : noun: often capitalized 

 Meaning :  A malicious satisfaction obtained from the misfortunes of others.  ; enjoyment obtained from the troubles of others

Origin of SCHADENFREUDE -German(  from Schaden damage + Freude joy )

First Known Use: 1895

 

Usage :  Finance Minister, Pranab da,  felt  schadenfreude at  Home Minister, Chidambaran's,  discomfiture in  Parliament.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An evening of Soul music

It was 'the tree' that held centrestage that evening. Everything else dipped away into the horizon along with  the setting sun. Want me to describe 'the tree'? I have a better idea. Close your eyes for a minute.  Now go back many centuries - infact to the time of the Buddha. Remember, he is the one who attained enlightenment while meditating under a tree. Build a picture of Buddha's tree. Yes, it must have been huge, with a  gnarled  trunk and branches sprawling lazily in all directions ; It must  also have had  magical powers to hypnotize Buddha into choosing it over the other trees. Carrying on, picture lanterns hanging from the low branches  of the tree and marigold flowers linked to one another to form many  chains .All around is darkness. The only light is from the lanterns and from a crescent moon. And then one hears the chant : Buddham saraṇaṃ gacchāmi, Dhammaṃ saraṇaṃ gacchāmi.Saṅghaṃ saraṇaṃ gacchāmi.(To the Buddha for refuge I go ,To the Dharma for refuge I go, To the Sangha for refuge I go) . The chant is repeated but now it is louder and more insistent . Many other voices join in - 'Buddham sharnam gacchami, sangham sharnam....' .Is that my mouth moving ? my lips forming the words ? Startled I open my eyes . The first thing they fall on is 'the tree' - as beautiful and magical now as it must have been centuries back. But it is not the Buddha sitting under it but a young group of musicians belting out buddhist chants. My eyes wander - open wider. In the stillness of the night, with only the lit lamps and the moon, are sitting hundreds of men and women, listening in rapt attention to the chant, their heads moving in tune with the throbbing drums . There is no other sound . More than five hundred people silently listening to Buddha's words....

And then comes a man in a white kurta pyjama. He is carrying a 'jhola' - just what Kabir may have woven on his loom. Hark!  is that Kabir's  poem he is singing ? 'Nirbhay Nirgun  Re Gaunga...'

(Fearlessly I Will Sing the Attributes of the One without Attributes

Using the Base Lotus as the Steady Seat
I Will Make the Wind Rise in Reverse
Steadying the Mind's Attachments
I Will Unify the Five Elements
Ingila, Pingala and Sukhman are the Channels
I Will Bathe at the Confluence of the Three Rivers
The Five and Twenty Five I Will Master by my Wish
And String them Together by One Common Thread
At the Summit of Aloneness the Un-struck Anahad Sound Reverberates
I Will Play the Thirty-Six Different Symphonies
Says Kabir Listen Oh Practicing Aspirant
I Will Wave the Flag of Victory) 

And 'the tree' ? the tree had changed from being Buddha's source of enlightenment  to  being Kabir's expression of angst and cynicism  at the duplicity and guile of the keepers of the world. Had I ever really heard Kabir so raptfully as on that evening of the crescent moon and the lanterns and the light coming from the orange of the marigolds? No . Had I ever understood how Buddha must have felt when he saw the' light' ? No.

But that evening with the sun dipping into the horizon and hundreds of people sitting silently , listening to music for the soul, I sort of began to also feel ...and see....and hear.

It all began with the tree...

