Author: manuscrypts

  • A flaky post

    Paperweights. The ones with either a dancing girl/couple or a snowman at the centre. Turn it upside down, and the ‘snow flakes’ come floating down. Long trips away from routine make me feel like those flakes. I float for as long as I can, but i can’t defy the gravitational pull, there’s no way but down. All my floating is restricted to the confines of the paper weight, I can only wistfully look outside. When the upside down movement happens, I know that I’m in for a ride. I know it will be wonderful while it lasts, I also know the inevitability of the descent. In the initial moments of the floating, I am able to forget the ending, and enjoy myself, but towards the end, I end up counting the moments left. It is time to land, the journey is over.

    Remember Forrest Gump? Through the movie, there’s a white feather that floats around. A while back, I read somewhere that it represents destiny and luck, which is why it is shown to appear at opportune moments. Its free, unconfined and goes where the breeze takes it. Sometimes it gets stuck on to things, and then a gust of wind helps it resume its journey. Does it keep track of its journey, or does it just enjoy the ride?

    I read a piece by Fred Wilson recently, which talked about failure, and making mistakes, and learning from them. It led me to thinking about the words and their connotations. Both the words signify an end result that didn’t turn out the way it was supposed to. It made me realise that these days I have to figure out destinations before i start. And I’m not talking about trips or vacations, its about daily life. There are expectations set – about how the week should go, how the work should be, how the weekend should be, how the movie should be, what i should write, how it should turn out, and so on. The expectations are about people too. When it doesn’t happen the way I want it, there is a disappointment.  This might sound obvious, but I don’t know how conscious each of us are about our dependency on the plans we make, the expectations from life and what we do, our version of ‘what should be’.

    And as this happens day after day, the habit and the conditioning gets stronger, till we don’t even pause to think where this is all leading to. I realise that the more the conditioning is allowed to settle, the more the pattern for the journeys will be set, and the more it will limit the journeys that can be had. So its not even about work or entertainment or even a way of life, it is about the way the mind has begun to function, the thought processes, the walls and the defense mechanisms that  increasingly seem to have a will of their own. Somewhere along the line, there’s also the concept of ‘hope’. Hoping for a better day, a better way of life, all within the structure that I have brought into being.

    What if I let go? One of Forrest’s lines go “I don’t know if we each have a destiny, or if we’re all just floatin’ around accidental-like on a breeze. But I, I think maybe it’s both.”

    Destiny, these days, raises a paradox for me. I could say “That is my destiny”, and work on something and perhaps achieve it. Success gives satisfaction and then I move on to the next objective. So its a bit like the destinations and the traps there. Or I could say “I’ll float and let destiny take its course”. But if I did that, can I be sure where I land and what I will be is my destiny? The best destiny possible for me. Heh? Ah there, control again. In either case, it seems a retrofit. Can i un-expect, not ‘control expectations’, just un-expect? Is that getting closer to objectivity?

    It is written. The post has to end. Did you expect it to end this way? Did I disappoint? 🙂

    until next time, nishkama karma points 🙂

  • Ping

    Closed down

    Ever since we turned the corner- just off the Intermediate Ring Road, that is, and saw the place a couple of weeks back, its been on the pending list. Ping serves chinese cuisine and the specialty of the place is the variety of Dim Sum. So if you’re the kind that demands Momo, then its worth checking out. Ping is on the one way leading from the Intermediate Ring Road (Koramangala) towards Empire, Paramount, William Penn etc. After you turn right from the Ring Road (at Sukh Sagar/Kotak Bank), you’ll see it on the right. Parking two wheelers won’t be a problem, and there’s valet parking for those with double those wheels.

    The name is “derived from the Chinese character ‘Ping’ which means the best, of the highest standard and applies to food, clothing, attitude, a person’s bearing or stature…It also refers to the stuffing inside a Dim sum.” Ping has a/c and non a/c seating, and an outdoor option for ‘The Dessert Bay’, which has stone seats. I quite liked the ambience – different sections even within the non a/c section, very comfortable seating, and table options which are non intrusive. Not too many bright colors, muted lighting, and overall makes one comfortable. We got there by around 7.30, without reservations, and got a good table, but by 8 the place was nearing full capacity. We saw quite a few groups with kids, it figures- they have a Kids menu.

