the zen dosai...

There is a wonderful sense of perfection in seeing a round drop of dosai maavu grow in size as I smear it into a bigger and bigger circle, till it covers the entire pan on the stove. The ridges appear in concentric circles, as the ladle moves around, spreading the batter. Then the tiny bubbles spark up and make small holes all across the surface. A teeny bit of oil along the sides and the cover goes on top of the pan. as the glass gets cloudy, with the vapor, i take it off, before the drips start to fall off the roof of the cover. the dosai slides off the pan bottom, as beautifully, as a piece of circular paper - golden brown on one side and a perfect creamy ridged surface on the other - thin, semi-transparent golden brown strips alternating with spongy white circles.

eaten with molaga podi and nallennai...

The ARCs that I have noticed...

MARC - Madras Assisted Reproduction Center
AARC - Apollo Assisted Reproduction Center

What is the big deal with a biological child that people would pay huge sums of money to hospitals to go through the whole deal?!!!

The gift of the Magi??

A year since we met...
A gift might be appropriate?
What if we have married since?
Become different people from the ones we were then...
Would you marry me once again?!!

P. James magic show...

He saw the chap dipping a brush into the mug of black paint that he had deposited on the side of the platform and write

P. James
magic show
9841119873

He had seen this sign across the city. On platforms, on telephone booths, bus shelters, behind buses, lavatories. He stopped near the man, whom he presumed to be P. James and asked him "so, what magic can you do?"

"hmm? - all the normal stuff - I can make things appear, disappear, remain suspended in air, produce an egg from your bottom, pull rabbits and doves out of caps and duppattas, cut a cloth into pieces and rejoin it in front of your eyes... Would you like me to perform for you sir? This is my card..."

"No, no - I was just curious. Thanks for explaining."

"oh - ok. I have to go and write my contact number in ten more places for the day. bye. and can I have my card back, please?"

the Cycle

boil the milk, make the coffee, shower, laundry, water the plants, clean up the kitchen, lock the house, drive to work, work, phone calls, meetings, drive back, clean the house, cook, serve, eat, do the dishes, sex, sleep, boil the milk, make the coffee, shower, laundry, water the plants, clean up the kitchen, lock the house, drive to work, work, phone calls, meetings, drive back, clean the house, cook, serve, eat, do the dishes, sex, sleep, boil the milk...

The strength of the chain lies in its weakest link.

Fate, luck and God...

Fate and Luck are events...
God is not?
Fate and Luck are factors that influence events
God does not?
Maybe - God plays dice
Loaded ones...
Maybe - God knows the answers
if there are any to know...
Maybe - there are no answers, for the question is lost
it is just 42...

If God were somewhere human...
Would God Shit? Suffer menstrual cramps? and migraine head aches? have sex? enjoy it? be bothered about population explosion and resource management? and global warming? About new stars being born? About teen trouble... and mid-life crisis??? Quite a cup full, hmm?!

72 hours

They die a thousand deaths
waiting to hear that he would live...

Manoranjitha.

A flower that smells like what your heart desires...

I HATE shopping!!!

Emancipation from the tresses!

She had conquered the numbers so long ago...

and the laws of Newton and Galleleo;

had fallen asleep cracking codes

and could quote

the bard with the same ease

as she could paint the skies and the seas!

But, what fears she faced
as she sat on the chair!
with lights turned on and
choices abound
Now came the dresser
to make her call...
To determine if her choice
would take the fall!

She had frizzy hair!
Not the kind that would tumble down
to curve around, a face so fair!
She wanted to wear a shorter crown
But the dresser said
"curls wont look good on you, my dear;
neither would short hair
you should wear it long and tie it back
and maybe gel it down, to get it slack"

To hell with the dressers thoughts, she decided -
even if it meant looking like a polliwog, uncapped!
She would have her hair cut short,
and love her frizz, curls and what not!
As the tresses fell,
she wondered about the face that would result
and the questions that would swell
around a simple summer haircut!

Beneath the dressers cloak,
she unclasped her crossed fingers
and slowly opened her eyes
to see the unfamiliar face in the surrounding mirrors
What a difference the loss of tresses made!
The need for approval by now fade
into the recesses of her mind
as she reveled in herself - her sparkling new find!

image courtesy: http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Theater/9876/hole-haircut.jpg

moonshine and all that blah~!

Seen a yellow moon?
- hanging precariously from the sky;
or maybe - it is floating up there
like a helium balloon...

Held back by threads
and will ?
Or wobbling and pulling
the holder to heights never imagined!

Who holds what
becomes the question,
as Aprils pass in tropical warmth.
Fear and curiosity
Wax and wane
Alternately...

how addictive can it be?

He stops and gets off the bike in a rush. The "potti kadai" is busy with the evening rush of BPO crowd - youngsters in their early twenties, who have sufficient money to be able to afford more than the sneaky once-a-weekend-in-the-beach cigarette packet. His only thought by now, is to get the smoke and inhale it. It has been nearly two hours!

She watches him, as he inhales deeply - the helmet on his head and wonders...

Bubblesome...

A faint thread of thought just surfaced. peeped out a bit to feel the air, if it was going to be a warm reception or a struggle getting out. Wondering if it should perhaps take a brief breath of air and dive down once again to resurface in another head...

Kites swimming across a black sky - like sperms...

Sunday afternoon....

The letters seemed to float in her eyes. She shook her head and started over from the beginning of the paragraph. Two lines later, her mind soaked in the warm afternoon heat and the beautiful music more than the contents of the book. He was completing the application, Mozart playing in the background... He would be gone by next fall. The music lulled her to sleep, curling on her side. The faint chillness of the cement floor falling away as her body warmed the surface it came into contact with. She lay still, in an blissfully inbetween state of a relaxing semi-sleep. Just conscious of the music being played for her and the necessity to stay still so that the chillness would not touch her. Mozart - so good to sleep with.