That title is supposed to be sung to the tune of 'Choli ke peeche kya hai' from Khalnayak. Nevermind.
So. The point of this blog post is basically to think aloud about all the nice things I've learnt to cook. My opinion and idea of cooking has changed over years. Strangely enough, I used to be a better cook when I was small (about 12 yrs, shall we say?) when I used to help my mom around in then kitchen. Back then, with my sister doing medicine and all, it was mainly to gain mileage with my mom- I could always yap that I was the better cook 'despite being a boy'. Then, of course, she got better. Much better. Then, occupied with my own tribulations in life, I gave it a miss, and became what you can safely call a dunce at cooking. Of course, things have now changed. I had to learn cooking or eat food cooked by people who thought salt was spicy (it's not bad, you know, pasta and rösti and älplermaggronnen, but like the old adage, what's life without some spice?). Bottomline: I've learnt to cook. Quite well. (Don't ask me about times of experimentation, when, many a day, I've had to consume food that would not qualify even for a best-before date.) I'm quite proud of this whole cooking thing, you know. It's experimenting at its best. I've always considered myself good at hands on experimenting (I better be, or else I'll have made a bad career choice), and cooking is, as a pop-sci program would put it, something you can find in your kitchen. I'm crazy, because I often find myself wondering what really happens to food when you put it on heat and mix and stir and all that. Of course, it's not an exact science, and that's what makes it brilliant. I wish I could produce some photo-evidence of all my cooking exploits, but I'm not just a cook, you see. I'm also a glutton. I don't really have the patience to take pictures of my food when it is lying invitingly on my plate. This weekend, I'm making Gasagase Payasa. That's poppy seed pudding. Anyone who can smell it can hop in.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
A New Way to Tackle Global Warming
I just thought this up. I think the plan is genius in its simplicity. It's the easiest plan conceivable, not just because it needs no money or effort, but simply because it IS lack of effort. This is my idea in its brilliant glory: Stop dieting, eat a lot, sleep a lot, stay lazy, and grow fat. Still wondering why? Let me elaborate:
1. When you eat more than necessary, you store most of the energy in your body as fat. If you go on a diet, you burn all that fat, and in doing so, introduce unnecessary heat into the atmosphere, which would have otherwise been safely been assimilated into the ground when you died. (remember, the byproducts of fat burning are CO2, water and heat). This, of course, assumes that most of humanity is buried when dead, which is the case anyway.
2. When you're fat, you tend to get lazy, and hence move around lesser. Remember, getting from A to B is one of the biggest supposed sources of global warming.
3. By eating more food (especially meat-eaters) you're killing the cows which are responsible for global warming.
4. When you're fat, you don't live as long, owing to the various health risks associated with obesity. Which means you're contributing lesser carbon dioxide to the atmosphere, and at the same time, help to fix more carbon back to the ground (since you carry more carbon back to the ground when you die- this follows as a corollary of point 1)
5. Fat people offer lesser surface area per kilogram of area from which heat can escape. Think of it this way: one person weighing 100 kg will have lesser skin on him/her than two people weighing 50 kg, which implies lesser heat loss into the atmosphere.
6. This also makes millions of life simpler, gives them hope that obesity can be cool one day. At the very least, they can claim to have helped the planet, if not anyone else, in their lazy good-for-nothing lives. It will also lend an air of credibility to the arguments of middle-aged fat women pouring scorn over their page-3 bulimic anorexic counterparts.
Like I said, the plan is mindbogglingly simple. Easily the greatest idea since Relativity. And what's more, I'm writing it only a few miles away from where Einstein had his epiphany. I'm experiencing one right now. This is it. Any takers?
1. When you eat more than necessary, you store most of the energy in your body as fat. If you go on a diet, you burn all that fat, and in doing so, introduce unnecessary heat into the atmosphere, which would have otherwise been safely been assimilated into the ground when you died. (remember, the byproducts of fat burning are CO2, water and heat). This, of course, assumes that most of humanity is buried when dead, which is the case anyway.
