Laurent of ARUbia

I cant contain myself any longer, and now that the opening weekend has passed, iI’m able to spill the beans on English Vinglish.

To begin with, let me answer most peoples’ first question: Yes, Sriji is absolutely terrific. Miss 420 delivers a real, honest, believable and strong performance in her come back movie. She plays Simple Shashi will utmost grace and dignity, being true to her age and stage in life. It would been trying to say the least if Sri had decided to return to  the big screen as a a chamak-dhamak cheez, clad in a tight dress and wearing tall heels. It would have been easy for her to have believed that she could have pulled off such a role too, given her real-life avtaar is ultra-glam - she still has a “fab bod” with those lissome limbs, the glossy curtain of hair, clear complexion and those big, bright, animated eyes.Those very eyes, that got Laurent at first sight. 

(Long Sighhhh)

Lover boy Laurent, one of the main supporting characters cast as the classic French lover and as Shashi’s biggest classroom fan. And as the sigh might have implied, he is a real dreamboat. Playing a French chef, who finds himself in mid-town Manhattan, cooking at a restaurant but struggling with communication as he can’t speak “the good English”. Laurent encounters a nervous Shashi at the cash till of a cafe, struggling to order herself a sandwich and a coffee (all she wants is a humble Nescafe, but she is offered instead is the choice between an Americano, a Latte, a cappucino or a mocchacino). Shashi is bring given the third degree by an increasingly angry big momma at the counter, at her in-ability to place the order fast enough. As the scene unfolds, Shashi is found stuttering, mumbling, stumbling and rushing out of the cafe in shame. She goes to a bench some distance away where she breaks down and is sobbing.

Enter Laurent.

“Madame, zees eez your cappucino that you order” (please note the pronunciation and grammar). Shashi looks up and their eyes meet. Still dumb-founded, she takes the cup of coffee that he offers and they part ways...and as they say, the rest is history. 

Well, not really because this isn’t your usual hindi movie jahaan kuch bhi possible hain...So as it goes, Sridevi is in the Big Apple, to help her widowed sister plan a changla Maharashtrian wedding of her daughter to a godd Amrikan mulga. This is the first time that the largely unexposed and inexperienced Shashi finds herself far, far away from home (Mumbai), all alone in a big city and apart from her only life (husband, kids and amiable mother-in-law). If not stating the obvious then, Sridevi’s character doesn’t speak a word of English and has faced sufficient humiliation by her little daughter and annoying husband for this, over the years. To make it worse, she is now here, and can’t get around because of it. She is however in the loving company of her sister, who was also like her once upon a time. But life and circumstance smartened her up in to a perfect NJ mother of 2 bubbly and attractive girls. Shashi’s younger niece, is a sensitive and loving girl, who understands her maasi’s need of emancipation from her own inhibitions, particularly that of her disability to speak English. Together, they share a little secret, and Shashi enrolls into a 4 week crash course in learning English. It is in the confines of the classroom and in the company of her classmates, that the character of Shashi comes into her own. 

The first important breakthrough is her being called an entrepreneur by her professor, when she describes that she makes and sells ladoos from her home, back in India. It is for the first time that she has been regarded with a molecule of respect - a feeling she has never known since her kids and husband made her feel like nothing on earth. She is merely a lady, performing her duties as a home maker - a role so very important to the fabric of family life and society at large - but regarded as thanklessly by the people she has devoted her life to.

Essentially the movie highlights one of the most important human needs - that of respect and dignity from the people one lives with. 

In a matter of 6 weeks, Shashi’s character experiences life hitherto unknown to her. She changes a lot, but not that dramatically that she is suddenly transformed out of saris and into sneakers and playing a cool Americanised soccer mom. But the changes are shown subtly, delicately and believably. As I said in the beginning, Sridevi plays the roll of this lady poignantly and perfectly, never going out of sync with the character. This is wonderful to see, and I am sure that the highly talented writer and director of the movie, Gauri Shinde had a lot to do with this. Gauri Shinde has developed the character of Shashi from her own mother who faced similar treatment. Once Gauri had grown up, she had realised how often she must have hurt her mother...this premise was strong enough for her to be convinced to make a movie based on it. Perhaps this is the reason why Gauri has got all the little details in place - even small gestures, nuances and character traits have been woven in so beautifully into the script. To add to that, the casting is excellent, with not a single character out of place or over-done (least of all Laurent, sigh again). 

