Girls Day Out!!!

My friend P is true blue gujju and loves her street food. We ( El and I ) visited her place yesterday she took us to the famous Khau Galli in Ghatkopar to eat some as she puts it "time-pass kachra". Narrating an incident from the middle is no fun so as Frauline Maria would say " Lets start from the very beginning ...

P invited El and I to spend a day at her place. Her husband V had to work so we would have the whole place to ourselves, she also offered to take us to Khau Galli in the evening. We agreed as it seemed like a good way to spend a lazy saturday afternoon and an absolutely topping way to spend an evening making our way through the delicacies offered by the street food stalls.

El and I met up a little early at R City Mall and did a bit of Ten Pin bowling (just for the record your truly won) and from there we hit the stores for some window shopping at the expensive boutiques and tried on some dresses at a chain store. I was in the pits as none of the dresses would fit and El had a mini battle on her hands as she tried to lift my spirits. It was only after I ploughed my way through a lovely Irish Caramel Frappe (courtesy EL) and a load of pep talk (again from El) the gist of which was something on the lines of, "the dresses at these stores are actually made for stick insects and not for real women" did I start feeling better.

We had just finished our respective drinks when P called with the all important message"All Clear, you guys can come over". We took a rickshaw and landed at her place around 3 p.m. Since this is an honest account of all that transpired yesterday I have to record that we had to make a few frantic calls to P after we got hopelessly lost (both El and I have absolutely no sense of direction) and P had to come and collect us. But as they say " Alls well that ends well" we finally arrived at her place. We spent a couple of hours chatting (read gossiping), eating pizza(with a wheat bread base, P is very health conscious), playing cards and watched a movie on TV. Time passes really quickly when you are having fun and before you could say "Khau Galli" it was time to go there.

We hit Khau galli at about six-thirty in the evening. The place was positively teeming with people and it seemed like the whole of Mumbai had turned up there for a snack. The aromas from the various stores mingled with each other and gave the place a character of its own. There were stalls selling pav-bhaji, chaat, dosa (some boasting of 40 different styles of dosas), sandwiches, golas, ice-cream etc. Since we had a late pizza lunch (big mistake) none of us were in a mood for anything heavy so we decided against having dosas or sandwiches. At this point I would also like to record that even though the MET department claims that the monsoons have arrived in Mumbai, I beg to differ, apart for a few scattered showers here and there which have done nothing to cool the city, the monsoons have yet to arrive so as a result it is still sweltering hot. This was another reason which really put us off having anything hot. So to cool of a little we started off with pani puri. It felt absolutely divine as we ate the cold-sweet-sour water filled puris. As far as a I could taste the only other ingredient in this manna-for-heaven like dish was boiled whole moong (I dont know what it is called in English and at this point I am feeling too bored to google it). From there we moved on to a small quaint store that P claims has been around since her grandfather's time. Here we had a very unique concoction " Masala Soda" and " Masala Thumbs Up". It may not sound like much but it taste absolutely great. To round things off El and P ate sandwich ice-cream which is a slab of vanilla ice-cream sandwiched between two biscuits, very interesting concept and tasted just about nice.

We did a spot of window shopping (EL and P) and shopping (me) after which I received a sermon from El, when-you-window-shop-you-only-look-you-no-buy which had me meekly nodding my head. As all good things must come to an end it was time to go home, but not before we made plans for a similar outing only change being that we fast the whole day before we hit Khau Galli so as to do justice to the food on offer !!!

Penne in tomato cream sauce

Serves 2

Ingredients:

1 cup penne
1/2 cup tomato ketchup
1 large capsisum (julienne)
1 small carrot (julienne)
1 small tomato (chop finely)
3 -4 cloves of garlic (crushed)
1 tbsp of whipped cream
2 tbsp of olive oil
Chilli flakes
Pepper powder

Method:

1) Cook the penne and keep aside.

2) In a large pan, heat olive oil and add the carrots and capsicum. Let it cook for a couple of minutes, stir frequently.

3) Add the garlic and sauté till the raw smell of garlic disappears.

4) Add the tomato and cook till it softens, now add the tomato ketchup and about a quarter of a cup of water and bring to a boil.

5) Add the whipped cream and let it simmer for a while.

