Right it out

Isn’t it funny how much time, energy and emotion we put into and onto people, events and activities that don’t do anything good for you. Well, I certainly have wasted precious hours and copious tears on irrelevant matters and am sure will do so in the future but hopefully less and less.

I haven’t written for so long and it’s a shame really for myself (I know I don’t have a gala of expectant readers waiting for my next post...or do I, now!?) since this is an activity that can be quite therapeutic and reflective. In my self-created whirlwind of mental activity (read: confusion) expressing my thoughts out does help clear the dusty haze a little bit and help me see beyond these distracting clouds of confusion that I seem to be walking through now a days.

So, Sunday NOTE TO SELF: Write it out

Back to what I like discussing: Food and Movies in the city; and I have lots of updates on both.

Let’s start with the food feature of the post, #Gagganrock (the official hashtag) up in Mumbai last weekend. The 36 year old maverick chef Gaggan Anand hit the city of Mumbai with a series of private sit-down dinners and also some twitter-advocated roaming food trucks, hitting a large audience from well-traveled palettes to the aam after-work aadmi.....True to his flamboyant style, he pulled off quite a show and had enough tongues wagging on the subject of his food and his craft. Here is a guy with quite a bio to reckon with, starting young, working hard and rebelling early. He is currently based in the city of Bangkok with his award winning, eponymous titled restaurant, Gaggan. Having the chance of dining at it precisely one year ago, it was a meal that I certainly haven’t forgotten. Experiencing his food lab was quite an experience and I vividly remember all that I ate (12 courses!) and drank. The concept is pretty easy, there’s three offers on the menu, going from a basic 10 course to 12 course and lastly, 15 course offer. Beyond that is his growing wine cellar and of course, the lab continues to experiment with its Gaggan signature cocktails. I will never forget his imaginative interpretation of a Long Island Iced Tea. 

The food concept stems from molecular gastronomy (he continues to collaborate with El Bulli) and I know that the chef doesn’t like the use of that word (molecular) but essentially it really is that. Every course of your meal is an act in a play, making the experience like going to the theatre. In Mumbai, I was lucky to plus-one myself to a privately hosted dinner with other patrons of highly discerning taste (think hoteliers, food critics, corporation heads and other chefs). My mother had been most looking forward to this evening as she had not been with us in BKK, and had to make do with our rave-reviews on it. 

Ironically enough, she was left untouched by the Gaggan experience and perhaps even a little hungry, if that is possible at the end of 15 courses! Yes, the food is a bit gimmicky and I felt I had “been there, done that”.  Indian food is challenging to experiment with and I am coming to believe that perhaps it is too tough to do a proper cross-over cuisine with our Desi dishes - they are better enjoyed the good ol’ fashioned way. Pretty plates and quirky names do make dishes amusing, but don’t entirely work at making it tasty. Especially for an Indian diner who craves something a bit more real and substantial, more so when he is paying a steep price for the meal. This kind of food works better to the more gentle taste-buds of travelers.

 I would give Gaggan a huge kudos for his originality, creativity and crazy-food-scientist approach..he his only at the helm of his career and am certain his innate intelligence and rockstar personality will propel him to the better and greater. I look forward to trying his food some years at another international destination. Keep the Indian flag flying high!

So Fresh - a caviar and nitrogen infused sorbet-esque cocktail

I am not your Michelin-star going gal, but a few months ago, I stumbled into a delightful restaurant in Grenada that was in the that I was staying at. My favourite meal of my entire vacation was at La Fábula Restaurante under the guidance of Chef Ismael Delgado. Nothing beats eating dinner at 8 pm with the sun still out, in a lovely courtyard with fountain et all in a charming and historic town with flamenco music playing some where down the street as dinner-time music. With a giant rose stuck furiously in my hair, an accessory that I felt necessary for the flamenco performance I would go to watch later that evening, I was the first guest to the restaurant that evening. In Spain, people don’t eat before 10 pm so the kitchen was not up and about. Luckily, I had told the Front Desk that dinner couldn’t be later as I would then miss the performance, something i didn’t want to have to do given my one night in Grenada. The Chef was telephoned and he agreed to serve me early. He was charming and confident, asking us a few key questions (allergies, food preference and wine preference) and told me to trust him with what would soon arrive to the table...Okay then. When in Rome....

