Senorita goes to the market...

Sunday lunch has always been a highlight in the Sen household as the entire clan tends to be at home if all of us are in town. I remember going to the market with my mum when I was little (my mum maintains that though I have grown physically, mentally I'm still a three year old, but I digress). We would go to the vegetable market, the fish market and then as a special treat to a juice shop and indulge in tall glasses filled with freshly squeezed sugarcane juice (the machine was at the entrance of the shop and the juice would be squeezed right before your eyes) mother-daughter bonding at its best, I say. This brings to mind an incident that happened when I was about six or seven years old. My mum and I were in the market to buy some fish. After a while I got distracted by the antics of a cat that was roaming under tables on which the fishes were place and was quite absorbed in watching it that I didn't notice my mum move away to make place for another lady who was also buying fish from the same vendor. After purchasing what she wanted the lady turned to leave and I started walking away with her, it was only on hearing my mum call out to me that I realised my mistake !!!

Now-a-days we normally buy vegetables and fish from the vendors who come to our place in the mornings. However this morning my dad decided to go the market and I decided to tag along as it had been years (over a decade) since I had been there and my dad is absolutely great when it come to bargaining, I decided it was time to learn this life skill, given the fact that I may soon have to strike out on my own (more on this at a later date). After dressing for the occasion in rolled-up pants (my dad) and capris (your truly) we arrived at the fish market and at once my senses told me that this place has not changed an inch in all these years. The entrance to the market smells like a bouquet of fish, chicken, meat, vegetables and is and has always been was a little too much for my delicate constitution and I almost passed out as the smell hit my nostrils. I thank my  stars that I practiced holding my breath as a child and this came in useful just now as I sprinted into the market while holding my  breath, lest I faint or worse puke. What is really funny is the fact that once inside the smell normalises and you are able to breathe normally. Don't for a minute think that this is endemic to the Mumbai fish market, the entrance to the fish market that I visited while at Singapore smelled worse that I almost turned back.

So there we were inside the fish market looking at the catch of the day on display. The entire atmosphere is quite electric and buzzing with activity. Normally the womenfolk sell the fish which their sons/ husbands/ brothers have caught earlier in the day. The way they dress is quite a sight, all of them decked to the nines with their hair in a bun, their nau-wari saris in a kashti and with enough gold on their person to make you wonder if you accidentally stumbled into a wedding. Just keep your ears open as you get to hear some interesting conversations. My dad has a very unique technique of buying fish. He does a kind of recce of the entire market place, wherein he notes what kind of fish is available and what are the general price levels like. He then zeros in on a few shops where he feels the fish is good and the price reasonable are proceeds to haggle. The trick is to state almost half the price and you need to do it with a poker face(display half a smirk and all is lost, either they will abuse you or see through your ruse and dig their heels in). Once you realise that she is willing to lower the price pretend to walk away and all hell break loose "Aye Bai", "Aye Raja", "Oh Madam","Oh Bhau" "Oh Dada" they call out to you. Then you walk back and haggle some more and normally you will get it at the price you first quoted. I observed the seasoned player in action and soon we had bought crabs, prawns and pomfrets and decided that we have collected enough and decided to call it a day. By the way the pic that you see here is Butter Garlic Pepper Crab made by your truly, for the recipe refer to my other blog!!!

Good News India !!!

In a time when all we seem to read in the newspapers are Scams ranging from Army rations to Spectrum, what I witnessed today has established my faith in the Indian Government more so in the Indian Postal Department. I had gone to the Post office this morning to cash some NSCs (National Saving Certificates) that I had purchased some years back and being very sceptical about government offices was expecting to be shuffled from desk to desk before I could get my money back.