6) Add the cooked penne, chilli flakes and pepper powder and mix well. Cook for about a minute.

7) Serve hot.

Is it a bird, is it a plane... its a....

Most writers have to travel far and wide for inspiration... they go to picturesque towns, foreign locations, lock themselves in their rooms till the creative juices flow...but your truly just has to wake up in the morning and there is enough material to fill blogosphere. The scrapes and incidents that seem to plague my kith and kin make for some humorous blogging. Take for instance the latest incident I am about to narrate. I was feeling uneasy all day today so I left work early to rest for a bit. However, it seems like fate was busy scheming against me as what I did when I got home was far for rest, but to be honest it was therapeutic. Nothing lifts the spirits more than a chance to be able to catch a lying thief and be able to pin them down while they squirm!!!

My sister arrived from work laden with some clothes that she had given to the tailor for alteration. Thing is my sister has a penchant for churidars and this tailor has stitched then so tight that she was having difficulty in wearing it, so she asked him to loose it a bit around the ankles. Two of the pieces were altered per her wish but the third one was a bit of a mess. Instead of loosening it he has further tightened it and to make matters worse they stitched on another piece of cloth to make up for the error in original cutting process. All in all it looked like a churidar that a indianised Charlie Chaplin would wear. My sister was livid and insisted I go along with her for moral support in her crusade against the errant tailor. We arrived at the tailors and from here on I will try to reproduce the conversation that we had with the tailor (T)/ Assistant Tailor (AT)/ Salesgirl (S)(Since this is a family space I refuse to type the name normally attributed to the female canine, but that is what she is, period).

S: Arre, aap wapas aage, nahi fit ho raha hai kya , abhi bhi ?
My sister (MS) : Haan, yeh kya kiya aap logon ne, loose karneke jagah pe tight kar dala... pair andar jaata hi nahi hai..
S (smirking): Arre, madam, hum ne jitna ho saka kiya, Arre, AT, jara dekho toh, kya hua hai idhar.(then looking at my sister) "Madam aap hai na thoda diet karo".
AT: Haan madam, jitna kapda tha sab khatam ho gaya aur hum ne apne taraf se aur kapda daalkar loose kiya issko (charlie chaplin style).
MS: Ek toh, cutting karte waqt chota kaata aapne, upar se loose karne ke paise alag liye, yeh sab karne ke baat aap mujhe diet karne ki salah de rahe hai ??, Aise hai toh main aage se aapke paas kyon aaon, aur main aapke madam ko bhi complain karungi. Main ussko phone karke bataungi.
S (trying to make amends): Arre madam, aap toh burra, maan gaye, main toh mazak kar rahi thi, aap baitho, AT, zarra dekh agar kuch ho sakta hai toh.
AT(trucelently): Kuch nahi ho sakta, phir bhi try karta hoon.
We sit down on a couple of chairs that are placed behind ATs work station. After a while I who had been a mute spectator so long, happen to glance at the stuff kept under AT's sewing machine...and what do I find there, he has stitched a cute little BAG out of the cloth left over from my SISTER's DRESS MATERIAL!!!
I pointed it out to my sister and as they in the mystery books ...THEN IT HAPPENNED... my normally long suffering sister practically erupted from her seat and landed at AT's sewing machine.
MS (screaming and pointing at the BAG): Yeh, kya hai, tumne mere dress material ke bag banaya !!!!
AT (whimpering, looking at S): Woh... Kya... Nahi...
S (fear writ large on her face): Mujhe, kuch nahi pata, main nayi hoon yahan pe, mere aane se phele hua hoga yeh...
MS (pointedly addressing S): Yeh, kapda maine aapko hi diya tha, mera kapda ka BAG banake aap mujhe DIET karneko bol rahi thi aap, upar se "alteration" ke paise bhi liye mujhse...abhi tu ruk (this last sentence was said rather ominously, even I was taken aback, my sister is normally a Gandhian and avoids confrontation)!!!!
Then my sister pulled out her mobile phone and jabbed in the tailoring shop owner's (B) number.
MS (on the phone): Is this B ??...Hi this is D, Yeah, I want to talk to you about the clothes that I have given for alteration. Not only has your tailor messed my churidar, by cutting it short, your salesgirl tells me to go on a diet so that I can fit in to the clothes and to top it all off I find that the material left over after making the churidar has been utilised to make a BAG. Do you think this is right??
B (shocked): Did the girl at the counter tell you this ?
MS: Yes.
B: I will look into the matter, unfortunately I cannot come in today, but we can take it offline tomorrow.
MS (calming down considerably): OK.