My only grievance was towards Shashi’s husband and the lack of explanation towards their reason of union. One wonders what he saw in her to have married her, given the great difference in not just their personalties, but even in their educational qualifications. Perhaps, it was her culinary skills? But this is just an assumption.

The tender tale of Shashi’s parivartan will have universal appeal - for there is a Shashi in all our lives. I would urge as many people to watch it as it is never to late to recognise the value of the Shashi in his/her life and treat her differently - the way she deserves to be. 

P.S -It seems we may see more of Shashi aur Laurent ki jodi : 

http://articles.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/2012-09-24/cinema/34060714_1_mehdi-nebbou-english-vinglish-gauri-shinde

Mellow Yellow

My heart bursts with pride...mama De is painting the town yellow!

What better way to flag off the "festive season", than with my mother receiving the Veuve Clicquot Tribute, this Friday evening? It is not enough that she has been a constant source of inspiration for me and my siblings, but also to countless nameless and often faceless women all accross India and Asia, over the past four decades. But she receives this very special honour from VC in the category of 'Inspirational Women of the World'.

Ladies and Gentleman, please do read the official note below:

Without sounding too gushy, this is truly an important moment in her life time. I feel trmendously proud of her. She has worked so hard and so sincerely and has contributed to society in the best ways known by her, and with the resources in her means.

Working out of our home, with the family dining table as her office, the perenially broken cordless as her dedicated hotline and with the services of our semi-literate home help as her "personal assitants", my mum has furiously and prolifically carried along. Never fussing as a creative or glamorous person usually does, she has done her work with all her heart and soul, over the din of kitchen sounds, the dhobiwaala and the phonewalla.She has always been this way, as far back as I can remember. Never comprimising on her family life and valuing us in her life, she manages to balance all the worlds that she has chosen to be a part of.

When I was younger, there were many times that I would be irked that I would have to share her or our time together with people who were mere strangers (intruders?) to me, who would come to visit her. I was always encouraged to hang about these meetings, and being the chipkoo little girl that I was, I would stay just put, sponging in all that I heard.
All kinds of people from different parts of the world and various walks of life meet with mum and the case usually is that they come to her with the force of a homing device to its base. It takes just a few moment after meeting her that these people enjoy a "volcano moment" and simply erupt their thoughts, their troubles, their ideas, their hearts...
Through these interactions, I have learned so much about the lives of others and it is only now that I can value those experiences. I have been fortunate enough to meet some truly great and wonderful people and particularly some fabulous women, whom I could have never met on my own. So I am glad that I was that chipkoo creature, clinging on to her and never feeling too shy to stay in!

Now as I attempt to forge my own path in life, I find myself in amusing situations when people "realise" that I am her flesh and blood. The colour in their faces change, their eyes brighten and I know that they are looking at me in a different light. Without skipping a beat, I follow suite and play the part to the T! But it is so amusing...because she is just my mom, sitting at home in her kaftaan, in front of the laptop going clickety-clack and awaiting the return of her absconding children, even if they roll home at 5 am! But to them, she is a role model and a figure of motivation.

I can't say she is a regular mom, and thank God for that! I have enjoyed life's best moments with her or living vicariously through her.

As I get ready to celebrate her moment this Friday evening, my only thought is that I hope to have even half her effervescence and joie de vivre.

Chin, chin folks and drink up your cup of life.

Mum in Reims at the Shobhaa De vintage patch of VC champagne

The girl who went missing

 

Hello? It's me. Yes, I know I have been away. I was traveling, but I didn't get too far. I hope you don't mind, since I have just shown up here, completely out of the blue. It is a little late; but I wanted to check in with you none the less. It feels good to be here. So please may I stay, just for a short while?

So much and yet so little has happened since my last blog post...where do I begin? There were so many times that I was dying to write and then the feeling would pass by quickly. I have been thoroughly in-disciplined about it.Truth be told, I have developed cold feet too. I thought it would be difficult to move on from this long period of silence. As I type, I'm hoping for my fingers to warm up slowly yet surely, and let them do the work.