I arrived at the counter and was instructed by the clerk to fill in the discharge details at the back of the certificates, which I did but unfortunately with a green pen which was the only pen I could find in my bag(something in my head kept going that using a green pen was taboo, but I did it anyway). When I presented the certificates to the clerk blew his top and literally threw the certificates at my face, at that point I felt that I was really lucky to be a woman as I am sure he would have manhandled me had I been a man. He was like, "Are you an accountant, who asked you to fill in the details in green ink ??"(I wonder what he would do to me if he realised that I was in fact a CA). I apologised but he continued ranting "Sorry is not enough, speak to the In-charge, I am not paying this".

I spoke to the In-charge, who said, kindly instructed me to write out the details in blue pen, accordingly I wrote out the details in blue pen, but being the ass that I am at time, I wrote over the green, so there I was holding a discharged certificate with instruction in green that have been overwritten in blue. When the clerk saw this he literally hit the roof, he was like, "What is this ?? ( accompanied with a look that said, are you mad or something), all this overwriting it looks like someone forged it". I will not pay out based on this. He took the certificates went and conferred with the  In-charge for a while. Then he came back and handed back the certificates along with a blue pen and instructed me to fill in the details on the left hand side of the certificate. When I returned the certificates he calmly explained that he had to answer to his superiors and they would not look kindly to such mistakes and he took the certificates away and within fifteen minutes the In-charge called me and with a smile handed me my cheque. In fact if I hadn't messed up in the first place I think my cheque would have been handed to me in five minutes... faster than any bank (nationalised or private). Their efficiency and diligence has left me floored, humbled.

The working conditions at these government offices are far from comfortable. However in the thirty minutes that I spent at the post office what I witnessed was a sense of camaraderie, they were laughing, smiling, joking and helping each other get the job done to the best of the abilities. I overheard the In charge tell another customer "We are here to serve you, of course we want you to come back to us". I for one will go back to them and soon...

How the standing ovation was invented...

Finally El, Shil and I went out together... we have been planning an outing for quite a while, from a quick trip to Mauritius (this was shot down by A stating that it is a honeymooners paradise and to be honest after doing Bintan solo I don't think I could do another honeymoon destination unless of course I am on my honeymoon), France-Italy-(this was abandoned as there is too much to see and I won't get that kind of leave), New York - A girls dream destination, we are still toying with this one, for all you know, come March we might actually be there...

After fifteen days of back to back 10-12 hr days at work, my mind had reached snapping point and I was looking to doing something relaxing. The Kala Ghoda Festival which ended Sunday seemed like an ideal place for some relaxing. For one this is held in town and I am a sucker for anything Victorian, the architecture of the old building around the Fort area and the general feel of the area gives me a high like nothing else. I discussed this with Shil and EL and both agreed that it is a great way to spend a idle Saturday afternoon. Shil went one up and suggested we also throw in some shopping at Colaba and lunch at Cafe Mondegar which was duly agreed upon by El and I.

It was decided that Shil and El meet me at Andheri at 11.15 am on Saturday and together we proceed to town. Come Saturday the trip didn't begin as planned, El being El, had to arrived late, the lame excuse she gave us was that she hates waking up early !!! Shil and I have now decided that going forward we will work on an ELT ( El Time) which operates quite like GMT viz: GMT+5.5 which gives us the time difference between India and the UK, in the same fashion ELT-1 will give the time we expect to start less one hour which will be the time we tell El to reach the rendezvous point. So, if we are meeting at 5 pm in the evening, then we intend to  tell El that we are meeting at 4 pm. But I digress, by the time they arrived at Andheri it was well past 12 noon. Not the ones to let this put a damper on the mood, we proceeded towards town while torturing El with a fair bit of jokes at her expense, and to her credit El took in her stride. The topic in the taxi ranged from the ideal partner, swimming, books, music, matrimonial sites, etc.

We arrived at Colaba a little after one in the afternoon and immediately hit the shops. Shil was our expert bargainer and did manage to get us some stuff real cheap. Your truly being totally hopeless at bargaining couldn't bargain if my life depended on it and usually ends up buying stuff at fixed price shops and malls. I know I am digressing form the point but this brings to mind an incident with my sister in a starring role. She quite prides herself at quite a bargainer. She was once haggling with the fruit vendor on the price of some mangoes she was looking to purchase (she patronises this particular shop and the guy even shoots her a salute when she arrives at the market).