After this we left the shop in a kind of stupor, the chudidar and bag(main evidence of the crime) in tow. It was only a few minutes later we realised how funny the whole incident was and burst in to peals of laughter. My sister went on to say that we should have ransacked the shop, god alone know what else we might find that has been made from the dress materials she had given over the years..wallets, belts!!!

Ghost Stories!!!

Everyone likes ghost stories. Here is my attempt at penning true life incidents. Each of the below mentioned incidents did happen and are 100% true. They were narrated to me by my office colleagues when we took a break from crunching numbers. I would like to thank SK, V and A for sharing these stories with me. They are spooky, seem unreal and all of them entertaining in a goose-bumpy kind of way. So dear reader get ready to be spooked. Enjoy!!

Calcutta haunting!

SK 's father was in the army, so SK spent his formative years travelling all over the country thanks to his father's numerous postings. The incident I am about to narrate took place at the army quarters in Calcutta.

SK's father had to report at 4.30 a.m. every morning for training. Their next door neighbour whom we shall call C, was also required to report for the said training, but had trouble waking up early in the morning so he requested SK's father to knock at the door when he was leaving. SK's father agreed and it was all set.

Next day morning as was the ritual SK's mom walked SK's father to the door. SK's father stepped out and turned to go to C's house, when all of a sudden, they were surprised to see C dressed in parade uniform walking away towards the ground. To say the least SK's father was a littled miffed that C did not have the courtesy to wait up and say hello, but he let it pass and soon forgot about it.

Later in the day C's wife stepped out to water the plants. She and SK's mom chatted for a while and thats when C's wife asked why SK's father did not knock before leaving, she went on to say that C missed the training again today as he to could not wake up. SK's mom was flabbergasted, she told her that both SK's father and she has seen C in full army uniform leave the house and walk towards the parade grounds. To which C's wife said C was still in bed having taken the day off work! Now both SK's mom and C's wife were spooked and they inquired with some old residents if anyone else had such sightings in the past. That was when they were told that that road was haunted by the ghost of an armyman!!!

Ghost Samaritan!

This one took place in rural Maharastra, Konkan to be precise. V's family has an ancestral bungalow in Konkan and spent occasional vacations there. A few years ago when they were on one such vacation V's elder sister fell ill and needed some medicines that were not available at the village. V's father set out to get the medicines. It was raining pretty heavily and V's aunt warned him that the last bus for the village left at 6.30 from the city and if he missed the bus, he would have to walk home.

As luck would have it V's father missed the bus and cursing his luck he started the long lonely trek home. The rain was now pouring pretty heavily and rain water was cascading off his raincoat and joining the river that had formed where earlier in the day had been a kaccha road. He must have walked for half an hour or so when he felt like someone/ something was walking behind him. He stopped, looked around and called out but there was no one,so he shrugged it off and continued walking thinking that it was just his raincoat and gumboots that were making the sound and cursed his overactive imagination. But the feeling of being watch just would not go. After a while he became aware that the sounds came from up ahead and not from behind as he earlier thought. It sounded like grass being cut by a sickle... slick, slick, slick... He walked faster towards the sound and soon ahead in the gloom he saw a faint light...some distance away was a bullock cart.

He called out to the occupant and the bullock cart came to a halt. The person driving the cart offered V's dad a lift and introduced himself as Dhanghar. He said he lived in the same village and knew V's family. V's dad had moved to the city a few decades ago and barely knew people there anymore and was glad for a ride back home. They covered the remaining part of the journey chit-chatting about the village and happennings. Before they knew it they arrived at the village, Dhanghar dropped V's dad at the gate and left. On arriving at the house, V's dad narrated how he missed the bus and was trudging along alone when luckily he chanced upon Dhanghar who dropped him home. V's aunt who was listening silently so far, quielty asked whether he was sure it was Dhanghar who had dropped him. When V's father replied in the affirmative she dropped the bomb...Dhanghar had died three years ago!!!