Tea party in the park

The sandwiches were nice -  sinfully well buttered , with a hint of mint . I had just taken my first bite when aunty B sidled up and whispered in my left ear if  one had heard of the robbery at number 148. One had but in the process of nodding yes ( remember the buttery bite in the mouth !)  landed up shaking a no . The next ten minutes were devoted to listening to the 'inside' story of the big heist.  It took so much time because the Chopras from # 24 and the Aggarwals from # 40 and the... had also joined in and there seemed to be no dearth of 'inside' information. The story had reached a very interesting juncture - was it an 'inside ' ( not to be confused with the earlier 'inside') job or was it an 'outside' job. Just to keep the facts straight,  Mrs. C felt  it  was-  " it always is"  as opposed to Mrs A who gave mysterious looks and kept muttering something about " one of these days"-  when  the potato fingers were  served ( with green chutney and ketchup). All the inside and outside talk had left everyone hungry and the fries were consumed with great gusto. The colony park had nicely filled up and a lot of time was spent in throwing a 'hello' here and a 'namastey' there. The group in front was discussing whether Sehwag was an 'is' or a 'has been' and the group at the back ( mostly made up of first time voters) was making a programme for the coming sunday. The group I was now sitting with was exchanging notes on tutors and maids and the absolute dearth of good and dependable tailors.

By now tea and coffee had been  served and  bursts of laughter mingled with the clink of cutlery and the well bred voices of the bridge players. S ( from 123)  was regaling us with some juicy 'khabar' when  the harsh  notes of a loudspeaker intruded the party in the park. Everyone stopped talking and eating and laughing. The loudspeaker seemed to be coming nearer and nearer. Puzzled glances were exchanged - a loudspeaker inside the colony'?  A white car , fitted with the loudspeaker, screeched to a halt. This was followed by many more white cars which all screeched to a halt.  Doors burst open and  disgorged a sea of white kurta pyjamas .

 I looked with approval at the man in front. He  was just so humble. He had folded his hands even before entering the park. Most of the kurta pyjamas also had folded hands. Just then  a man with a very hoarse voice shouted ( hoarsely) " Jeete ka bhai jeete ga; raju bhai jeete ga'. 

We all agreed later on that it was very unfortunate for Raju bhai that the park emptied within five minutes of his arrival. After all it wasn't his fault that he was two hours late ;  or that he did not apologize for keeping everyone waiting- after all  the junta should learn to be patient  ; or that he
had no answer to old Mr K's question about where he had been these last five years  !

I dunno if Raju bhai got the feel and hang of things the same way that those present did - that the party was well and truly over-   both inside and outside the park.

Hare Kebabs

 Whenever there is a lunch/dinner at home the most difficult part is deciding on the appetizer/s.  I agonize over the fact that my repertoire of 'starters' is so limited and that everything has been done to death ! And so it was with the dinner I had recently. When it came to deciding on what to make I was left mulling again on dip with crackers and my patent mini cutlets.That is untill I had this brainwave of making Hare kebabs. My neighbour had told me her recipe of kebabs but when she was doing so I had been listening with only half a ear and so remembered only half the recipe. However small things like knowing only half a recipe have never really fazed me and since  I felt that I absolutely had to make kebabs and that nothing else would do so I went ahead and made them. And I must admit they came out looking and tasting good. 

Here is the recipe ( full and not half! )


Will make about 15-20 mini kebabs


Ingredients


1 cup chana dal
1/2 kg spinach
1 tsp garlic paste ( I had omitted it)
1tsp ginger paste
Juice of 1 lemon
1/2 tsp black pepper powder
2 tablespoon corn flour
1 bread slice
1 green chilli- very finely chopped
salt to taste
oil for deep/shallow frying


Method


1.Wash and soak the chana dal for 3-4 hours. Drain the water and grind in mixer to make a paste.
2. Was the spinach well. Chop coarsely. Steam for 2-3 minutes. Grind in mixer.
3. Take a non stick pan. Put about 1 tablespoon oil in it .Add the dal and roast till all the water evaporates. Remove and keep aside.
4.In the pan put the spinach and without covering cook so that all the water evaporates and it becomes dry. Close the burner.
5.To the spinach add the dal , cornflour, bread, salt, garlic and ginger paste, pepper powder, green chilli, lemon juice. Mix well.
6. Lightly grease palms and shape into small kebabs.
7. Shallow fry or deep fry.
Serve hot  with green chutney