The conversation went something like this:
Fruit Vendor: Madamji aap ded sau per dozen de dijiye, bohot acche aam hai, aapse jyada thodi lunga main !!! 
My Sister:  Bhaiyya main to bas do sau mein hi khareedungi
Fruit Vendor: Madamji, app aam leke jaayiye, bhaav badmein karenge.
(In her defence, she states that the ded sau(Rs.150) and dhai sau(Rs.250) is something she is a little iffy about and can never get it right)

Back to our story, we ended up buying quite a lot of stuff, the trick according to Shil is to state less than half the price and haggle like there is no tomorrow, then walk a few steps away from the shop, per the laws governing the human psyche the vendor will call us back and post some more haggling we will get the items are close to half price. This approach worked in most place except one (the vendor stood his ground and did not call us back) and Shil was really disappointed that the law of the-walking-away-customer did not work. However later in the day we saw a lady wearing the same outfit that we were planning to buy and it looked hideous to say the least, that's when we decided that it was divine intervention that the shopkeeper didn't call us back.

After we had stashed up on quite some loot we trained our sights on Cafe Mondegar and decided to tuck in some lunch. Accordingly we arrived there and after waiting for five minutes were shown to our table. We ordered some lunch and beer to go along with it. As a rule yours truly is a tee totaller, but this once I made an exception as I wanted to strike off item number 98 off my things-to-do-before-I-die-list - drinking in public. So thanks to Shil and El, I now have one less thing to do before I die. After spending close to three hours here, (I am in love with this place), it was packed to the gills but still there was no pressure on us to vacate our seats, in other hotels, especially Udupi restaurants, they give you hints like, clearing your table, wiping it, waiters coming up to you asking you if there is anything else you would like to order, significant looks etc. but here, nothing, it was like sit-till-the-cows-come-home-we-have-no-problems !!!

All to soon it was time to go to the Asiatic Library as the Music Festival was due to begin at 6.15 pm. We arrived there at a little after five thirty in the evening and found people already sat there. Mumbai never ceases to surprise me, at any time of the day you will have a 10-15 people just sat around with nothing to do, doing what is kind of like a national hobby, ask anyone what he is doing, pat comes the reply "Arre kuch nahi yaar, yunhi timpass kar raha tha!!" If there is one thing that we Indians have a surfeit of it is Time and we are always looking for ways and means to pass it, kill it, etc.

We positioned ourselves strategically halfway up the steps as we figured, it is best not to sit too high up as we may need to beat a hasty retreat if the music that is played isn't to our liking. By the time it was 6.15 pm there wasn't a single empty seat and a good number of people had to stand and those of us who were sitting were shifting quite a bit as the steps are made of stone and our delicate backsides were getting flattened by the minute. Shil declared "I had no idea I had bones down there". Finally we sat on top of the bags containing our purchases for the day which helped ease the discomfort to some extent. The programme started and the Gundecha Brothers presented four compositions of Dhrupad and I will just say that to hear them sing was a treat. All I could do was close my eyes and let my senses take in the divine sounds. All too soon the concert ended and quite a few people stood up while clapping and it dawned on me that the standing ovation must have been invented by such a necessity all those years ago. Some unfortunate soul,s backside must have hurt bad while he was sat and since he couldn't escape the torture as good manners demand that you remain where you are till the concert ended, the least he could do for his aching back side was leap to his feet while clapping as soon as the last notes were being sang/played, thus inventing the standing ovation!!!

After the concert ended we took a cab to Marine Drive and walked the promenade for a bit, gossiping about this and that and from there we moved to Haji Ali. I have always wanted to visit this shrine but never had the opportunity, I would like to thank Shil and El for fulfilling this wish of mine as item 57 of my list-of-things-to-do-before-I-die now stands completed. A little history of the this shrine courtesy Wikipedia.