Study Night Fright!

When A was in school she and her best friend D, would study together as it was good excuse to stay over at each others homes, be pampered by the moms (who supplied food and drink for the hardworking twosome), listen to music and exchange the latest gossip. During one such study night at A's place, sometime after mid-night D said that she would like to use the bathroom. Being scared to go alone she coaxed A to go with her. The bathroom was outside the study to the right and opposite it was a balcony that overlooked huge mango trees. The branches of these trees were so close that A claims she could pluck mangoes straight off the tree. So there A was stood outside the bathroom door waiting for D to come out. She began looking around and happened to look in the direction of the balcony. There sat on the branches of the mango tree was a man with these huge red eyes staring at her. She screamed loudly, on hearing her screams D rushed out and looked in the direction A was pointing, she too saw the apparition. By then, A's parents also arrived at the scene, when they looked out there was no one on the tree...the man had dissapeared!!!

Paneer Tikka Masala

I got this recipe from here. A few minor changes and this is what I made :),

Ingredients

For the paneer tikka

250 gms paneer
1tbsp ginger-garlic paste
1 tsp chilly powder
1/2 cup curd
1/2 tsp garam masala powder
salt to taste

For the gravy (masala)

2 Tomatoes (chopped)
2 Green Chillies (chopped)
1 Onion (chopped)
15 cashew nuts (chopped)
1 tsp chilly powder
1/2 cup of tomato ketchup
marinade left over from the tikkas
1/2 tsp garam masala powder
salt to taste
corriander leaves

Method:
For the Tikkas

1) Mix the curd, ginger-garlic paste, chilly powder, garam masala powder and salt.
2) Cut the Paneer pieces into cubes and marinate half the cubes in the above mixture for a few hours (I marinated it for 10 hours).
3) Place the marinated paneer cubes on a tava and fry them, when nicely done on one side, flip over and cook the other side.
4) There will be some marinade left after the cubes are taken out, keep it aside for the gravy.

For the gravy

1) Heat oil and fry the onions until translucent.
2) Add the left over marinade and cook well
3) Add the tomatoes and green chillies and cook till the tomatoes are nice and soft.
4) Add cashew nuts and cook for a few minutes.
5) Add the garam masala amd chilly powder and let it simmer for a while.
6) Remove from heat and cool.
7) Blitz this mixture in a blender.
8) Return the mixture back to the stove, add a little water and bring it to a boil.
9) Add the tomato ketchup and let it simmer for a while.
10) Add the fried paneer and raw paneer pieces.
11) Cook well and top with chopped corriander leaves.
12) Serve hot with chappaties.

Aap Korma mein phone karo!!!

My colleague A is setting up her new home in Powai and is currently shopping for furniture, appliance and other knick-knacks. In this process she is being plagued by the species know as the Indian Customerservitus, this particular species has evolved from the apes and works in establishments in the customer service department and is known to cause maximum discomfort to any person trying to get some decent customer service.

Things being as they are we in office are constantly regaled by horror and sometimes humour stories revolving around these sometimes bright and mostly moronic individuals.

The latest in this series happened today(yes, yours truly and team has been working weekends and yes, you may gloat that your life is much better than mine at the moment, but being the true optimist I looks forward to better days).

To come back to the topic, we (A & your truly) were in the middle of a serious discussion and her phone quacked (I refuse to say that it rang as she has this ringtone that sounds like a baby duck trying to escape certain death). She excused herself to take the call and I was left to overhear this interesting one-sided conversation.

A: Yes, speaking

A: Paar yeh to Powaiwale address mein deliver karna hai

A: Arre, par Kandivaliwala address billing address hai toh kya hua, delivery address to Powai ka tha na

A: Yeh baat main aapko pichle hafte bhi samjha chuki hoon na, phir aap baar baar kyon Kandivali wale address mein deliver karneki baat karte hai

A: Arre, aapko main bata chuki hoon na, to phir aap company mein bolo

A: Main kahan phone karu, Korma main???

At this point I was getting really interested, and asked her to inquire whether it was Shahi Korma or Navratna Korma that he wanted her to contact.