I have been traveling a lot for work and today I find myself hurrying (as usual), to make my train from Delhi to Ludhiana As I sit here on the train bound for Prosperous Punjab, I am hopeful. Hopeful that the exhibition goes off well and we do well. Not sure this place is all that it is cracked up to be, but sure as hell hope so and hope is all we have right?

It has been a long time since I've been anywhere on leisure and my mind keeps wandering to places that are calling out to me.

On my dream wander-list is the holy city of Benares. A city I have been longing to visit for a while, but particularly so, in the last one year since I learned about the wonderful festival of Dev Diwali (Diwali of the Gods), from a friend of mine, who has celebrated it there last year and had had the most enchanting time. The idea got reinforced when my mother was working on an initiative to rehabilitate and revive the dying art of the gorgeous Benarasi weaves, as part of a project spearheaded by the TATA group. Watching the priests perform the aarti on the faux ghaats, created in the ballroom, I got lost in the smell of the powerful dhoop, that filled the space and created such a serene atmosphere. If I felt so strongly in this setting, I wondered how I would feel when I actually was at the edge of the Ganges, preparing for my virgin dubki into the holy water! Clearly, it felt as a bulaava, which I am sure will be realised some time very soon.

 
From the Ganga to the Seine....Ooh la la, Paris is calling - the glorious October skies, the sharp nip in the air, the wonderful fleuristes lining all the streets, and of course, the pungent smell of a mix of cigarettes and heavy parfum, all around! Oh! how I crave for a week in the city of coffee and croissants so, so much. Especially since so many of my besties are visiting there right now.

Ms. Groover has left us behind in Mumbai and is merry-making and embracing her new life at INSEAD. Her present life goes something like this: study, group meeting, drink, party, recover,eat, drink, sleep, study, recover.  You get the idea? And when she is done with that, she jumps into her car and whizzes into Paris. And after an adequate city fix, she zips back to Fontaine Bleu - the land of Napoleon. I believe this French Miss is getting set for a weekend in Switzerland...on a school assignment, she says. I think otherwise!

If that sounds like too much of work, then Naima's plan, may be more up your stream...she is back in Paris, after a giddy-heady 2 months in her home town of Maddy (Madagascar), where she has gotten engaged to her long-time beau. What better way to prepare for a life of marital bliss, than by honing the art of sweet-toothing! Chapeau, Naimu, the smart girl has figured that the surest way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Lucky guy! I have not only had the chance of sampling many of her culinary delights, but have had the greater chance to watch her whipping up a storm a la cuisine, back in her delightfully sunny kitchen in Paris. Who wants Nigella, when you have Naïma?

The good ol' days

And finally, Ms.Melanie Shah is getting set for her first visit to Paris and has Gotham, for good company. Mils has approached this trip with scientific precision, not leaving much to chance. 2 months ago, she was facing a massive confusion in her mind on which hotel to pick, and sent me an SOS email to help her clear the confusion. I said yes of course, and soon received an excel file, with a list of short-listed hotels, with various rating scales and a 'final comments' column for additional info. Wow! This was definitely more analytical than many of the projects I did at work, but I made it through and sent her back my 2 top choices. At this moment, we get on the phone to finalise The Hotel. It all boiled down to one simple quandary : should we pick the famous one in chic St. Germain or go for the one in convenient Opera, which includes a free bottle of wine as well as a museum pass?
Obviously we picked the latter!
If I were in Paris right now, what would I like to do the most?? Well, I would definitely grab the museum pass and visit the Van Cleef & Arpels, Haute Joaillerie exposition at the Musee des Art Decoratifs where 400 pieces that have made the fame of Van Cleef & Arpels since 1906 are being showcased. Truly a spectacular and extremely special collection of some of the finest crafted jewels!

Although I am most certain that the City of Lights will bewitch Mils and G, it now seems the only thing left to chance is if Mils gets time for some retail therapy, and this one Gotham decides!

Well, so where does that leave me, I forget? Ah right, back to longing and lusting. For the moment, I guess, I will have to make do with the land of kulchas and cholle. And perhaps, a patiala or two, will knock me out of my state of nostalgia and reverie!