Soon came a whimsical plate of what I thought was table art only to realise it was the Amuse Bouche sent by the Chef. and amusing it certainly was! Have a look:

Too cute to eat, but of course I did!

A special fork for my fish entree

Each of the items, was delicious and different. every bite unraveled a novel taste and sensation. The local white wine selected by the maitre’d was terrific. I would return to that town for the wonderful Gilda. Pure and light, like water....The two courses that followed were magical as well. Real food, no tricks. Dessert was skipped in favour of some more vino. Here was a chef who otherwise served dinner to his patrons over an average meal-time of 2 hours, 15 minutes and didn’t want to lower his style because I had to scamper off and eat an exquisite meal so hastily. He was humble yet proud and spent time explaining his creations. 

In the case of both these chefs who were similarly aged and had each gone through the discipline of working as executive chefs with leading hotel groups in international destinations; they also got the extra mark because of the way they handled their supporting staff and team, introducing each by name and telling me (the diner) on what that person was good at. This goes a long way when building a career and creating a positive dining experience and developing a dedicated group of patrons who would in fact, think of re-visiting a city only to go back to these restaurants for an inspiring meal.

Things that make me go mmm....Manish Dayal as Hassan in the Hundred Foot Journey currently tops that list. We know that girls get very impressed with guys who do good in the kitchen. So when you are served the most delectable omlette from the hands of an awfully cute baawarchi with his molten-chocolate eyes maintaining a steady gaze as you take that first bite, it is easy to say that it’s going to be one of the best eggs you might ever have! The wonderfully charming movie with its heart-breaking young leads (Manish Dayal and Charlotte Le Bon) and the fantastic cast made this movie one of my favourite food movies of all times. In the same week I watched Chef and enjoyed it thoroughly too. In this case, the chef in question was definitely no Hasan but his young son was certainly a cutie! 
Both movies are very different, but food is a basic and universal theme and when a foodie movie keeps it real and doesn’t stray away from the essence, it turns out well. Both movies dealt with the delicate and oft turbulent relationship between a father and son. Also, important to note is that both movies the male protagonists would never have enjoyed the success that they did, if there wasn't the support and prod given by the feminine forces in their lives. 

South Mumbai is in need for independent eateries and with a growing dining culture, hungry mumbaikars always look forward to something new opening up. Japanese food has been a worldwide favourite for the past 10 odd years and Mumbai seems to have lately got a couple of new japo joints. High up on my must try list is Saizen (the old Tetsuma) in Colaba, which has gotten encouraging reviews for food and value. Yukka another new one at the snazzy Palldium hotel has generated a bit of a buzz with the swish set. I am yet to hear very positive recommendations on it to make me venture to it. A little earlier, Guppy by Ai opened its Mumbai kitchen at the Racecourse. I have been to the Delhi restaurant twice and enjoyed it sufficiently for its kitschy vibe and fair food. Its Mumbai counterpart is apparently not very good and over-priced. Since I like stand-alone restaurants, I plan to give it a go soon too and decide for myself. Hold the wasabi until then.

I had a rather mellow weekend and a particularly homely Sunday. I did a bit of food-labbing myself today recycling last night’s dinner leftovers today at lunch with a Tandoori chicken salad, which turned out very good. And for dinner, I attempted  to stay healthy with a sesame-crusted baked salmon filet. The outcome was very average making me a bit anxious of my culinary skills since cooking salmon is for kitchen dummies. 

It is really peculiar that the most well-known chefs around the world and in India are all men. Including the baawarchis and maharajas that work in our homes. Yet, it is assumed that women must be able to cook simply because we are the fairer sex and this is what the universe (men folk) expect of us. Our God given destiny!!! Clearing through that controversy chef Ritu Dalmia. A really inspiring female chef who has been consistently dishing out  excellent food and series of Diva restaurants to lucky diners in the capital city. She is no Tarla Dalal or Nigella Lawson and has the spunk, talent and discipline to make it bigger. My little wish is for her to find a spot in Mumbai soon - we need you here!!

