How they make perfect omelets

Do You know to make an omelet? Ask the professional to make it for you. Smart move!!

If you can read the pictures you may follow the procedure.

During my recent trip to Darjeeling, mornings I looked forward to ‘live’ breakfast…haahaha. That’s what the food counter said…’Live Breakfast’ and live was that chef would make for you the omelet the way you like…half fry-sunny side up or plain omelet. I would always ask for same omelet with lots of chillies and onions, although there was a great variety of food on display, I had no appetite to eat any other spicy, heavy stuff like puri bhaji, idli sambar, or any other delicacies so early in the mornings. Normally at home, my breakfast is just a glass of fresh juice. But since I was on holiday, and since I didn’t have to make the breakfast for myself, (yeah, I am too lazy sometimes) I was okay with having breakfast in the mornings. But everyday I stuck to the same menu: egg omelet, baked potatoes, salad and fresh juice; and that kept me cheerful till the lunch time.

While I ate, I couldn’t help looking at other tables and would be surprised with the amount of food that people could eat at every meal. Their plates would be overflowing with food and it got me thinking that must we abuse our stomach just because we have paid for a buffet meals??? Is it so important to taste every dish on display at every meal??? I would watch them help themselves with assorted meals second time, and sometimes third servings!!!

One of our friends in the group was a Jain, and her strict diet of ‘no root’ vegetable restricted her meals. She would order special meals for herself and while she waited for those special meals, she would start munching on bread, jam, sweet dish, fruits and everything that was permitted by her religion. When the food arrived, it would be of big quantity and although she would over eat, still most of it would go waste. At every meal, she would attract attention to herself and throw temper tantrums, (much to our embarrassment) if they didn’t provide her food on time.

I fail to understand why people give so much importance to food. For me, food is just a necessity to remain healthy. If chanced upon eating good food in a fancy restaurant, I might relish, but for me, simple home cooked meal is a delightful treat.

81 year-old-Sindhi Immigrant shares her story

I see her everyday sit by the window and greet every passerby. Her wrinkled face shows the lines of pain. Sita is eighty one years old and is quite happy to find a listener in me. She has many stories to tell and remembers them quite vividly. I sit cross legged, across her and try to listen to her. Her speech is not clear and many times I have to ask her to repeat to understand what she has to relate.

Sita Chatpar was eighteen years old when the partition took place. She remembers the day, when 500 Muslim sardars had barged into her aunts’ magnificent house but they were not able to spot them because all family was hiding under the beds. She talks about the time when curfew was imposed in the city and they sat in darkness fearing violence. On the day of exodus, she and thousands of other Sindhi families boarded the four-storey streamer, to escape the tortures back home. Conversion to Muslim religion was mandatory or else all those who chose to be Hindus had to leave the country. It took them four days to round the trip in the overcrowded streamer, they were off loaded at Mumbai docks and were accommodated at Sindhi refugee camps at military quarters, Kalyan. For three years, she stayed in inhuman condition, sharing the big hall, sub-divided by flimsy curtain. They shared one bathroom amongst fifty families. They were provided with food-ration and blankets. After three years, they moved to a rented house and she took up the job, first as toffee wrapper in a sweets factory and later in the Bajaj electrical company, assembling electrical parts till the company closed down. She , then moved into her married sister’s house to live the rest of her life, helping in the house-hold chores while her brother-in-law (doctor by profession) supported the family.

Life was not easy in Pakistan too. Having lost her father at a very early age, Sita could not pursue her studies after class seven as she was expected to contribute to house hold expenses. She and her six sisters, along with their mother and grand-ma worked during the day, machining, stitching clothes and gowns and other handicraft items which they later sold to the stores. But her face lights up when she talks fondly about Pakistan, where she spent her childhood. She remembers the wide and spotless roads that were cleaned with soap and water twice a day, the market places like ‘Mithidhar’, Kharodhar’, Zori bazar, Khato Sadar, Kagzi Bazar, etc. where she would take her merchandise to sell or go for shopping. She remembers the restaurant where they sold delicious cooked mutton, Tandoori rotis, bhajiyas and dahi wadas. She remembers the Sukhdev Haveli Mandir that she would visit on religious days. They celebrated all kinds of festivals like Holi, Diwali, satto, etc. On Rakhi days, a pandit would come to their house and tie rakhis to all the girls in the house.

The visit to a film was a luxury event done just once a year, there was no radio in the house, the women spend their time singing hymns at the temple where they assembled regularly. At the age of fourteen, her friends were married off to men thrice their age. But Sita never married and has worked to support herself all her life. Presently she lives with her niece and is well looked after.

When I asked her what advice she would give to the youth of today she said that one should not waste too much money on useless items and saving for the rainy day was very important, it is important to be educated in life and have some set goals.

