O - Orotti and Patthiri

You know one of those memories from your childhood that aren’t really special, so to speak, but will always stay with you? Allow me to share one of those.

I was maybe 12? 13? I remember wearing my favorite ‘home’ skirt and tattered tee that Mum never really liked and standing by the slab in the kitchen as Grandma fired up the gas stove and set the girdle on it.

There is this thing at home, whenever the older ladies of the family are doing housework, it is the duty of the girls in the house to offer to help them. I remember hating this rule growing up for it meant me having to offer to do odd jobs in the kitchen like bring chillies from the fridge, wash the parsley and coriander and peel onions, when I could very well be snuggled up with chocolate fudge and Harry Potter.  

Anyway, there I was standing in the hot kitchen with nothing much to do but unable to go back to my room when Grandma started telling me the recipe to make what she was making. She added water to rice flour, put some stuff in it that made the dough smell heavenly (zeera, coconut and salt, basically). The girdle was hot and ready by then, she ladled a bit of oil and started patting down a ball of dough onto it – all the while giving me instructions on how many ways there are to mess it up and how not to. I remember thinking the edges were broken and when I would make them, they would have perfectly rounded edges.  

While about twenty of them were being cooked - Grandma kept up a constant chatter about how it was a Malappuram dish and how she had seen her grandma make it on a choolha when she was a kid and all that. Then she proceeded to whip up a liquid out of seemingly innocent coconut milk with crunchy brown onions floating in it and whatnot.

Then she set me down a plate on the kitchen table and had me ‘taste’ it (this was an advantage of/reward for sticking around in the kitchen, I get to sample everything in large quantities). I have to say, by all the Gods of the realm, I have never had better orotti and patthiri. Or any kind of food for that matter.

 
She has never made it after that. I have never known what to ask for, if at all it is available in hotels. But that memory and the taste of those pancakes (for lack of a better word) remain with me, vivid and colorful, complete with how it tasted, till date. 

FMS Prompts: # 1...

...that thing that happened in high school that pretty much changed your life forever.

***

I lost a friend.

In Grade 10, she sat next to me. She was a nice person, always smiling, always ready to help. But you know how high school kids can get, I was snooty about how much she talked to boys (trust me, I want to go back and slap myself too). But we still were good friends, we got through our first hurdle in the academic world, board exams, together. And in Grade 11, she shifted to another section but we still had lunch together, all of us. I loved the alu sabzi that her mom used to send with her lunch and she always put a little extra in my dabba while it was being passed around.

I think she had always liked me more than I liked her.

I remember the day clearly,  classes had been cancelled and three of us were sitting there in the last bench and laughing our heads off without any reason. You know, one of those times when you start laughing at ANYTHING and you can’t stop even though your stomach hurts - two straight hours at the end of the day we laughed.

That’s when three other friends came and said that this girl had passed away, nobody knew what happened and why. I sobered up like someone doused me with cold water but I didn’t believe it. I thought someone was playing a big, fat, sick prank. Then her Class In-Charge confirmed the news.

I won’t go into any more detail but to this day none of us know what happened to her, all we know was that she had asthma. I just never saw her after that, like she never existed except in my mind and memories.

The absolute worst part is that I didn’t remember the last time I spoke to her, the last conversation, exchange we had. I still can’t remember.

Her mom came to see us when we passed out of school and it was all I could do not to run away because I kept thinking how she would feel seeing all of us decked up and happy when her daughter wasn’t around.

I remember feeling incredibly guilty for being alive when she wasn’t.

And it subtly changed a 16 year old forever. From then on I have always kept a certain distance from people. I have made but one friend who is super close, everyone else was and is dispensable. I know it doesn’t say much for me as a friend but when I love, I love wholly without restraint, without any kind of self-preservation and if I lose that person, I know I won’t be strong enough to handle the devastation.

It took me a long time to work out why I never made the first move to make friends (because otherwise I am not antisocial and I love to horse around with everyone), I never keep in touch completely, I never put my all into keeping my friends together like everyone my age does. It might not be the lesson I should have learnt but yeah.

Dharani, I will always remember you for that million-watt genuinely happy smile that you were so ready with.

***

P.S: Sorry about kicking off on a sad note.

P.P.S: Leave your prompt challenge post links in the comments, please.

Misty Memories - February & March

New awardee!!

***

This is a continuation if the Monthly Memories Challenge started here.

FEBRUARY

Even with a track record of two stable relationships right from when I was fifteen, surprisingly, February doesn’t remind me of Valentine’s Day.  I’m shocked at myself but then, I haven’t had a truly memorable Feb 14^th till date (*clearing throat* You hear, Mr. Nanda?:P)

February has always brought with it, a feeling of the end getting nearer. The end of the school year, I mean. When almost all the lessons have been completed, the brown covers of the note books are peeling off and the white tennis shoes are brown and scruffy.