    This is one of those few nice places with their entire menu card online. Saves me so much work. You can check it out here. Though we had decided to try out at least two types of dim sum, we erm, chickened out, after we saw the soup options. The ‘Cilantro flavoured egg drop soup with chicken dimsum’ sounded too good to resist. We were told that the soup would take about 10 mins. Before we got the soup, we were served a complimentary Amuse Bouche. (fried wonton with a tangy-sweet lemon sauce) The soup came before scheduled time, and was thick and delicious. Highly recommended. And then there were dimsums and dimsums to choose from. After much thought, we finally settled on a “Lotus Leaf Sticky Parcels with Chicken and Shitake”. There are lots of options, for veggies, and for those who prefer consuming aquatic life. If its a large group, I think the veg/non veg platter would be a good option. The dim sum arrived quite a bit late, but thankfully the steamed combination of sticky rice, chicken and shitake wrapped in a lotus leaf was worth the wait. It was marginally spicy too, both of us liked it. The only minor problem was that one portion had 3 parcels, and splitting it evenly is quite cumbersome. 😐

    For the main course, we asked for a Seven Flavor Chicken, “Wok tossed chicken flavoured with lemon grass, roasted peanuts, chillies, hoisin sauce, basil, young ginger and bell pepper” and along with it Dragon Noodles, “Shanghai style noodles with mushrooms and spinach in spicy chilly sauce”. The chicken dish was indeed unique, but the noodles actually brought tears to D’s eyes. No, not sorrow/ecstasy etc, just the chilli dose, but we still thought it was fantastic. Highly recommended if you like spicy stuff.

    Dessert Bay is a bit of a disappointment. Though it sports a separate menu card, the choices are a few mocktails, iced teas, ice cream combinations (some good ones, though) and a few pastry mousse options. So we managed to keep desset temptations at bay.

    The meal cost us just over Rs.850, including a service charge of 7%. Its definitely worth a visit for a unique chinese cuisine, and pleasant and prompt service, except for that one delay.

    Ping restaurant & Dessert Bay, #130, 1st Cross, 5th Block, koramangala Ph: 41329357, 41521773

    Menu and Photos at Zomato

  • You and me

    The hurried breakfast, the hours in front of the computer,  the lunch at office, the work that’s done  to make a living, the dinner in front of the television, the mindless programming that occupies. I have many ways of escaping from you. On weekends, there are books to read up, movies to see, the shopping that has to be done, with or without discounts, the afternoon naps, the endless mall visits, the catching up with friends over cups of coffee, the dine outs, the posts to be written, the lifestream style to be maintained. I have a life to live, you know?

    Oh there are ways and ways of avoiding you. Even if you do confront me – those moments when you catch me off guard, I pretend not to know you. Until at some point in time, I won’t have to pretend. I really won’t know you, I won’t remember you existed. Maybe I never knew you.You were too difficult to understand. When I looked into your eyes, I was not looking in the mirror, I was looking at a different person.

    Maybe if we had met when we were younger, we would have realised we were the same person. But I never looked in the mirror then. There were others who decided for me. When I started looking in the mirror, I saw what I had been made to do, I rebelled. I didn’t realise that I was trading one set for another. You weren’t important enough. I was, and I was busy creating an image of myself. You were not.You were just you.

    Even now, I know you’re still there, you are what is, devoid of memories, or rather, the baggage of memories, while I frantically look around for what I should be. I am afraid, terribly afraid that I’ve lost you forever. I cannot try to reach you, I cannot even say that one day I will be you. I am you, or I am not. It takes a moment. I realise there is no middle path. I make my theories, I lean on my faith, I say that in another world I am better off, anything to be not you. For we both know that you will step out of the mirror, only if I cease to exist. I acknowledge you, but this is a fight for survival, of all the things that have made me, me. I fervently hope that I lose. I write this, so that I never forget. That in the mirror, it’s not me, its you. And we’re different. As different as the same person can be.

    until next time, the  battles within

    PS. The thought continued from last week, also found some kindred thoughts  (thanks to The Time Traveler’s Wife)

    Love After Love

    Derek Walcott

    The time will come
    when, with elation
    you will greet yourself arriving
    at your own door, in your own mirror
    and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

    and say, sit here. Eat.
    You will love again the stranger who was your self.
    Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
    to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

    all your life, whom you ignored
    for another, who knows you by heart.
    Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

    the photographs, the desperate notes,
    peel your own image from the mirror.
    Sit. Feast on your life.