As I make way to get it RIGHT, I hope to write again soon, but don't be too mad if I am spending time on mastering the art of preparing the essential yellow dal and the perfectly round roti - diaries of Belan Babe out soon! 

A longer way up

A trip to Eros DVD-wala in Fort is an absolute essential for all of us 20 and 30 somethings living in South Bombay. Eros DVD is somewhat of an institution - this hallowed place is an actual sub-terrain cave in a dilapidating colonial building in Fort. The guys running the (illegal) show have chosen their shop location carefully (safe, hidden location AND the first Starbucks to hit the city is a across the street) and are absolutely current with movies and TV shows, airing internationally. 

The Fort area is the heart of the original city of Bombay and is the oldest part of the city. It is still shakily holding onto its place as the historical commercial center of the city and is always bustling with working bodies, darting through its old, winding gullies.

I digress.

A few days ago, I had stopped by good ol' efficient Eros and quickly updated my DVD library and last evening I watched a movie from that lot - "A Long Way Down"

                                                            <<Movie Spoiler Alert! >>

A peculiar tale of 4 strangers who find themselves one fateful New Years' eve upon the rooftop of a buildng in central London, ready to take the plunge down…towards their end.

Of course neither of the four actually end up jumping and they eventually "rescue" one another from the crises that has driven them to this point in the first place.

The unlikely foursome make a bizarre pact which keeps them together for at least 6 more weeks. The turn of affairs is when they wake up on the 2nd of January to see their faces all over the brit tabloids for two of them are public figures. Martin (Brosnan), a famous TV personality who has lost all social status when he is caught with a minor girl - tearing up his career, popularity and most importantly, family. And Jess (pretty Ms. Poots) whose known for her famous politician father and the tragic and mysterious disappearance of her older sister. Martin, who craves for the public attention he is so used to thrive on decides that the foursome must embrace this new found fame and they get onto live television, give interviews and come up with an amusing story of the "angel" that rescued them that chilly night. Following which, the four of them become tabloid fodder and get hounded by the press and papparazi looking to further sensationalize this event. Overwhelmed by the media frenzy, they seek a hideaway and find themselves in an exotic beach town, drinking their sorrows away over margaritas and piña coladas galore. 

Returning to London, the four part ways and resume their ways and seek to embrace life as they had once known it. But we can all predict, that it would never ever go back to being entirely the way it was…

The movie was short and pleasant to watch. It definitely lacked a strong storyline and mood - moving from soulful drama to british comedy. But I enjoyed it for the performances of all the four protagonists. Pierce Brosnan was a lot less self conscious than usual and worked the brit accent rather well. As for Toni Collette - she played Maureen effortlessly. What touched me most were all the poignant moments laced along the narrative. All four led such widely separate lives but one dramatic moment brings them together and binds them forever. 

Lately, I constantly find myself in situations where I meet people randomly just once and bump into them a few times thereafter in a completely different setting/city. Or, I recognize a face that I have seen before in some part of the world. In many of these situations, I have ended up conversing with these friendly ghosts and more often that not, we have found some common link/connector/relationship.

We DO live in a global village and all these communication vehicles bring the world tighter and closer. Yet despite this human overload in our lives, we often find ourselves lost and empty like those 4 people on that London  rooftop. Precisely why we need to make an effort to retain the human element in our lives - the touch, the feel, the voice, the hold. Nothing can replace that. This could lead me to discuss the movie "Her" where the lonely and sensitive protagonist (Joaquin Phoenix) develops a romantic relationship with his Operating System (voice of Scarlett Johansson). A sci-fi meets rom-com film examining the future of human emotions, I found this a compelling watch. Phoenix was brilliant as the forlorn writer recovering from heart break and looking to move on with life. After a series of dates gone awry, he finds solace in the voice and efficiency of his new OS and soon finds himself love-locked with the faceless, virtual Samantha.