2. When you're fat, you tend to get lazy, and hence move around lesser. Remember, getting from A to B is one of the biggest supposed sources of global warming.
3. By eating more food (especially meat-eaters) you're killing the cows which are responsible for global warming.
4. When you're fat, you don't live as long, owing to the various health risks associated with obesity. Which means you're contributing lesser carbon dioxide to the atmosphere, and at the same time, help to fix more carbon back to the ground (since you carry more carbon back to the ground when you die- this follows as a corollary of point 1)
5. Fat people offer lesser surface area per kilogram of area from which heat can escape. Think of it this way: one person weighing 100 kg will have lesser skin on him/her than two people weighing 50 kg, which implies lesser heat loss into the atmosphere.
6. This also makes millions of life simpler, gives them hope that obesity can be cool one day. At the very least, they can claim to have helped the planet, if not anyone else, in their lazy good-for-nothing lives. It will also lend an air of credibility to the arguments of middle-aged fat women pouring scorn over their page-3 bulimic anorexic counterparts.
Like I said, the plan is mindbogglingly simple. Easily the greatest idea since Relativity. And what's more, I'm writing it only a few miles away from where Einstein had his epiphany. I'm experiencing one right now. This is it. Any takers?
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Of Adults, Children and Metaphors.
I have to warn you, this is a rant.
I have always wondered how, when as a kid, you have some anomaly, you are always convinced that it would be alright once you're old enough. If you had a premature puberty, you would be convinced that in a few years, it would all be okay. If you had premature gray-hair, (like I did) you'd think, in twenty years what difference would gray hair make. For me, this sort of underscores the point of this post- that humans grow uglier as they grow old. And not just physically.
When you're born as a wrinkly two-foot piece of meat with a hose pipe in your belly, you're probably ugly (not to your mom, of course). But then, so is an uncut diamond. unlike a simple diamond, though, it takes years to shape a human, to cut it to perfection. The world has a funny way of cutting diamonds, and it is as far from perfect as perfect can be. When you're born, you're beautiful. No matter what your shortcomings, you're still beautiful. Your Conscience does not even know it exists, which is, in my humble opinion, the best state of being for Conscience. You are completely at peace with yourself, and care the least for the cares of the world. That's why you're beautiful.
As they grow up, in Salman Rushdie's words, children become the vessels into which adults pour their poison. WarhatredgreedI'm-better-than-you-because-you're-lowborn. Divisions begin to appear, as like chinks made by an unskilled diamond-cutter. Children don't lose their innocence... It is murdered, beaten to death by the myriad misgivings and prejudices of adults around them. Adults are acting out a play rehearsed a million times in history, a play whose writers are forgotten in time.
One could always say, in the spirit of the Lord of the flies, that a natural order will always emerge, no matter the influence of the society. After all, envy, cupidity, anger and lust are human emotions, and children are no exception. Yes, and this is why a perfect diamond cutter is needed. One who can cut out the rough edges these emotions create. Parents are expected to burden this superhuman task, but then, parents are only humans, fallible, gullible, meek and prone to err. They have already been cut and ground into rough, unshaped or misshapen diamonds with their own noses to the grindstone.
I'm now tired, and will stop. My own own future is clouded with dirt, and it bothers me that my only aim in life now is to clean out that dirt. If you're depressed, don't blame yourself. After all, it was Pandora's fault. But also remember that the last thing that came out of that box, was hope.
I have always wondered how, when as a kid, you have some anomaly, you are always convinced that it would be alright once you're old enough. If you had a premature puberty, you would be convinced that in a few years, it would all be okay. If you had premature gray-hair, (like I did) you'd think, in twenty years what difference would gray hair make. For me, this sort of underscores the point of this post- that humans grow uglier as they grow old. And not just physically.