  • Oye! Amritsar – Koramangala

    Since we’ve frequented both Oye Amritsar and Oye Shaava on Church Street, and enjoyed the experience, we were eagerly looking forward to the opening of Oye Amritsar in our own neighbourhood. The Koramangala version is in the building just before China Pearl, the same road as Vicky’s and The Esplanade too – the one-way connecting Inner Ring Road with the road from Forum to National Games Village. (refer either of the first two links for a detailed route). Parking is not too difficult, in any case there are many sidelanes on that road.

    Since we planned to be there early, we didn’t reserve, but if you’re planning to be there after 8pm, reservations would help. The restaurant is on the first floor, and just like the Church Street version, watch out for the awesome posters on the stairway and actually all over the place. This seems to be a bigger place with indoor-outdoor seating options. The terrace faces the road, so its a good place to watch the world go by, if weather permits. It did, and there we sat. The only snag with the tables on the terrace is the lack of sufficient light – its difficult to read the menu, but you could ask for candles.

    The dhaba theme and the ambience is the same as Church Street, but looks like the menu has been changed a bit. It’s been quite a while since i visited, so there might have been updates I’m not aware of. They serve alcohol too, here, and the bar seems to be decently well stocked.

    The menu begins with veg starters, quite a few, and in addition to that, there are also tawa fried options. About a dozen options combined, priced, on an average, at Rs.90/165 for a half /full plate. This half plate option is something  i remember liking at Oye Shaava, so it’s good to see it in action here. There are also many options in non veg starters – chicken, mutton, prawns, and fish, priced at Rs.115-145/225. And if you’re the shorba kind, there are a total of 3 options – one each in veg, chicken and mutton, priced at Rs.60-80. The veggies really have no reason to complain, since I saw over 20 options for the main course. (Rs.145-165). In fact, I’d say there are fewer options in non-veg, but there are enough to choose from there too (Rs.180-345), including bheja and gurda, for those who love ‘spare parts’. To go with that, there are rotis/naans/kulchas (Rs.30-45) and rice options (Rs.110-165).

    So we decided to skip the shorba, and since the half plate option was available, we ordered two starters . Two half starters equal to one starter and all that logic.  The Dhuanwali Lahori Seekh (“Lahore, Paris of the East, home to the most creative chefs of the land of five rivers, crafted this seekh kebab of lamb mince smoked with coal embers and butter, skewered and tandoored”) and the Pahalwani Dhabe ka Maahi Tikka (“the famous rawas fish specially flown down from Amritsar and cooked to recipe by our friend Pahalwan Makhan Singh at his famous Maqbool Road eatery”). The Lahori seekh kebab completely disappointed, it was quite rubbery, and honestly, i have tasted better. I actually gave half a kebab (a non veg kabab) to D, so you can imagine. But thankfully, the Maahi tikka made up for it. We had to remind the guys for the pudina sauce though.

    For the main course, we ordered a Murgh Lahori (“whole chicken cooked with all the glory of Punjab Sindh flavor) and a Bheja Fry (“lamb brains cooked in a spicy masala on the tawa”), and to go with that a Makki di Roti, and a Masalawala Kulcha. We also added an Amritsari Kulcha later. Both the dishes were extremely good, though the chicken dish wasn’t boneless. Excellent thick gravy, though. The brain fry is not recommended.. to those who cannot handle spice 😀 This one could actually compete for the best brain fry I’ve had, not including D’s of course.

    The dessert section has the usual suspects – gulab jamun, phirni, jalebi, kulfi with rabri etc. (Rs.90-100) I haven’t seen a Gajrela and a Rasbhari before though. I would’ve tried at least one of them, but was too stuffed. There’s also a paan guy downstairs, in case you’re in the mood for the betels. 🙂

    All of the above cost us Rs.900, that includes a service charge of 7.5%. Slightly inflated because they billed us for a full plate Bheja Fry even though we had ordered only a half plate. (that would’ve been sufficient) For those who haven’t been to Oye Amritsar on Church Street, you should definitely try this out. For those who have, you know why you need to drop in. 🙂

    Oye! Amritsar, 54, Canara Bank Road, 6th Block Koramangala, Ph: 080 40994451

    Menu and photos at Zomato

  • The Onam tag

    Today is Onam. I’ll get wished – “Happy Onam”, and I’ll mutter a thanks/flash a smile, hopefully not weary/ type a ‘thanks’ with a smiley that will not reflect the emotions within. That’s perhaps apt, because there aren’t many emotions within. I concluded a Kerala visit last weekend, and felt compelled to figure out what I was feeling. – for Cochin, as always, and for Onam, because it was the season.