As creepy as this may initially seem, I don't think it is a far cry away from the urban youth's romantic endeavors. It is one thing to show love by emoji over a whatsapp, but it is quite another to receive a hand-written love note, or even a scribble!

Don't forget to reach out and actually hug whoever it is that needs your attention. Make real time for it…go be somebody's care bear today~

La Ville-Lumière

No points for guessing what or where I am referring to with the title of this post…

Paris oh Paris - The City of Light, as its widely known , is a city that has always presented a paradox to me. Love to Hate it and Hate to Love it. C'est difficile non?

Life is always a bit difficile for the average, stressed Parisien. I have come to understand that this feeling is now an inherent mood of its citizens, being the effect of socialism. The French, are famous for their grumbling, regularly ranking near the bottom of global happiness indexes. Malaise, after all, is French for ill at ease. As an MBA student, studying in Paris between 2007 and 2010, an infectiously happy and cheerful character (moi), was soon affected by this heavy feeling and general gloominess. Sad to admit, my time spent there was not particularly happy but this wonderous, beauteous city gave me a lot of other good qualities and it opened my eye to another part of me that had remained largely hidden up till then. Hence the paradox! The glorious city which has the most amazing buildings, avenues, spaces, food, wine and more; in the world, has people that don't feel the right enough to enjoy it. Even during summer, you will see the city filled with people on the streets (all Parisiens walk….) but the ones that are happy, smiling and taking selfies are usually the tourists that come to the city be it sunny, windy, rainy, cold...the majestic Eiffel Tower always stands proud and photogenic for them.

This summer, on behest of an old and special college friend, I decided to kick-start my summer vacations landing in Paris. I landed at the dreaded CDG Airport (a place that has left me scarred with worrisome memories and some tears) only to be welcomed by the glorious sunshine and got my bags quick enough and set off into the city with a smile on my face and a rumble in my tummy. Croissants were calling out to me….as were the pains aux raisins. Cheat day started the moment I landed. Oo la la!

On reaching the apartment, that I shall henceforth remember as Hotel Majik, I was temporarily lost in the sense of deja-vu. The place looked and smelled exactly like it has been in 2010. That's another thing about Paris - it takes the adage "old is gold" rather seriously, as did my friend too I guess! Everything stays the same as it always were and little care is taken to modernize it. Even when things have been modernized, they are done rather subtly. So subtly that one often misses them!

To profit the sunshine, I jumped out of my airplane attire and into something loose, chic comfortable to hit town. Hotel Majik owes its name to its owner and the magic of the location - right under the Eiffel Tower! So it didn't take me very long to get into the mood as I waited for my favorite bus (no. 69 :S) and watched the trigger-happy pose under the iconic monument on that sunny morning.

The day passed by in happy oblivion as I walked in my favorite neighborhoods, ducking into my old, favorite streets and often pausing in front of the creative vitrines of boutiques and high-end brands that have the most startling and amazing windows at their Parisien outlets. As mentioned before, Paris is a city made to walk through, and I am certain it also the secret to all french women's fantastic physique; so I intended to do my bit too! But honestly, discovering the city by foot is the best way to find little alcoves and details - a beautiful courtyard, a set of inspiring doors, intricately designed wrought-iron balconies or simply, a charming bar and fabulous oyster restaurant.

That evening, I went to a marvelous restaurant for dinner, "Les Fables de la Fontaine" - a seafood speciality restaurant, perfect for a romantic, seafood evening (http://www.lesfablesdelafontaine.net/1.aspx).

Fuelled by the yummy champagne and seaweed butter, the first course of delectable langoustine was a bit of a waste on my insensitive palette. The second course of river Sole made up for it and how….a perfect end to my first evening in Paris and beginning of a memorable vacation. 

The next day, I met another old friend for lunch. A tough and determined girl from Taiwan who had now setup shop in Paris. Marrying a Frenchman and working with the most well-reputed French luxury brand in the world, I imagined she would be gushing about her perfect PArisien life. Instead I was surprised to discover that her sentiments were quite similar to mine on the state of affairs there and the acute dip in the quality of life in an antiquated and expensive city apartment. She was thinking of moving, and couldn't wait to do it soon, except for the bump on her belly that was deterring her plans by some time. 

