Skip to main content

Distress of Spices

Once upon in the far away land called San Francisco lived a drop dead gorgeous young lady who had never stepped a foot out of her shop. She was forbidden. Like the Lady of Shallot, she viewed the world from her shop window, and chatted with her spices for company. Perhaps there speech was easier for her to understand than the assortment of accents floating around.

There were stray customers, ex-pat indians, who were finding it hard to understand why their young grand daughters, born and bred in the USA wore make up, didn't wear a bra and wanted to marry for love. After all THEY had never loved Their wives, and it never hurt them. The girl listened and made pickles for them.

She was also forbidden from touching another skin. In fact this disheartened her so much that she gave up all the attempts at dating as the spice made very effective chaperon.

Every time a handsome hunk passed by the shop on his Bullet, the spices all gathered around the girl, and hissed and booed him away, chilli being the rudest, loudest and noisiest.

One day this situation went too far. The Bullet Dude entered the shop. The girl started breaking rules and hell broke loose in the Spiceland. The Spice sulked. Even after her repeated entreaties, the turmeric won’t look at her, the saffron turned away disdainfully, Cinnamon stuck her tongue out, chilli was the most offensive, and kept muttering rude words under her breath. The Big Brother ( or Sister) Spice just doesn’t like Love.

The girl was quite quite upset. Spice was not talking to her! She tried to reason with them and cajole them into accepting the fact that she needed a life, but cumin, tulsi , ginger, garlic, bay leaf, cinnamon and pepper, both black and white variety, turned quite hostile and started doing evil things to her customers, burning their tongues and breaking relationships ( other people’s. The Girl’s own relationship with the Bullet was hunky dory. )

Mean while the hunk on Bullet developed a liking for spice, in spite of the chilly who was busy hissing curses at him meanly ( perhaps she reminded him of his ex ). He didn’t know why he kept coming back. We all thought it was to get yet one more dekko at the girl, but in reality it was because of Tulsi tea. He developed an addiction and had to have his daily fix of the spices. The revenge of the spices was complete.

What happens after this should be seen on the screen or your nearest grocery store. If you can imagine the guy behind the counter as Aiswarya it will be a big help. Just request him to pout and wiggle his bushy eye brows continuously
Or better still, go to your own kitchen, put oil on the fire and make a tadka using every spice imaginable. Make sure you have a hunk standing right next to you touching you seductively. Chillies will hiss, spit and get spicier that way.

Moral of the story- Learn to respect the Chillis.

The unforgettable scene- The girl and the Dude rolling on the bed of red chilli.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A credit card for free.

“ This is for you ma’am, compliments of the store”. The attendant at the cash counter handed me a credit card. I pushed it away as if it was on fire.
“ No thanks. I don’t use them much. And I have one already.”
The attendant looked at me pityingly. I always have this horrid suspicion that attendant kids always pity me.
Next twenty minutes were spent explaining to me, how , with the shop’s own ‘Privileged customer’ card and the additional credit card I was going to save thousands of rupees, not to mention earn brownie points and win free gifts like diamond earrings, DVD players, and a free trip to Goa.
“ And ma’am, it’s free!” That clinched the matter. A free card can’t hurt me much, can it?

After reaching home I pushed the unwanted card at the back of my desk drawer, and forgot about it. One year was over. And I started receiving bills for the never used card. I questioned the shop, and reminded them that they had said – Free card, no service charges.
“ Only for one year ma’am! Now you w…

Kala Ghoda- Sonal Mansingh

I went to Kala Ghoda in severe conflict about what to see and what to do. This was one of the time when you feel like having a few clones and catch the whole show.But friend Ajita won, and we headed for Horniman Circle gardens to attend Sonal Mansingh’s Odissi performance.The evening was cool and breezy, the gardens were filling up fast. We could see the patron Goddesses of the event, Brinda Miller, Devika Bhojwani and Sarayu Doshi flitting around, getting show started.The ceremonial Lamp refused to stay lit. Finally the lamp was announced as “lit” behind the shelter of a file, and the show started. And what a show it was!I was all prepared to give a nod to Culture and then rush over to watch Soparkar’s Troup “Dancing in the streets “. But that was only till Sonal started her first piece, devoted to Goddess Maatangi, the patron goddess of all arts. From now on “Bhavani Dayani” will always look like Sonal.There was something of a sybil in her whole persona. Her goddess was not an eth…

Let's start at the very beginning...

My impressions of Dubai airport are blurred thanks to a fast moving airport cart with me sitting backwards. I am uncomfortable sitting facing backwards in any vehicle. One always likes to see where one is going. Sitting with our back to the driver is kind of heading into the unknown and we see things only in retrospect - if you get the meaning. I saw high ceiling, lights all over, arches galore ( I think ) people everywhere and a vastness of proportion which was not unpleasant. It was the " Topi Ud Gayi " kind of place that interests and overwhelms you at the same time.  If airports can be thought to be masculine or feminine, then Dubai airport struck me as a feminine airport, in soft colors, decked up and scintillating. What ever my other impressions, my most fixed memory will be the driver singing ' dani dani dani daaaani '! He was a handsome guy with a high energy even at 2.30. I wish he had sung the next line. Maybe the next time I visit Dubai...

The 17 hr fligh…