When you're born as a wrinkly two-foot piece of meat with a hose pipe in your belly, you're probably ugly (not to your mom, of course). But then, so is an uncut diamond. unlike a simple diamond, though, it takes years to shape a human, to cut it to perfection. The world has a funny way of cutting diamonds, and it is as far from perfect as perfect can be. When you're born, you're beautiful. No matter what your shortcomings, you're still beautiful. Your Conscience does not even know it exists, which is, in my humble opinion, the best state of being for Conscience. You are completely at peace with yourself, and care the least for the cares of the world. That's why you're beautiful.
As they grow up, in Salman Rushdie's words, children become the vessels into which adults pour their poison. WarhatredgreedI'm-better-than-you-because-you're-lowborn. Divisions begin to appear, as like chinks made by an unskilled diamond-cutter. Children don't lose their innocence... It is murdered, beaten to death by the myriad misgivings and prejudices of adults around them. Adults are acting out a play rehearsed a million times in history, a play whose writers are forgotten in time.
One could always say, in the spirit of the Lord of the flies, that a natural order will always emerge, no matter the influence of the society. After all, envy, cupidity, anger and lust are human emotions, and children are no exception. Yes, and this is why a perfect diamond cutter is needed. One who can cut out the rough edges these emotions create. Parents are expected to burden this superhuman task, but then, parents are only humans, fallible, gullible, meek and prone to err. They have already been cut and ground into rough, unshaped or misshapen diamonds with their own noses to the grindstone.
I'm now tired, and will stop. My own own future is clouded with dirt, and it bothers me that my only aim in life now is to clean out that dirt. If you're depressed, don't blame yourself. After all, it was Pandora's fault. But also remember that the last thing that came out of that box, was hope.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Of Countries, Frost and Missing Fountains.
Last Monday, I travelled to Geneva. For a newcomer, Geneva is the city of diplomacy and international relations. It was an independent republic for a long time, before it finally decided to join the Swiss Confederacy. It is so close to France that it is almost France, and behaves like it too.
So then, We went to Geneva. I live about a half-hour train ride away from Zurich, so the first thing to do was to get to the Zurich train station, the Hauptbahnhof. And it would take is about 3 hours to get to Geneva from there, which meant that we had to leave as early in the morning as possible, and that in turn would mean missing a good three hours sleep.
Right, so we wake up at 5 in the morning, and leave at 5.46, so we can catch the train at 6.34 (sorry for funny timings, but that's how it is, in Switzerland). And so we got on board a nice and cozy, not-so-crowded train where we could have a few seats for ourselves. The sun wouldn't rise till 8, so we slept. For an hour, everything went smooth, after which we saw the train slowing down to make a scheduled stop at Bern, when we heard the announcement: 'Ladies and Gentlemen, due to a collision with three horses on the way, we regret to announce that this train will return to Zurich after reaching Bern. Passengers travelling to Fribourg may take a connection at blah blah, to Neuchatel at blah blah, and those travelling to Lausanne and Geneva are requested to take the connection to Biel/Bienne at 8.04 where another connection awaits you to Geneva. Right. So we get down at Berne, where the temperature, I can swear, was atleast -100 C! So we wait there, shivering in the cold, when an already crowded train glides in at the wrong platform. So we run, and manage to get into the train, only to find out that it's as crowded as a Mumbai local train at peak hour (well that's exaggerating, but it wasn't far from that). We finally got off at Biel/Bienne, and got into a better looking, but seemingly full train, where we finally found decent seats and settled down.
We then reach Geneva, and are all excited and take the first tram to the UN office. This was an awesome experience- we got a guided tour, bought some souvenirs, and had fun like any other tourist. Next on the agenda was the Jet d'Eau, which is supposed to be a round-the-year attraction for tourists, what with it being the poster-boy of it's tourism and all. So we decide to walk along the lake, get to the point where it should have been- Surprise Surprise. It's not there. The temperature's -5 degrees, so they've turned it off so that the droplets from the fountain do not form ice on the pavements.