Never leave the comfort of your own home and live a dependent life, she added.

PS: This post was written for “Beyond Sindh’ a tri-monthly magazine published from Hong Kong for which I write regularly. Beyond Sindh magazine delivers the latest topics of interest to the Sindhi Diasporas of today, covering our past, present and future.

Visit to Goddess Kali Temple in Kolkata

As soon as we got off the car, few pundits surrounded us, offering us their service by praying for us for a fee. What special way would they pray for me that Mata Kali would listen to them instead of direct communication with me? I shooed them away, preferring a direct interview with Goddess Kali.

There were narrow lanes leading to Kali temple. Every shop wanted us to deposit our foot-wear with them. I was not willing to walk bare foot down those lanes. There was too much dirt, filth, used flowers, junk and water at some places. I ignored all the shop keepers until I reached the entrance of the temple. Here was this lady selling big garland of flowers, holding in her hand like some heavy weight champion. I bought the garland from her for just Rs10 and deposited my foot wear with her.

Bare footed, I walked inside the temple, through the dirty path. My feet itched at every step. I could feel the crushing of flowers under my feet, the juice sticking under my soles, the floor was slippery and I held on to stone-wall for support, taking smaller steps, trying to maintain my balance. The garland was a bit too long and although I had folded it around my arm, it dangled under my knee. One flower-seller wanted me to buy some more flowers from him. He said that the flowers garland that I was carrying had touched the ground and that I needed to discard it. He kept repeating, telling me the Goddess Kali would be upset with my carelessness if I offered her ‘dirty’ flowers that had touched the ground, but I ignored him. I walked toward the idol and pundit grabbed the garland from my hand and held my arm. He pulled me in front of the idol and asked me to give some money. Why was he asking me for money? If I wanted to donate some cash, I would do so without anybody forcing me. I looked at the idol of Goddess Kali, a large black stone with large white eyes, surrounded by flowers and brocade, flashy clothes, I closed my eyes, looking for a image of my Lord within my mind and offered my silent prayers and suddenly I was pushed aside to make way for new devotees. The place was too crowded, sweat clinged to me and it felt as if the message was that if I was not willing to part with my money then it was better that I moved aside. Was Goddess Kali angry with me for not parting with my cash? In crowded place, I don’t normally open my purse. I reasoned out that Goddess Kali would understand and would not punish me for my stingy behavior. I walked with the guilt towards exit.

Guilt disturbed me. A thought lingered that the punishment would be severe. I was afraid. I prayed again. I turned back and walked to the sweet shop. I bought 100 grams pedas. I spoke to Goddess Kali telling her that I had spent the money by buying the sweets from a person who was trying to earn a living. I had given him the business of Rs20. Surely Goddess Kali should be happy with me. The Rs20 that I had not inserted into her charity box was instead put into box of the person who was working hard. I was being fair. Goddess Kali should be pleased with my intelligent spending.

Guilt free, I popped the pedas into my mouth, one by one.

Air trip from Mumbai to Kolkata

“Okay! Now move over, I need window seat”
“But you asked for aisle seat”
“Oh! I forgot, I wanted window seat actually”
“Hmmmn”
“You know you are not suppose to take pictures from airplane”
“Why?”
“For security reasons”
“But I am not a terrorist, I just clicked for remembrance”
“What remembrance? That you once travelled in an airplane?”
“Grrh! I have traveled hundreds of times; just want a birds eye view of Mumbai and Kolkata”
“On one condition”
“What?
“That you don’t talk after every picture that you take and irritate me”
“Fine, promise”
“Look, click that one”
“Okay!”
"Oh My God!Mumbai airport looks neat!
"Yeah! it does"

“Did you remove that one?”
“Yeah”
"Look! Look! Look! the river is there"
"Yep, I can see that"

“And that one”

“Yeah! I am clicking”
"Mumbai buildings look like matchboxes na"
"Yeah! they do"

“You have the correct angle? Huh?”
"yeah"
"Kolkata has so many trees"
"hmmn"

"Oh yeah we are landing, click, click, click, click na"
“Yep”

“Look there is Kolkata”
“I know, Ma!”

Finally, the trip was good...let me check the pictures please.
You are sometimes so clumsy, If I were not there ,you would remove all faltu pictures.

True! Sigh!

Fatal Ecstasy (55-er)

“Help me, please?”
She urged. Her monotone, consumed by desperation, twanged
“Give me some more.”
The spasms came again, she screamed
Loud shrill resonated.
Silence
He lay next to her still body, lust overpowering his contentment.
“I must buy some more of those pills”
He mumbled. Covetousness thundered again.
The wicked grin eclipsed his face.