The afternoon turned out to be rather delightful as I went to check out the banks of the river Seine and chill out at "Les Berges". A recommendation from a true-blue, born and bred Parisien friend who told me that in my short time there, I ought to check it out (http://www.outandaboutinparis.com/2013/06/paris-does-it-again-newly-opened-berges.html). Designed like the Highline in Manhattan, it is a very nicely refurbished pedestrian plaza right upon th river and a novel way to enjoy the city and fine weather. 

My favorite bridge - Pont Alexandre

Unfortunately, I had to cut it short and rush off for the French countryside to witness the aftermath of a French-Lebanese union and partook in the merry making. Returning with the gang the next day (a Saturday), the french heaviness suddenly set in. First it was the commute back with the ridiculous traffic (some strike or the other got things to move slowly. The French LOVE revolts and strikes), then was the miserable weather (rainy and very cold) and the lack of enthusiasm for even young people to enjoy on a Saturday. So I gave in and went with the current vibe and decided to wake up early and meet my old flat mate and her husband (both darling friends of mine) for brunch, before catching the Eurostar to Londres. As it turned out, the next day was also cold and quite grey. Let me be sure to tell you that Parisien's idea of brunch food is far from what we think of brunch in this part of the world. I was lucky that the eggs were freshly prepared and having them scrambled was an option! The rest was vienoiserie of no special nature - croissants, muffins, some crusty looking salad and a decent coffee selection. Oh well, I was off to the land of crumpets and scones soon enough and my company made up for the blah meal. 

Sitting back on the train that I nearly missed (another very normal occurrence in my travelogues), I thought about the last 3 days that I had and held on to all the nice things that I had experienced. It had been short, sweet and adequate….as always, I left another small part of me dans les rues. One day, I will come back to pick up all the little parts that I have lovingly scattered all over this special place.

We will always have Paris.

Won't we?

The Birds and The Bees

People who know me a fair bit will most likely know that I have a knack for attracting the Odd. By which I don't mean odd people (that happens without saying…), but odd circumstances that don't happen to many other people.

I always seem to provide entertainment to my family and friends when narrating yet another "unique" tale from my life and times…..so today I am going to share one such story on the blog.

Frankly, the incident shouldn't have surprised me too much given my track record, but a few days later and I am still oddly amused by the aerial invasion upon me. Minding my own business and preoccupied by the 50 degree sweltering Dubai heat, I was outside the Mall of the Emirates and trying hard to locate my designated chauffeur. With the sun over my head and playing a game of cat and mouse with him, I was suddenly distracted by a loud sound coming from overhead. Squinting up, I saw the source of this strange noise - two birds flapping about animatedly. I resumed my call, looking around frantically for the black vehicle that would rescue me from the insane heat. What happens next ? The cackle gets louder and i feel 4 claws scratch my head!! Good Lord - attack of the pigeons?! So I start walking faster toward the closest building where I could get some shelter. Still a 100 meters away, I break into a jog….the cackle gets even louder and with a second swift swoop, the bird does it again! So now I run near the closest car and duck low into the ground, the bird continues to stay onto me and is now flying down low to reach me and manages to get dangerously close………………

I am almost down flat, sticking as close to the ground as I can get without having to actually lie down. Additionally, I'm using my handbag to cover my head and face from the evil, flying drones. A few more moments in this uncomfortable position and I hear the flapping and cackling get fainter - I have managed to fight the enemy off. Hurrah!

By this point, the crowd waiting at the porch of the hotel had noticed this peculiar sight and I had attracted the kind attention of a valet who rushed to my aid. I jumped up and dusted myself off brusquely, thanked him and went on my way, nervously making it to a covered shelter. I spotted the car and quickly dived right in and requested to speed out of there!

