Saturday, March 20, 2010

MVP

Well well...after worrying for a month or so that I was going mad and that it was all in the head, the above mild Mitral Valve buckling is the diagnosis. I have to take betablockers and take is easy with physical and mental exertion. And yes, I must also keep my teeth clean and be careful if I am undergoing any operative procedure. Easy enough !!!!!! :)

Now I know why I get palpitations, hate inclines, get headaches and feel dizzy and arrive in class breathless after climbing one measly floor.

I am ever so relieved.

***
Thought for the day : A known evil is better than an imagined one.

 

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Mensuration....

My maid has hepatitis, so she's resting. This means in spite of a humungous amount of paper correction, the kitchen is my domain. Hmm....I overcome this difficulty by nibbling on Parle Digestive Marie and adipose cell enlarging banana chips. Voila....no cooking. :)

***

Freshly grated ginger added to tea makes for a divine combination. And that's what I set out to brew. 2 tsp tea + 1 tsp sugar + 4 cardamoms + etc. etc. Sigh.

If you look at cook books today, the art of cooking has been reduced to a chemistry experiment. We are assaulted by all sorts of measures - tsp, tbsp, 1/2/3 cup + ml + grams + etc. etc. Did our grandmothers and mothers cook like this? What happened to intuition?

***

Some water + a handful of tea leaves + some sugar + some spices + etc. etc. :) Now I am happy with my intuitive cup of tea.

Inspired, mensuration free cooking...here I come.... :P

***

Thought for the day :

We are so caught up with measurements, that we tend to forget what we are measuring.

Thursday, March 04, 2010

In Memoriam

When it's dark ahead

When it's dark ahead



At times when


it is dark all around ,


all paths left behind


disappear


and nothing


seems to exist ahead


it's best to


stay still ,


and face


anything


and everything

that happens .

                  ~ Manaswini Paladugu

The poem above has been reproduced without the permission of the poet since she has gone where I cannot reach her anymore. But yes, memories still exist. Memories of a spontaneous person with child like enthusiasm for everything that surrounded her. Someone who did not hesitate to go on solitary rambles, or to wander off into the wilderness.