A(barely able to control her laughter): Main koi Korma mein phone nahi kar rahi, aap mere husband se baat karo...

After signing off thus she explained that the guy was from CROMA (the electronics megastore) and that the guy was really annoyed that she did not know KORMA and actually spoke to her in a "which-world-do-you-live-in-lady" tone. To make matters worse she had spoken to the same person in the previous week and already explained and sorted the issue about the billing address and delivery address!!!

Have you any kids ???

I have finally learnt my lesson... I hereby declare that I am no longer a Miss Goody-Two-Shoe wannabe...good samaritan acts propounded by Moral Science classes in school will be a thing of the past ... This latest incident which was a consequence of my good-samaritan-saves-the-day-for-old-lady act has absolutely converted me!!!

So here goes.

As you know I travel by auto rickshaw (driving still scares the living daylights out of me). As I rule I offer lifts to people I know and sometimes to random strangers as well. This is because I know how difficult it is to get an auto rickshaw during peak hours and also because some drivers just shoot off like scalded cats when I tell them that I want to go to Powai, it makes me feel as if I just expressed a burning desire to go to hell and take them with me. I take it that this happens to everyone so I play good samaritan by offering lifts. The other reason being, it also helps silence my nagging conscience by auto rickshaw-pooling and doing my bit for the environment.

Last week I was running late for office and with great difficulty managed to convince an auto rickshaw driver to ferry me to Powai. Just as the we were turning onto the main road, I saw Mrs. C trying to get an rickshaw. Now, Mrs.C's daughter and I went to the same school. It is like I-know-her-she-does-not-know-me, (I mean Mrs.C does not know me), but the good Samaritan in me offered her a lift and thus began my ordeal. Firstly I had to change my route to suit her destination, this added another 15 minutes to my travel time, but I decided to endure it. Big mistake!!!

Mrs. C accepted the ride and also invited another lady who I assumed was travelling with her. It was later that I realised that it was a total stranger. There we were the three of us squashed in the back seat of the rickshaw. People who know Mumbai rickshaw will realise that even though three people are legally allowed to sit in it, it is far from comfortable and if one of them happens to be a well fed farex baby types like yours truly it can get very uncomfortable indeed!!!

Somehow we managed, and it was time for small talk.

Me: Hello Auntie, I went to school with Ms.C, she was one year ahead of me.
Mrs.C: Oh, I see, what is your name? I will tell Ms.C the next time she calls. Ms.C her two darling kids and husband live in Dubai.
Me: I am Sen, good to hear that Ms.C is well settled.
Mrs.C: Yes, all my kids are well settled, my other daughter is working for XYZ company and my son works for ABC Ltd. Nice paying jobs, but, no time, the lifestyle, eating habits, always running, always busy.
Me: Yes it can get busy at times.
Mrs. C: So, How are your kids?
Me (slightly taken aback): I don't have kids.
Mrs.C: How long have you been married?
Me (furious but keeping my calm): I am not married.
Mrs.C (with a perplexed look on her face): Ms. C got married five years ago, you also should get married, it is about time, you know.
Me (rather pointedly): I will get married when I meet the right man.

About five minutes, the other lady asked the driver to stop and got off and it dawned on me that she wasn't with Mrs. C after all.

All this while Mrs.C continued to chatter about the traffic, the dust, the pollution, how difficult it was to travel, her kids, etc while I pretended to give the traffic my undivided attention. I kept nodding at regular intervals and replying in monosyllables when it was not possible to get away with nods. Finally her destination arrived and she got off but signing off in her signature style.

Mrs.C: Thank you for the lift, What were the names of your kids again?? I will tell C about you.

At this point I was willing to throw her out of the rickshaw and if in the process a truck ran over her I would surely watch in glee.

Why can’t people listen to what other say, it looks like listening was out of question for this lady as she was busy singing paeans of her super achieving kids, whose main achievement was their marital status!!!

Why do people just assume that since you are a certain age, you have to be married and have a couple of kids!!!

The next time I meet an old lady in need of a rickshaw, I will look the other way and leaving the good samaritaning to someone else!!!

Moral Science teachings will have to be forgotten!!!