Back to the train ride, iPod in hand, song for this moment - "oye lucky, lucky oye!"

La Dolce Vita

I couldn’t wait to attack the city of Firenze – a city that I had been longing to visit for the last few years and had not made it to as yet. A few days after I was done tweaking my vacation itinerary; I had to make a sudden decision: Monaco vs. Firence – and I had all of one day to confirm the change. I was truly torn. On one hand, I believed that Monaco was a chance opportunity - to go to a real ball, mingle with European royalty and feel like a modern day princess. So I accepted that offer, and convinced myself that I could visit good ol’ Florence any other time instead. With a heavy heart, I admitted to my mum, who was readying up to play my Florentine guide, that I had chosen otherwise and I told her I was canceling my Florence trip and that she ought to carry on with my little sister.

But something wouldn’t give. And as it unfolds, the Monaco Ball plan got dashed.

How was I lucky, you might wonder, given that I now had neither Monaco nor Florence?

Turns out – I had never gotten down to actually canceling my Florence trip – because I simply couldn’t get myself to do it! So I was extremely happy that Destiny had Her way and I was going to make it after all…

So here we were, super-cruised out, looking like first-time travellers, each with a suitcase larger than the other, in a continent, not known for porters or hired help. And in the sweltering sun, at the brink of summer heat, looking for a certain Palazzo Tolomei in Florence. Now thoroughly tired, thirsty, hungry and in desperate need of the bathroom, we found ourselves standing in a lovely (and lively) side street, trying to gracefully lug our beasts of burdens (or “hudpas” as we say in Marathi), off the cab and on to the side walk trying our best not to attract too many eyeballs. With no sign in place, we weren’t sure if we are the right address. We were booked to stay at Palazzo Tolomei, which wasn’t exactly a hotel, nor was it an inn, it was meant to be a converted Florentine home/city estate.

We enter the courtyard through the iron grill and are greeted by a tiny, young lady, who turns out to be the girl on the other side of the emails. “Ahh, so we are at the right place!” I thought. She looks at the 3 of us and breaks into her Italian-english, that she is Chiara, and is expecting us. I ask for a porter and gingerly eye the staircase, wondering if there isn’t an elevator, then taking these bad boys up a flight of old stone steps is definitely going to pose as at least one of the many problems! She jauntily tells us, that she is the help and we will manage the bags in smaller lots, AND there is an elevator, a modern one at that!

So great – lots of good things already and after the herculean task are complete – we walk through a corridor, then a room and then enter the “reception”.

Pause

Stare

Gasp

LO and BEHOLD! The reception is a wonderful, quaint salon, with a ceiling 20 ft high…the room has a beautiful marble fire place, a quaint bar stocked with all the right bottles for an Italian appertivo, a mini-library with books on Florence and Italy and my favourite nook - a tiny alcove with marvelous light – perfect to gather one’s thought or just flip through a newspaper! At this point, I actually started jumping and shouting in absolute delight and glee – hugging my mum and Chiara, as my sister watched me going crazy.

Enter: Daniela, the Lady of the house…she comes in, looks at the 3 of us and just jumps in for the group hug. It is amore at first sight. Daniela who owns this delightful pallazo, runs it almost single-handedly, I was tipped off on this jewel-esque property by my Mumbai buddy (thank you Saj!), who had lived in Florence, during his years as a student of jewelery manufacturing. But I had made the booking, going with a good gut feeling (not to mention, an acute shortage of time) and look how well it had turned out?

In a gush of love,Daniela announced that we could get to choose our room from the 8 rooms in the property and we were led into the first room.

And again:

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!” More gushing and gawking and gasping and squealing….”wow wow wow!” I had to pinch myself to believe that we really could stay in this magical pristine, white room on a gigantic four-poster bed, falling asleep under the watchful gaze of the heavenly angels depicted in the original 16^th century fresco that was on the ceiling above?

The room was really some thing out of one’s ralm of imagination – marble floors, fireplace, large windows, not to mention, all the tiny perfect details that Daniela had added to the room.

We saw the other free rooms, each one, so very special, but stuck to the first on this one, on account of its sheer grandness (and proximity to the elevator!)