At that time, we were, understandably, bloody pissed off. We obviously had a plan-B: Go to the Telepherique du Saleve, an alpine ridge just outside Geneva which affords a brilliant view of the surroundings. This, we soon realised, was flawed- one phone call to the office of the cable train told us that it was closed as well. Some luck we were having!
So we're stuck, at about 3 PM, with nothing to do but see the city in the bloody cold. So we walk around aimlessly for a bit, see all the nice places, and then board a boat. We get to the destination, which turns out to be just one stop away, and we're still sitting there, drawing stares. The driver waits, then realises we wouldn't get down, and starts back, and we get down at the same place where we started.
Then, we go into a nice looking cafe, buy ice cream and later, a cuckoo clock at a souvenir shop (that completes the touristy list of things we did). but we still have to kill time till 7 PM, you see. We have this Gleis-7 card which allows travel throughout Switzerland for free after 7 PM. so we go back, take a random bus, and do the same routine- half an hour to the destination, and half an hour back.
Then, we get back, roam around some more and finally get to the station, where we find out that our train is late by half an hour. There are a few more annoying delays and when we get home, it's 12 in the night. some day, eh?
My suggestion: Never, ever go to Geneva in peak winter. Never.
So then, We went to Geneva. I live about a half-hour train ride away from Zurich, so the first thing to do was to get to the Zurich train station, the Hauptbahnhof. And it would take is about 3 hours to get to Geneva from there, which meant that we had to leave as early in the morning as possible, and that in turn would mean missing a good three hours sleep.
Right, so we wake up at 5 in the morning, and leave at 5.46, so we can catch the train at 6.34 (sorry for funny timings, but that's how it is, in Switzerland). And so we got on board a nice and cozy, not-so-crowded train where we could have a few seats for ourselves. The sun wouldn't rise till 8, so we slept. For an hour, everything went smooth, after which we saw the train slowing down to make a scheduled stop at Bern, when we heard the announcement: 'Ladies and Gentlemen, due to a collision with three horses on the way, we regret to announce that this train will return to Zurich after reaching Bern. Passengers travelling to Fribourg may take a connection at blah blah, to Neuchatel at blah blah, and those travelling to Lausanne and Geneva are requested to take the connection to Biel/Bienne at 8.04 where another connection awaits you to Geneva. Right. So we get down at Berne, where the temperature, I can swear, was atleast -100 C! So we wait there, shivering in the cold, when an already crowded train glides in at the wrong platform. So we run, and manage to get into the train, only to find out that it's as crowded as a Mumbai local train at peak hour (well that's exaggerating, but it wasn't far from that). We finally got off at Biel/Bienne, and got into a better looking, but seemingly full train, where we finally found decent seats and settled down.
We then reach Geneva, and are all excited and take the first tram to the UN office. This was an awesome experience- we got a guided tour, bought some souvenirs, and had fun like any other tourist. Next on the agenda was the Jet d'Eau, which is supposed to be a round-the-year attraction for tourists, what with it being the poster-boy of it's tourism and all. So we decide to walk along the lake, get to the point where it should have been- Surprise Surprise. It's not there. The temperature's -5 degrees, so they've turned it off so that the droplets from the fountain do not form ice on the pavements.
At that time, we were, understandably, bloody pissed off. We obviously had a plan-B: Go to the Telepherique du Saleve, an alpine ridge just outside Geneva which affords a brilliant view of the surroundings. This, we soon realised, was flawed- one phone call to the office of the cable train told us that it was closed as well. Some luck we were having!
So we're stuck, at about 3 PM, with nothing to do but see the city in the bloody cold. So we walk around aimlessly for a bit, see all the nice places, and then board a boat. We get to the destination, which turns out to be just one stop away, and we're still sitting there, drawing stares. The driver waits, then realises we wouldn't get down, and starts back, and we get down at the same place where we started.