February also reminds me of my Grade 10 Physics board practical. Till before that, I’d never been nervous for I always knew everything there was to know about the subject of exam (it was a combination of me being a nerd and my mother taking active interest in my studies :|), but I was shivering before this one.

I kept making mental exclamations.

“I have forgotten my hall ticket!”
“The examiner is going to play favorites!”
“What if I don’t get the result!”
“What if I do the calculation wrong!”
“What if my pencil point breaks and I can’t draw!”
“What if I get the prism experiment!”

Here, I’ll say, that the prism experiment was hated by one and all with a vengeance because it was the most complicated of all fifteen we had for study.

I prayed to all the God’s I’d ever heard of before I picked my lot and surprise, surprise! The examiner handed me the prism and paper and sent me off on my way to the last table. It was as if he thought that I was going to screw it all up, given my penchant for all things science.

But for once in my life, science didn’t fail me and I got the right result with full marks. Maybe I wasn’t as stupid as I thought after all :D

And every February, I look back and smile and marvel at how long I have come after that first practical.

MARCH

Exams. What else. Not my favorite month, not by a long shot.

The worst was again during my Grade 10 boards, because by 12^th, I’d decided that nothing I studied then was going to be of any use in life and I stopped caring)

I remember one cold, chilly morning (read: 2 a.m, because I wasted time at night doodling the name of my then crush in the margins of the book) sitting huddled in a not-so-comfortable couch, trying to finish the last two lessons in Zoology, cursing everyone including the cats and dogs for not having to wake up that early. I especially hated my siblings (whom I shared a room with then) for sleeping so soundly and cozily, while I had to try not to fall asleep while studying immunization techniques. 

And March in college/hostel is synonymous to sticky heat, sun burn, talking multiple baths a day and resultant piling up of clothes to wash. Did I mention sticky heat?

Only two things make my March’s slightly bearable, Grandpa’s birthday and the countdown to mine.

What are your memories of Valentine’s day? How crappy were your March’s?

Misty Memories - January

2011 gave me goodies and made me bite dust, all too often, that I can’t decide whether it has been good or bad. Yes, I have started saying my goodbyes to the year that closes in exactly fifteen days and this challenge gives me an opportunity to do it, memorably. Thank you, Nimue.

It’s quite simple actually, capturing the essence of what each month in a year has had to offer to date in my life. I had never really thought about it but it turns out I do have special memories associated with each month.

JANUARY

The year’s new and I’m always full of resolutions. Some that I pretended to keep and some that just collected dust in the nooks of my head. Prayers for the year to be better, to be kinder than the last and wishful yearnings for gifts that I failed to receive the year gone by… wishes, some good and some wicked like the time I wanted the shopkeeper to stub his toe.

Also a month (in 1999) that took away my mother for more than a week, the longest I have ever gone without her till date. I missed her sorely and spent time bunking school and seeking comfort in her nightie that smelt of her.  I didn’t understand why I couldn’t visit her in the hospital either.

But when she came back she had a fat bundle in her hand. I was delighted when two huge, coal-black eyes peeped out curiously out of the bundle and the rose-bud mouth pouted as though, even then, he knew that I would be his best frenemy.

I shrieked with joy, literally. I wasn’t a single child anymore.

January will always be special for 7 days into the month, it gave me a handsome devil of a brother, one whose hair I’ll gladly pull out for over-heating my laptop, for making me BEG him to take a bath every single day, for all the dirty nappies he made me dispose, for snitching me out to Amma, for discovering all my hidden stashes of chocolates, for being taller than me at age 12 and being annoyingly better than me at Math.

But it becomes worth it when I tie him a rakhi and he promises to take care of me, once a year.

I dread to think of a January without him and his birthdays, he adds spark friggin' fire to it.

What are your special January memories?

-He-

One person

He makes all the difference...

His presence can make your days

 Dreamy and light

And full of hope for that beautiful future you envision all day...

He can make you smile

Even through the sniffling sobs

When that great oaf of a teacher 

Made you cry...

 His warm hands holding yours safe

Making you trust him

All that much more... 

His twinkling eyes

Ones that he listens to your rants with,

Makes you think he's laughing at you

Until he starts ranting against them

With you...

The husky, entirely male smell

Sends tingles through your being

Of unspoken promises yet to be fulfilled...