Daniela’s palazzo continued to delight and surprise…as I continued to venture through the various staircases and inquisitively open all the heavy doors that came my way – I found:

~A dance studio which must have been the original ballroom,

~A fully-functional gym, with all the machines of a normal modern gym – just that here the treadmill was placed near a magnicent David-like marble statue. (Does a girl need more motivation to burn calories now!?)

~A little pantry with the old heavy brass pots and pans,

~A common bathroom, which was the original community toilet for the house staff

To add to the experience, Daniela and my mum turned out to be soul sorelles (soul sisters) and to mark their union, Daniela even organized a special “gift”. It was a boat ride down the Arno, in the traditional riverboat. We saw all of Florence, glittering in the gold light of the setting sun. We listened to Lorenzo, who earnestly translated his father’s (the boatman who was rowing us) words to us the various wonderful structures along the river, whilst sharing little secrets of their marvelous city.

             

As we floated down the river that magical evening, I couldn’t help but be thankful. It was the perfect moment, with the perfect sunset in the perfect city.

Ciao Florence, I shall visit you again…arrividerci. 

In the mood for Love

....and he played the piano.

She listened.
He watched.
She soothed.
He played.
She healed.

They loved.

And what about moi?

I devoured.

And continue to feel warm and flushed, with goosebumps and I tingle at the very thought of the scene from Madonna's movie, W.E, that I watched on board my flight. The scene I was particularly moved by, was when the Russian (dream boat - Oscar Isaac) plays the piano for the tormented and wounded woman, sitting in front of him.
It gives a girl hope (and also lets her build a dream) that this Man does exist. A man who will be there for her to watch her and to protect her. A Man of Honour.

W.E is such a deeply romantic and wonderful movie that simply transported me out of my present reality to another world. I often have to fight myself because I am very old fashioned when it comes to matters of the heart. I shout at myself for this simply because I have to learn that the times have changed and an old-school romance doesn't exist. There is no courtship. The gentleman doesn't waltz with the lady, unless of course, it is right into the bedroom!

Madonna is so, so talented and the world refuses to give this creative force her due credit. This movie directed and co-written by her is another one of her masterpieces and the critical and commercial world slammed to bits. I wonder why it didn't do well commercially as the subject (Duke and Duchess of Windsor) and the theme (romance/drama) is of universal interest. From start to finish, there is not a detail out of place...Madonna-the-perfectionist has spared no means to ensure the styling, the makeup, the sets, the vehicles, the locations, the outfits and the jewelery are perfect. So perfect in fact, that she made sure that the Duchess's renowned collection of jewels (and crucifix charms) were not costume and the legendary jeweler Cartier, re-made them for the movie. (Only to be promptly destroyed, to preserve the value of the originals)

Even the outfits were re-created by fashion houses like Dior and Chanel. The Duchess of Windsor was a great patron of couture and Madonna insisted, along with her award-winning costume director, Arianna Phillips, that there would be no compromise.

All of these efforts would have been redundant, if it were lost on a poor starcast. And wouldn't that have been a shame?

The best part of the movie was the brilliant cast and I would owe this to Madonna herself once again, who made rather astute and bold choices of casting (rather unknown) English actors Andrea Riseborough and James D'Arcy as the lead couple. Not to mention, the smoldering Oscar Isaac (The Russian) and Abbie Cornish (Modern day Wallis) who just became the characters they were playing.

The movie alternates between 2 periods and 2 realities of 2 bright and ambitious American women. In the year 1998, Wallis, a desperately neglected and lonely Manhattan house wife, seems some what crazed and possessed by an important auction held by Sotheby's in New York featuring the prized and precious possessions of the world's most famous romantics. 
King Edward VII, renounced the throne of the British Empire, to marry the woman he loved - Wallis Simpson. A woman loathed and despised by the world for her apparent lack of morals and sly ways to ensnare the world's most desirable and powerful bachelor into her evil trap.

She went on to reinvent herself as an international style icon with a love for haute couture, and famously coined the infamous phrase: 'You can never be too rich or too thin'.