Then, we go into a nice looking cafe, buy ice cream and later, a cuckoo clock at a souvenir shop (that completes the touristy list of things we did). but we still have to kill time till 7 PM, you see. We have this Gleis-7 card which allows travel throughout Switzerland for free after 7 PM. so we go back, take a random bus, and do the same routine- half an hour to the destination, and half an hour back.
Then, we get back, roam around some more and finally get to the station, where we find out that our train is late by half an hour. There are a few more annoying delays and when we get home, it's 12 in the night. some day, eh?
My suggestion: Never, ever go to Geneva in peak winter. Never.
Slumdog Millionaire
Right. I just have to get it out of my system, and I don't care who reads. Slumdog Millionaire is just another movie. It's not a great movie. I don't think the movie deserves so many accolades, it's just overrated. Now, let's do this the old style. What are the positive aspects of the movie?
1. Brilliant cinematography.
2. Music Score by A. R. Rehman is not his best, but it suits the flow of the movie.
3. A supposedly different story line.
4. Good direction and editing.
5. Entertaining
All in all, the movie's technically great. But so are RGV's movies. And there's the standard argument against every Indian writing a negative review of this movie: The movie just pricks the sensitive areas of the Patriotic Heart. An Indian abroad, especially, cannot tolerate anything that shows his/her country in a negative light. Right. In my case atleast, I couldn't relate to anything shown about India in the movie, but I wasn't born in a slum. The story, as far as I'm concerned, could be in any slum. So, let's for the moment assume that the movie took place somewhere far from India and get rid of the patriotic heart.
I am willing to concede that it is possible, just possible that so many bad things can happen to one single person. Your mom dies, you grow up in a slum, you're captured by a beggar gang where they try to put out your eyes, you run away on a train, child prostitution etc., because these are real problems in slums. But what I particularly disliked was the attempt to sensationalise some things in the movie. Some things I find unacceptable:
1. The scene where he is beaten up for misleading two American tourists into the Dhobi Ghaat and he says 'You wanted to see the real India'. What irked me even more was the reply: 'Here's some of real America for you, son' (or something like that). Now why was this scene put there, or even necessary? I mean, you could always argue 'this was just this one guy's case and it's what really happened to him, let it go for God's sake!'. Maybe, but more likely not. I think this scene was added simply to appeal to the western pride and make them feel comfortable and happy when they're watching it. It reaffirms their existent beliefs and impressions. This is where the movie's subtle underlying stereotyping just pokes through.
2. The storyline is just too flimsy to be convincing at times. Like the 100 dollar bill and how he gets to know the name of Ben Franklin, is way too unconvincing. A blind kid begging in a Mumbai subway telling Jamal the name of the guy on the 100 dollar bill seems just too contrived. The situation of the kid dressed as Rama holding a Bow and Arrow in his hand being related to the riot scene leaves too many holes in reasoning. I would little assume that any Hindu rioters charging in to a Muslim slum would bring their kids dressed up as Rama to witness the killing. Too artificial.
3. The mix of Hindi and English dialogue in the movie just seems out of place. It makes the Hindi dialogue too prosaic, and this again, is I think simply to appeal to the western audiences. I mean, they wouldn't understand the Hindi dialogues anyway, but it gives the movie an 'authenticity'. Jamal speaking perfect British English complete with the accent makes little sense in the movie's context.
4. Ending the movie with a Bollywood-style item number. Duh.
Oh, and before I forget,
5. Anil Kapoor.
There's a standard argument, that Hollywood has always shown only the rotting and gangrenous parts of India. The view is not balanced, and any movie about India is invariably filled with stereotype snake charmers, slum dwellers and loose cows excreting on highways. There are no movies of successful Indian businessmen or great success stories which catch the Hollywood eye. I mean, when you think of the US, you don't usually think of the slums of NY or Chicago or the mystic Native American witch doctors. When you think of Britain, it's not about medieval witch burners or the slums of Victorian England. I don't care to follow this line of argument, because Hollywood, after all, is full of stereotypes, and not just about India.