The way he looks up from his game
Just to look at you cross the room
Like he's never seen a sexier woman
And still manages to make you feel like a lady

His one breath

takes away your breath

His one look 

Sets you on fire...

His eyes that can look into your very soul, 

Sends messages from across the room

Making you feel

Like it's only you and him there..

His gentle touch that kisses your cheek
Assures you more than his non-expressive words.
The same callused hand that is raised against
That ass in the theater who dared look at you...

His attempts to surprise you senseless
With that straggly kitten
All tied up with a bow
His attempts that make you smile
From the depths of your wee li'l heart...

And his absence?

 Sucks the life out of life,

The thrill out of thrill,

The love out of love,

And the joy out of joy.

Same P.S: I do not intend to scare you with my horrible poems, it wasn't intended to be one nor am I any good at making poems or making them rhyme; they are just random lines inspired by another attempt made on D.O.V:)

P.P.S: I'll be back with something better once I get out this dreary hostel and am tucked away safely in the most beautiful places in Kerala, my BFF's home (weekend trip.. YAY!!)

P.P.S.S: Whatcha think of the whole noo' look??:)

The Month That Was.. August

August was a bitter chocolate chip cookie – bit into bitter pieces here and there but didn’t deter me from enjoying the cookie.

Anna Hazare dominated everyone’s lives (atleast mine) and the news as well. Independence Day just reminded me of how my country is going to the dogs, yet again. Didn't stop me from being inordinately proud of her though.

A full-of-birthdays month. I didn't get the first birthday cake :|I hold a grudge.

And started calling everybody 'the mantal bwoy'. 

A much awaited anniversary day, which was forgotten by who was supposed to remember, quickly became one of my Top Ten Favorite Moments in Life. The temporary amnesia was forgiven and forgotten (which is rare considering I'm an Arian).

A mostly important birthday came. And went. I wished and I didn’t get acknowledged. And that was the end of whatever little relationship there was.

Yet another realization:

 

Ragged a few juniors. Reminisced about how we came in the first year.

Gokulastami happened. And I fell in love with my own sari. Maybe they aren’t that bad after all.

I yearned for some good food and took out all my frustration on my blog. And instantly felt guilty for all the Muslims were fasting. I felt mean. 

Craved a Choco Lash Krusher from KFC for the whole month, one that was fulfilled by Mum yesterday. Twice over.

Found out MSM's real name:) So very pretty, it is <3

And promised myself I would stop writing such loooong posts.

And promised myself that I would stop procrastinating writing down the stories in my head. Again.

And my tattoo obsession is growing.

How do you write 'peace' in Arabic or Urdu?

And I wrote a quote, first ever:

“If you were single when I met you. Or if I were single when you met me.

Maybe things would have been different.

A story that ended before it even started.”

What d’ya think?

Oh and September, how YOU doin’?

P.S: Eid Mubarak and Ganesh Chaturthi ki shubhkaamnayein. Festivals come in tandem; maybe we should celebrate them together as well?

P.P.S: Anybody willing to teach me Urdu? A little bit will do.

P.P.S.S: Do check out this story. DO. 

15 Day Challenge: Day 9

10 random things I remember from school

1) 'Bond' sir's roll call going Friyanka, Frafram (Prabhuram) and so on.

2)Hearing desperate noises from desperately hungry stomachs before lunch hour.

3) 'Watching' volleyball matches from the balcony.

4) The post-lunch-Mentos-buying from the canteen.

5) Dog-biscuits xD

6) The million gazillion after-school (for lack of a better word) sessions at Gaya's place.

7) All the commotion about The Relationships.

8) Horsing around in Hindi class, crying in Business Maths class.

9) The movie after the boards.

10) The conversations Lyndz, Rosie and Frankie had on those top steps.

....can I go on?

I miss school :'(

9 down, 6 to go.

15 Day Challenge: Day 4

Earliest thing I can remember

This one is easy.

The earliest memory I have is of playing on a mound of sea sand with what I called 'koala' beans.

(I later discovered that it was rajma :P)

4 down, 11 to go:)

The Bleus

So finally after a month of holidays (lazy, LAZY ones), I'm going back to the college hostel. 

I don't want to go=(

The thing is, till now I used to look forward to going because while home means a lot to me, hostel was always a place where I've had the most fun in my entire life. I have the good fortune of being blessed with such awesome friends that hostel ruled \m/ xD. That, in spite of the rest of the shitty stuff that goes with college and the hostel wardens.

Nothing has changed. Everybody is still there. Hostel's still the same old, same old.

But I am NOT looking forward to it=/

And I have no clue why.

Packing and cleaning up my room has just gotten me so down that you can't even see the dumps.

The blue feeling.

Go away.