It took me a few moments to assimilate the awkwardness and hilarity of the event that had just transpired. I checked, and then double-checked my head to be sure that the angry bird hadn't left something behind! And to my relief, I was clear of any kind of deposit. Every time I wear the yellow blouse that I wore on the fateful day, I recall this incident and look into the sky, making a silent prayer to the Bird Gods to be gentle to me when I go out.

As usual, this has become a terrific story to narrate and I have recently used it to liven up a stuffy group gathering that I was a part of. Comic relief always helps. As they say "laughter is the best medicine"; and laughing at one self is sign of positivity and maturity. Glad to note that I am able to do it all the time….you should try it some time too.

Stay CALM and Carry On

Late in 2012, we saw a merchandising exodus of banners, posters, greeting cards, pop art - you name it  - bearing the slogan, "Keep Calm and Carry On" . Ever since, we have all seen numerous variations, adaptations, manipulations and personalization to the popular saying.

I had a funny last few days and this line kept ringing in my head.

 Upon my insistence a few months ago, my mother agreed to attend the CALM Literary and Arts Festival as a speaker and visitor, hosted in the Eastern Indian city of Shillong. When the e-invitation came to her, she floated it amongst the group (La Familia), consistenting of my mother plus 4 of the Mumbai-based siblings. My travel-greed urges surged and I promptly agreed to go as her plus one. Never mind if I have a job, from which I had already gotten leave a few days later, or that I was suffering from an acute lower back pain. "I love adventures, and a trip to the hills is just what the doctor ordered," I told myself. 

Cut to two weeks before the travel date, when my life was topsy-turvy with work and other banal issues that needed my serious attention. Amidst the activity of the previous month, I had put this Shillong trip away from my mind. Work travels and responsibilities were a bit sensitive and I wasn't entirely on top of my game. Mum reminded me that we were now obliged to go ahead with this trip because she never ditches or breaks her commitments. Oops, I had just trapped myself! So determinedly I went ahead with it, despite the butterflies fluttering away in my stomach. With not a clue as to the precise geographical location of Shillong, nor the details of the journey between Mumbai and Shillong, I found myself at the checkin line that fateful morning. It was only at this point that I noticed the departure and arrival time and let out an actual shriek! I was in for 6 hour flight, followed up by a 4 hour flight.....ummmm definitely NOT what the doctor has ordered. My mother, now even more furious at my ignorance on the whole trip, tried to keep her cool and told me I ought to cancel and go back to whatever else that needed my tending.

 Wow, this journey had gotten off to a brilliant start......!

That was just the prequel to indicate the circumstances and sequence of (mis) events that had led me to a disastrous mood. The post eventually does get better!

Pulling into the erstwhile Pinewood Hotel in Shilong, I thought this trip couldn't get any more unfortunate. Actually unfortunate for my mother who had to endure such an unpleasant travel companion! The hotel was meant to serve as a giant white flag that would make up for the tedious trip there. But alas, it was a little lodge that had been built by our Colonial rulers somewhere in the 1600's and I believe had been minimally refurbished since then. The room was large with creaking wooden floors, dim lights, funny synthetic bed covers and a prehistoric telephone. One hot baalti bath later, my mood had perhaps marginally improved - enough to flip through the room service menu and order us the first hot meal of a looooooooong day. My dietary requirements and precise instructions seemed to have been understood by the cheerful chap at the other end of the crackling line. It felt as though I was making a "trunk" call to a land distant and disconnected from the present times. Mum was happily organising herself and getting comfortable in her present surroundings. I watched her going about her ways enthusiastically and felt so bad that I lacked that sense of contentment, gratitude and adaptability that she was displaying. She had remarked that had my father been with her, he would have managed perfectly well too. And there I was all prickly and prissy, unwanting to cheer up and join her at the the festival dinner, choosing to eat in.

  

First silver lining- the meal was surprisingly delish - English style roast chicken served with tasty carrots, that made for a satisfying meal as I watched my mother get dressed up and leave for dinner. She tried asking me to come along one last time, but I was immobile like a rock. I had managed to setup my laptop next to the bed and sought solace in digital bliss instead. Besides, I was worn out from the long trip and no sleep so I assumed to crash out pretty early. 