There are a few things, I must admit, are new about this movie. It fails to sit clean into any predetermined template or framework. It's easily better than previous attempts to mould Bollywood and Hollywood, better than Marigold, Mistress of Spices and the other retarded lot. But is it really as good as this? I beg to differ. These awards put it in the league of classics, in the same league as City of God and Forrest Gump. To me, it's just not there.
1. Brilliant cinematography.
2. Music Score by A. R. Rehman is not his best, but it suits the flow of the movie.
3. A supposedly different story line.
4. Good direction and editing.
5. Entertaining
All in all, the movie's technically great. But so are RGV's movies. And there's the standard argument against every Indian writing a negative review of this movie: The movie just pricks the sensitive areas of the Patriotic Heart. An Indian abroad, especially, cannot tolerate anything that shows his/her country in a negative light. Right. In my case atleast, I couldn't relate to anything shown about India in the movie, but I wasn't born in a slum. The story, as far as I'm concerned, could be in any slum. So, let's for the moment assume that the movie took place somewhere far from India and get rid of the patriotic heart.
I am willing to concede that it is possible, just possible that so many bad things can happen to one single person. Your mom dies, you grow up in a slum, you're captured by a beggar gang where they try to put out your eyes, you run away on a train, child prostitution etc., because these are real problems in slums. But what I particularly disliked was the attempt to sensationalise some things in the movie. Some things I find unacceptable:
1. The scene where he is beaten up for misleading two American tourists into the Dhobi Ghaat and he says 'You wanted to see the real India'. What irked me even more was the reply: 'Here's some of real America for you, son' (or something like that). Now why was this scene put there, or even necessary? I mean, you could always argue 'this was just this one guy's case and it's what really happened to him, let it go for God's sake!'. Maybe, but more likely not. I think this scene was added simply to appeal to the western pride and make them feel comfortable and happy when they're watching it. It reaffirms their existent beliefs and impressions. This is where the movie's subtle underlying stereotyping just pokes through.
2. The storyline is just too flimsy to be convincing at times. Like the 100 dollar bill and how he gets to know the name of Ben Franklin, is way too unconvincing. A blind kid begging in a Mumbai subway telling Jamal the name of the guy on the 100 dollar bill seems just too contrived. The situation of the kid dressed as Rama holding a Bow and Arrow in his hand being related to the riot scene leaves too many holes in reasoning. I would little assume that any Hindu rioters charging in to a Muslim slum would bring their kids dressed up as Rama to witness the killing. Too artificial.
3. The mix of Hindi and English dialogue in the movie just seems out of place. It makes the Hindi dialogue too prosaic, and this again, is I think simply to appeal to the western audiences. I mean, they wouldn't understand the Hindi dialogues anyway, but it gives the movie an 'authenticity'. Jamal speaking perfect British English complete with the accent makes little sense in the movie's context.
4. Ending the movie with a Bollywood-style item number. Duh.
Oh, and before I forget,
5. Anil Kapoor.
There's a standard argument, that Hollywood has always shown only the rotting and gangrenous parts of India. The view is not balanced, and any movie about India is invariably filled with stereotype snake charmers, slum dwellers and loose cows excreting on highways. There are no movies of successful Indian businessmen or great success stories which catch the Hollywood eye. I mean, when you think of the US, you don't usually think of the slums of NY or Chicago or the mystic Native American witch doctors. When you think of Britain, it's not about medieval witch burners or the slums of Victorian England. I don't care to follow this line of argument, because Hollywood, after all, is full of stereotypes, and not just about India.
There are a few things, I must admit, are new about this movie. It fails to sit clean into any predetermined template or framework. It's easily better than previous attempts to mould Bollywood and Hollywood, better than Marigold, Mistress of Spices and the other retarded lot. But is it really as good as this? I beg to differ. These awards put it in the league of classics, in the same league as City of God and Forrest Gump. To me, it's just not there.
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