The Haji Ali Dargah is a mosque and dargah (tomb) located on an islet off the coast of Worli in Southern part of Mumbai. Lying as it does in the heart of the city, the dargah is one of the most recognizable landmarks of Mumbai. An exquisite example of Indian Islamic architecture, associated with legends about doomed lovers, the dargah contains the tomb of Sayed Peer Haji Ali Shah Bukhari.

The Haji Ali Dargah was constructed in 1431 in memory of a rich Muslim merchant, Sayyed Peer Haji Ali Shah Bukhari (R.A.), who gave up all his worldly possessions before making a pilgrimage to Mecca. Hailing from Bukhara, in the ancient Persian Empire and now in Uzbekistan, Bukhari travelled around the world in the early to mid 15th century, and then settled in Mumbai.

As per the legends, surrounding his life, once the Saint saw a poor woman crying on the road, holding an empty vessel. He asked her what the problem was. She sobbed that that her husband would thrash her since she had stumbled and accidentally spilled the oil she was carrying. He asked her to take him to the spot where she lost the oil. There, he jabbed a finger into the soil and the oil gushed out. The overjoyed woman filled up the vessel and went home. Later, Pir Haji Ali Shah Bukhari (R.A.) had a recurring - and disturbing - dream that he had injured Earth by his act. Full of remorse, he soon fell ill and directed his followers to cast the coffin carrying his body into the Arabian Sea, once he died. Haji Ali left this world during his journey to Mecca and miraculously the casket carrying his body, floated back to these shores, getting stuck in the string of rocky islets just off the shore of Worli. Thus, the Dargah was constructed there.

On Thursdays and Fridays, the shrine is visited by at least 40,000 pilgrims. Irrespective of faith and religion, people visit the 'dargah' to get the blessings of the legendary saint. Sometimes, especially on Fridays, people may find various sufi musicians performing a form of devotional music called Qawwali at the Dargah.

The Dargah Sharief is built on a tiny islet located 500 meters from the coast, in the middle of Worli Bay, in the vicinity of Worli. The edifice is a brilliant specimen of the Indo-Islamic style of architecture. The islet is linked to the city precinct of Mahalakshmi by a narrow causeway, which is nearly a kilometre (0.62 mile) long. The accessibility to the dargah is very much dependent on the tides. As, the causeway is not bound by railings, when the causeway gets submerged during the tides high tides it becomes inaccessible. Therefore, the dargah is accessible only during low tide. This walk on the causeway, with the sea on both sides, is one of the highlights of a trip to the shrine. During the high tide, the dargah seems completely isolated with no access. It looks more like a little island.

After a quick dekho at the shrine we made a beeline for the famous Haji Ali Juice centre where we treated ourselves to some fruit cream. All to soon it was time to call it a day and we hailed a cab back home, but decided to travel via the Sea-Link, my first time on the same and I can tell you it was an unforgettable experience just like the entire day I spent with Shil and El, this day will remain in my memory forever and I hope we have many more such outings in the years to come!!!

How to stay on a high: Eat Vegetables apparently!!!

This is something that has baffled me no end, my life at the moment isn't exactly smooth sailing, however I somehow manage to remain on a high. The Times which over the years has been my source of enlightenment has once again proved to be worth the premium it demands in the News market and now I know the reason behind the perpetual grin plastered on my face.

Today's edition of  the Sunday Times carries an article where it reports that the farmers in rural areas of Nashik, Pune and the Konkan regions are spraying country liquor on vegetables and also feeding it to chicken. They claim it makes the vegetables shinier and the chickens fatter, the only ones whining about this state of affairs are the Agro Scientists who disapprove of the practice. I think some farmer must have got his hands on the research papers by Dr Bose who proved it all those years ago that plants feel pain, understand affection etc and decided to feed his plants with liquor to get them on a high thereby making them forget their "gham/ dukh/ dard"  and thereby give a better output.