4 hours later, I found myself furiously dialling my mother and summoning her back. The electricity had gone and I was spooked! She rushed home shortly after, quickly got ready for bed in the pitch dark and let me clutch onto her tightly. At some point we both drifted off and I remember thinking, "Hmmmm, maybe I can hack this plan after all..."

The next day was our only productive day and I wanted to do as much as possible. We set off towards the Shillong Peak which provided the most brilliant views of the city in the valley. The drive to it was indeed lovely. Mother Nature has blessed the region with flora and fauna, such a treat for eyes used to seeing steel and grey most of the time. The vibrancy of the trees abundant with their summer blossoms was quite uplifting - burning red gulmohars, velvety purple jacarandas and gleaming yellow laburnums were just about everywhere. Not to mention fields and fields of a delicate white flower that we soon discovered were potato flowers! The state of Meghalaya is the capital of the choicest potatoes in the country; and even has a large building housing the Potato Research Center. In addition, the region also has wonderful vegetables and fruits like the carrots I had for dinner - leafy turnips, massive cauliflowers, all kinds of berries, tasty pineapples.....mmmm, food items we often associated with "imported" variety that we may chance upon at frightful prices at a Natures Basket or get to eat only when traveling abroad. At the peak we stopped by at a strip of these vendors and gleefully bought as many vegetables as our hands could hold, at a pittance! It hurt us both to observe the painfully severe and backward lifestyle of the vendor-women, all belonging to the tribal community that has always existed in that region. Don't they ever want their life to improve or were they happy with the simplicity of it all? The ladies looked at the both of us with a bit of disbelief. We were after all going crazy over sabzis! They still cracked a Betel-but stained smile at us and helped us load their wares into our bright red vehicle which the driver had re-designed to resemble a faux-Ferrari.

Potato fields!

Potato flowers!!

Another amazing find was the hydrangea flower that we in the city are ready to pay an arm and a leg for. They make the ultimate statement in luxury floral gifting......in Shillong, they were growing wildly all over! Even the most depraved home or locality had unbelievable flowers growing about the thorny boundary wall. English roses in a scarlet red, yellow Lilliums, delicate orchids and heaven knows what other variety of exotic flowers were growing here in such an unfussy way. 

Our next stop, the elephant waterfalls was also quite enjoyable. Small falls, neatly preserved, swarming with Bengali (maybe even Bangladeshi) families, enjoying their summer vacation. Simple pleasures, I kept thinking all the while watching them chattering amongst themselves in their plastic sunglasses and posing for selfies, of course! We then had to trek back to the city as mum's sessions were scheduled that afternoon. The venue was the Central Library and the atmosphere was that of a college cultural festival. The local teens with their mucho trendy hair styles were encouraging one another as they each got onto the little stage and gave a go at winning the talent competition. Their raw talent was quite incredible to watch. I didn't know that the region produced some of the best singers in the nation, and was happy to learn that the Shillong Choir was one of the leading choirs in the world! 

Having much else to do on my own, I grabbed a plastic chair and sat in a discrete corner as my mum met up with fellow colleagues of the literary world. The sessions then began and I sat through a few.. No doubt the conversation was animated, opinionated and well articulated by all those up on the dias. I felt rather ignorant in their midst with a skimming knowledge of any of the subjects. My mind continued to remain preoccupied with what was happening at the office at that very same moment, where all my friends were and how to get the 3G services on my phone to get going! 

Finally lifting the heavy fog that weighted over my moods, was a stand up comic act by an artiste who goes by the name Papa CJ. He was pretty fun and managed to get the packed auditiorium in splits! My mum looked at me and perhaps breathed a sigh of relief as she saw me chortling with laughter. The evening continued with a dinner at the Govenors House, the Raj Bhavan. A beautifully well maintained colonial home in the hills, with lovely lawns and stately bearers took me to a period unknown. In keeping with the local food fare, dinner was a bit strange with a motley selection of un-tasty dishes. Pork is the food of choice and all of the city is lined with open Butcher shops, cutting up all sorts of animals. Quite disgusting! At precisely 9.30pm the dinner ended so s few of the youthful crowd, went to a bar called Cloud 9. I hung around a bit, preferring their company to being along in the antique hotel room. 