 As tokens of their love and affection, the couple bestowed generous gifts upon another, commissioning what would result in a huge collection of jewels from the sought-after European jewellery houses such as Cartier and Van Cleef and Arpels. Jeanne Toussaint, Cartier's high jewellery director, produced several avant-garde designs for the Duchess such as the onyx and diamond panther bracelet, as well as a colourful flamingo brooch, made from rubies, sapphires, emeralds, citrines and diamonds, both of which are expected to sell for over £1 million each at the auction.

After renouncing the throne and marrying her, they lived in exile, mostly in the South of France. He only returned to his home in 1977, in a box - his coffin. And the only time the world acknowledged her as his wife, was when she was buried next to him in the year 1985.

Going back to 1998 - young Wallis is in a hapless and hopeless marriage and is drawn to this auction firstly because she was somewhat obsessed since birth by W.E; being named after her. She is at a point of deep melancholy in her life and by studying the antique pieces on display, Wallis is trying desperately to come to a conclusion about love and life.

During these long hours spent at the auction house, silent and strong, Evgeni (the Russian), meets her and for some unfathomable reason(lucky girl, I say!)  is drawn to her.

The movie slides through these 2 parallel love stories, often not very smoothly...drawing parallels in the lives and circumstances of these 2 women.

The movie is deeply romantic, as you can tell by my description, with a brilliantly haunting soundtrack composed by Abel Korzeniowski, is so lyrical and powerful in its ultimate message.

The movie tells the tale from the point of view of the Duchess, whose story has remained untold and unheard.

With the pitter-patter on your window pane, grab a cup of hot chocolate, or rather a tall glass of wine, and indulge your senses in this movie...

Lofty Aspirations

Ciao! Ciao!

My fingers are actually like jelly as I type this out...it has been long. Correction -  too long.

No excuse (as usual, you might roll your eyes), but kya karein, everyday I'm shuffling, with no time for blogging!

Imagine the inspirational ambience I have created to get this post out of me...the cure for "writer's block" is to for the troubled writer to seclude himself/herself in a paradisesque place. A beautiful setting, amidst lush green trees, chirping birds, soothing music in the background and with green tea and biscuits just an arm's length away.

That ought to do it.

Hmmm, I think I haven't quite reached this place just as yet. For i find myself at a bright and noisy airport terminal, sure i see the blue, ummm grey sky,in the distance, through the glass facade of the building. instead of birds chirping, I do remain distracted by the buzzing ( and often, squealing) of babies and kids. The laptop balances precariously on my knees and I hope to find a power source very soon before it dies at this blessed moment.

But hey - all is well! Swell in fact because I am on my way to a paradise like vacation...yay. First stop, Venezia for a quick over night stay, where I will be sure to throw in a gondola ride (or two) and a refreshing bevy at the much-herd about, Harry's Bar.

About this bar (thank you, wikipedia!)-

Harry's Bar was opened in 1931 by bartender Giuseppe Cipriani.According to the company history, Harry Pickering—a rich, young Bostonian--had been frequenting Hotel Europa in Venice, where Giuseppe Cipriani was a bartender.When Pickering suddenly stopped coming to the hotel bar, Cipriani asked him why. When Pickering explained that he was broke because his family found out his drinking habits and cut him off financially, Cipriani loaned him 10,000 lire (about $5,000 US).Two years later, Pickering returned to the hotel bar, ordered a drink, and gave Cipriani 50,000 lire in return. "Mr. Cipriani, thank you," he said, according to the Cipriani website. "Here's the money. And to show you my appreciation, here's 40,000 more, enough to open a bar. We will call it Harry's Bar."

On the short flight here (DXB), I started watching W.E and was immersed in it completely...lyrical, poetic, stylish, romantic, great performances...Madonna sure tells the story well. Can't wait to get onto the plane again and finish the rest of the movie.

In other news, I have been deeply moved by the most gorgeous pre and post rain shower skies, Mumbai is experiencing. Last 2 weeks have been divine....here are some of my favorite pictures, courtesy the extremely handy iPhone:

Ok bellas and boys...finally, boarding call. I guess that's me! 

More updates as soon as I can...and this is an order from me to me!

Fantastique

I am one of those lame people, who pretends to be uber healthy - lending the impression of being very selective and particular in my choice of foods. I love to say, "I just had a great run" or "Can you pass me a bag of pumpkin seeds?" and "I am craving a soya tofu burger" .