As I read this article, my over imaginative mind went into turbo mode painting a picture of how plants and chicken must be reacting at spray/feed time. I'm sure the addicted plants must be whispering to each other "Naaragi/ mosambi kuch bhi pila..."

Sister's Day!!!

Be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the floor each morning the devil says Oh crap, she's up!

Life is too short to wake up with regrets. Believe everything happens for a reason.. If u get a second chance, grab it! If it changes your life, let it.. Forgive quickly.. God never said life wud be easy. He just promised it wud be worth it..

Today is sister's day, Share this with all your sisters and girlfriends, coz we are only as strong as the coffee we drink, the hair spray we use and the friends we have.. To all the cool women n girls that have touched my life.

Here's to You... Cheers!

I received this SMS today and think it is cool, hence sharing it with you!!!

Deaddiction...

I confess, that I am addicted to buying books, just can't help it, when I see a bookstore my mind goes on autopilot and my feet automatically start walking towards it. It is almost like I am the mariner being lured to be shipwrecked by the music played by the Sirens, the store beckons to me and once inside the intoxicating smell of the new books holds me spellbound.

I am at a very critical stage of this illness and just like men who chase women they have no intention of marrying, I sometime buy books I have no intention of reading. The reasoning I use to silence the teeny weeny logical part of my brain or conscience or whatever else the accusing voice that goes in your head every time you do something bad is called, is that it will help to improve my mind, and I know it could use all the improving it can get. This ploy usually works but as a result I have an entire closet full of books of which about 25% are of the kind, which in moments of sanity, I wonder what made me buy them in the first place. Add to this the books that are gifted to me by friends and colleagues who know I am a voracious reader. To be honest I don't have the heart to say no, but I believe that like lingerie, books are of a very personal nature and no matter how well you know the person, you shouldn't gift a person some book because you liked it as the person may have vastly different taste in books.

In the new year, I had decided to try and control my impulsiveness when it comes to buying any new books and try and go through the ones that I have accumulated over the years. I have managed to keep on the straight and narrow so far and hope to be good the rest of the year as well, so help me god!!!

100th Post !!!

Two and half years back I tentatively put up my first post and since then there has been no looking back; after boring you to near-death, tickling your funny bone and writing some posts that make you want to kick yourself as to why you spent the last 10-15 minutes of your life reading it, I have achieved something of a milestone today; I post my 100th article today and as I type it I am on cloud nine.

This just happened, I never really though I would achieve this milestone, what with my temperamental and impulsive nature, this blog has been through a lot, being deleted once, reinstated with invitation reading, back to free-viewing for all, me going through writers block, making some friends, losing some of them, this blog has remained constant through it all and has been an outlet for me to be me!!!

I really wanted to write some thing funny as my 100th post but am really feeling far too emotional just now to wisecrack. I want to thank all my readers (people who read and comment), stalkers (people who read but won't comment, just kidding), friends who egged me on to write (honorable mentions, Poonam-who put the bee in the bonnet while we were still in college with the comment "You have a fabulous vocabulary and command over language, you really should take up journalism or something", thanks Poonam- you are a star!!! and Vin, though we have lost touch over the years, the sole reason you see me here is Vin, if she had not bulldozed me into creating a blog, all these words and posts would have remained in me and gone into the afterlife unspoken and unsaid), my family who are my best critics, if I can get a crack of a smile from my Mum (she is quite like Jeeves, when it comes to showing emotion while reading my posts) I know the post is a cracker and will be appreciated and last but not the least my sister, my partner in crime and inspiration for most of my post, what with her ready wit and zingy one liners, I don't need to go far for fodder for posts.

I leave you with this stanza from my favourite poem...

The woods are lovely dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep...

And miles to go before I sleep...

And miles to go before I sleep...

Thank You!!!