The next morning, we had to set off early. Remember folks, it's a 12 hour journey back home. I managed to visit Wards Lake for a spot of exercise before the arduous journey. I wanted to experience the beautiful floralia one last time before returning to our concrete existence. The cute little garden had magnificent lotus ponds completely covering the water surface. I felt a bit uplifted.

I soldiered through the drive back with a much better spirit than the first time around. A yummy lunch of fragrant "chowmein" was collected from a street side dhaba (my first dhaba experience) and taken as a doggy bag that was relished by mother and me on a packed Indigo flight from Guwhati to Mumbai.

All the while, I kept wondering what purpose this particular travel had served in my life's learnings....not quite sure if I have figured it out. For sure, patience is on top of that list, which takes me back to....."Keep Calm and Carry On"

Have a wonderful week.

Hairspray (not the musical....)

Movies screened in theaters in India are (rudely) interrupted by an (abrupt) "intermission" so that moviegoers get the chance to top up on their popcorn-coke-pizza or take that ever-pressing telephone call that buzzed through the first half, much to the annoyance of the other patrons....either way, the intermission serves as "necessary" pause during the movie.

Unlike our Bollywood movies, Hollywood movies aren't made for this halfway break. So it is rather annoying whilst watching the movie, where the film is moving towards the climax or a character is saying something fairly important, that the film grinds to an abrupt break. In any case, I digress....

During the intermission of American Hustle, I looked at my friends with whom I was watching the movie to chat and check how they were enjoying the movie. But incidentally, they were in need of that necessary pause to replenish their pop-corn tubs and I was left alone to ponder on what I felt about the movie. Curiously enough, I realized that I had been watching the movie more for the crazy-crazy-hairdo than the other aspects!

It was curiously strange, but each character in the movie, had his/her own hair-story going. So much so, that the hair was its own separate entity, having life and motion of its own. I was just riveted by the fashion of the time on display, dominated by the brilliant coifs on display.

In the second half, when all the characters come together and the mob is brought face-to-face to the fabricated Sheek (wonder why they couldn't pronounce it shake for a "sheikh"). At this point, all the central characters  are dressed to impress and share the same scene and the screen space. It is a treat to see the glamorous, O.T.T and vulgar style of the 70's come alive on screen.

Seductress, Sydney Prosser (Amy Adams) plays the icy mistress of protagonist Irving Rosenfeld as well as the apple of FBI agent Richie DiMaso's (Bradley Cooper) eye. Both the men in her life are men who evidently take pride in their hair. The movie opens with Irving Rosenfeld (Christian Bale) in front of the mirror, doing his thang. In a near meditative state, he meticulously fixes tufts of synthetic hair onto his bald scalp by gluing and spraying them in place. In another scene later in the movie, DiMaso is shown wearing  hot rollers in his hair. This is nothing to take away from the effort gone behind the blonde nest created on Irving's wife Rosalyn's (Jennifer Lawrence) head.

While this may seem frivolous and funny to you - I won't disagree. But these are all necessary details which makes the movie what it is. From the beginning, it is all about getting it right "feet up" and so if that means getting your hair right for the role; you damn well get your hair right for the role! Whilst writing this blogpost, I came accross a few great article which shared the hair and makeup regime followed by the cast during the shooting of the movie:

http://nymag.com/thecut/2013/12/hair-stories-behind-american-hustle.html

http://www.vanityfair.com/vf-hollywood/bradley-cooper-american-hustle-hair-video?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%253A+vanityfair%252Fvfdailyfeed+(VF+Daily+(X-rail))

For those who haven't watched the movie yet...don't read the links above. Instead, get your movie ticket or illegal DVD pronto. And for those who have, ladies and gents, let's get the groovy hair going pronto! Grab your hairdryer, put the hot rollers to heat and keep cans of  hair spray ready!

In the mean time, I am certain the Hustlers will sweep through the Academy Award winnings and enjoy a hair-raising awards season!