All of the above is true indeed. I honestly do love things that are bottled, packaged, labeled "ORGANIC" and "BIO". They are usually sold in a recycled material package and look raw and (un)appealing to most! The problem with me is my robust appetite, I eat a lot of the stuff when I eat. Thus kicking away any of the healthy benefits!
But hey - its the endeavor that counts, right?And in some way, I feel like I am doing a good thing not just for my self, but for society at large, by making a healthier choice.

So in keeping with this lifestyle choice, I am a huge proponent of ORGANIC LIVING. Marketers for organic food stuff would have a field day with me, being such a soft target for their wares.
Internationally, organic food has been around a while, and it became fashionable, cool and moralistic to consume some where around 2004. I remember visiting California in 2005 and getting introduced to organic food stuff..There is particularly trendy cafe in L.A called the Urth Cafe that was (and still is) the place to be. Every one around me was perfectly slim, perfectly tan and perfectly blonde - sipping on their ice lattes and organic grain muffins.

I was there for other reasons however - star struck and hopeful (hopeless, more like it!) with the idea of bumping into Vinnie or one of his entourage boys there!

Adrian Grenier celebrating his b'day at the Urth Cafe

Over the years, I have found several hood halls, super markets and street markets that are a real mecca for o-foods. One of my top fav's is the Whole Foods Market...a trip to NYC a few summers ago was had with a daily pit-stop at WF. I ending up spending a lot of  my "shopping money" on quinoa, barley, soy milk shakes, organic strawberries; instead of on  soho fashion delights.
In my time spent in Dubai, no weekend was complete without a mug of the house coffee with carrot cake and Abhijay at the Organic Cafe in Jumeirah. It was a sacred ritual that I miss very often!

When I was working in Paris, I was in an office filled with incredibly tall, skinny and well-heeled fashionistas and if you wanted to make a lunch plan with them, you had to be prepared for a no-salt, no-fuss, bio lunch chez Cojean. (www.cojean.fr)

It was hilarious because the company we worked for had over 2000 employees and a tiny little cafeteria that served hot, good food. Given the supply/demand crisis, the cafeteria was always very full unless you went very early or very late. Instead, we were given restaurant tickets to lunch elsewhere...The 9 euro coupon bought you a few grains of this and a few leaves of that at Cojean versus the 4 course hearty meal one would get at the cafeteria in under 5 euros! Initially, all the tick-tock ladies would be storming towards Cojean but come the harsh winter, those very ladies would be in line, smoking away furiously waiting to enter the humble cafeteria!


In Bombay, I don't get the choice as is available abroad, the concept is still very new and it isn't very interesting for the retailers either. The products are too expensive and the consumers don't have sufficient knowledge to make the organic choice when making a trip to the grocery store. There are some note worthy initiatives like Kavita Mukhi's line of products under the brand, Conscious Foods. She also organises a Famers Market of Fresh Produce in Bandra/Race Course every sunday. This initiative puts the farmers in direct contact with the consumers and eliminates the ruthless middlemen. I think we have already missed the last market for the season, but you can find Conscious Foods products at any big grocery store. (www.farmersmarket.co.in)

 This weekend, I went wild gorging on the yummiest new organic treat - the organic chocolates by Fantasie, Chocolates - Zeba Kohli. I found them to be reminiscent of chocolates by this Swiss chocolatier, Tristan, who specialises in hand made chocolates which people just die for. Operating from one location- a tiny village outside Geneva called Bougy-Villars, the chocolatier is well-known and celebrated amongst the cacoa connoseirs and those "who know". So I was rather pleasantly surprised with Zeba's new offering which was so much like the Tristans in look and taste.

On Sunday, I was trying to explain to my friends just how awesome these chocolates were and my explanation to them went some thing like this, "guys, you got to try these new chocolates by Fantasie. You know the store at Kemps Corner? They have just launched a line or organic chocolates and they're really good....when you open the box and you have them, they are soooo good." They looked at one another and then at me, expecting I had something more to say. Did the story go anywhere? All I could muster was, "They are good. Verrrry Good"
Sure enough,  I was ridiculed for my lack of articulation and clearly didn't successfully sell them the chocs. To my defense, these chocolates are just very yummy. So very yummy, that I am unable to describe them. So go grab yourself a box soon!

Ok, that's all for me, it is tea time now....Tulsi organic green tea, what else?

Project Common Bond

Project Common Bond will be held in Boston July 12th to 20th. All expenses paid for by American Govt. Kids from all over the world. 2 kids needed from India. Only requirement : any member of immediate family to have been a victim of a terror attack.
The only objective is Collective Healing.

As we would need to organise visas and travel arrangements, we need to identify these 2 individuals ASAP!


Please contact me arundhatide@gmail.com for details

100 ka chutta nahi milenga...

 100

That's the number that all of India seems to be pretty fixated with at the moment. Well, if not the entire nation, then Mumbai is, for sure...Following Sachin's 100th 100, two weeks ago - all forms of the media have gone absolutely berserk commemorating the Man. In usual Indian style, we have decided that the Little Master may now officially exit ODI's and continue to rake it in through all the other means.Gladly, Sachin has been vocal in establishing the contrary to this thought by assuring the masses that as of now, he shall continue professional cricket.

But a rather interesting development (since I began writing this post, 5 days ago!) is that Sachin has elegantly stepped down as the captain for Mumbai Indians and has neatly handed this gift to Bhajji.
Arey aila - hey kai Sachin? IPL cha chaska side varoon honar? (translation- "oh mother! Whats this Sachin? Ready to enjoy the IPL from the side line?")


Meanwhile Harbhajjan and his various chickitas must be going wild, doing the balle balle with several patiala pegs being had! Bhajji says,

"Sachin bhai spoke to me a few days back and told me about his decision. It's a great honour for me to lead Mumbai Indians in such a big tournament," said Harbhajan. "I would like to thank Nita (Ambani) bhabi and Sachin paaji for giving me this responsibility and showing faith in me. It was a difficult moment when Sachin expressed his desire to quit captaincy. But we all believe that he is the best person to take the final call on such matters." 

For a non-IPL person (notice, I didn't say "fan") like me; who remains fairly indifferent to all the tamaasha surrounding this sporting event - I am sure, that it will be another season of great glamour, excitement, entertainment and controversy!!

SO, LET THE GAMES BEGIN!



Chulo, now you tell me, what can we get in Rs. 100 nowadays?
Go on, scratch your head...

Many of us (sadly and shockingly) might draw a blank. Our lives have gotten tres cheres...we are living in Grand times.
This is quite true. Take your average entertainment costs that have sky rocketed! One movie trip burns a sizzling Rs. 500 debt in an individual's pocket, if you are going to a city multiplex. Petrol up, khaana up, peena up, cigarette up, sleeping bhi up...we should value the rare, free moments that life brings us.

This year was my first year filing my taxes. I spent several hours in the last few weeks of March getting my salary and bank balance in order. I was shocked by how much I "owed" the government. "Over and above all the indirect taxes we dish out with out some times realizing, we are condemned to pay yet some more at the end of each year?!

Feeling beaten and tiny, I left for home and stopped off for a pick-me-up work out at the Bombay Gymkhana. As I was leaving, I looked across the street as I always do, toward Fashion street. This evening, it seemed that the hawkers were really calling out to me. "I mustn't ignore them," I thought as I made my way to my favorite stall. I made sure to grab the very last note I had and fortunately it was Rs. 500 - Jackpot!

15 minutes of blissful haggling later, I jumped back into my car with a little bag of new summer wear. Not bad 1 dress and 2 blouses for half a grand...I felt rich.It was comforting to know that there were still some things that were delightful and yet accessible to my threadbare wallet!

That's the great thing though, we are known as "resourceful" Indians. And it is true - we are rather resourceful - we are completely capable of often pulling a rabbit out of a hat, if that is the need of the hour. But I wonder how long we can rely on our resourcefulness? I will not cease to have the utopian hope that one fine day we shall enjoy safe and sound governance. There will be an authority that will use our money to give us smooth roads, a safe metro to commute across the ever-expanding city, water bodies in place of gutter bodies, fragrances instead of stenches........this list could go on.


How about your 100ka100 list in the mean while?