    I sit in the fancy store, as D and another M swan around trying to find appropriate things to hang from their neck/ears/hair. They aren’t alone, there is an assortment of folks of their gender, all there for the same purpose. Sometime during their existence, the store owners figured out that those of the other gender would really be lost souls in such a place, so they made sure there was a corner where they could be lost souls without impinging on the ecstasy of the real shoppers. A nice goodwill gesture. And so there I sit, with my companion, which never fails to respond to my touch, and type a few words, which are then saved in the messages drafts folder. Alternately gawking and typing, and realising that the shoppers would be here again very soon, in search of the latest trends in accessories. Fashions change quickly, after all.

    I move around the city that once used to be undisputed home, and familiar feelings bob up. Things have changed, and it is perhaps no longer undisputed. An old breakfast joint, which has many memories attached to it, has changed its name. I look up at an old building, hoping to catch a glimpse of the old lending library that set the tone for many current reading habits. It no longer exists. It is strange how, these days, when I go back to Cochin, I have mixed feelings. Where once there was only a sense of belonging, the changes have ensured that there is now also a sense of un-belonging. Earlier, I couldn’t fully grasp this feeling, could one be homesick at home? But then I remember a comment that Cyn had made on an old post – “An Idea called Home“, where she described it as being ‘homesick for a life stage’. There’s an image of Cochin that exists only in my mind, with many tags, its from an age long ago.

    I watch a movie – ‘Rithu‘ (Seasons), in a theatre complex that had 3 screens from the time I knew it, back in the 80’s. Music composed by an old school pal. (that deserves a post too…soon) Its a lovely story about childhood friends, about how their relationship(s) change when they grow up, and how they themselves have changed. I realise that its not just places, we also ‘tag’ people at different stages of our lives and we often don’t bother to update the tag, a kind of self-conditioning. Parents, siblings, friends, relatives, they have all been tagged at some point and not updated after some point, the tags define how we behave with them at every point later in life.  Over time, each believe they have different priorities/viewpoints/interests and so on,  maybe that’s why sometimes when we are ready for a relationship, they aren’t, and vice versa. There’s a chance that we will miss the opportunity to form a bond. We fail each other, without even realising it. We change, we move on, but the tags, in many ways, remain constant.

    I also realise that we do it to ourselves too – tags. We make images of ourselves which define what we say and do. We tag ourselves. We rarely acknowledge that and proceed to make up our own justifications, which suit us/others. They make sense at a particular point in time, they may or may not later. Yet, we live by them. Do we revisit the tags…objectively?

    One of the reasons, I store thoughts and feelings here is because I want to look back. Who was I in that September of 2009, what was i feeling, what was i thinking, can i understand me at a later point? It is amazing how some earlier posts give perspectives about the self, that had been forgotten. Time has a way of distorting, hopefully these tags will aid me in objectivity at a later point.

    Meanwhile, almost every shop has the ‘Onam Discount’ board put up. There are restaurants that have already announced their ‘sadya‘ rates. What is Onam to me? At a very young age, I had thought it was someone’s wedding since that was the other time we used to have a sadya on banana leaves. Memories – ten days of school holidays, a trip – most likely to Palakkad, meeting up with the vast set of paternal relatives and a few days of fun, collecting flowers for making pookkalams, dressing up in the traditional mundu, visits to temples, and so on. These are childhood memories and it is interesting how the memories dwindle as I look back to the later years of my life. The recent memories are somehow more indistinct, not separated much from the days before or after, except for the special (new) movies that get shown on television. I wonder whether I should stay back for a few more days and script a few new tags. I don’t. So, ironically, Onam survives, on its early tags. For now, I think that’s best. And as the line in that movie goes, I eagerly await the next Rithubhedam (change of seasons) of my mind.

    until next time, thanks for tagging along on a mind ride 🙂

    PS. For a more light hearted approach to Onam, you could check out my version of the myth, my Ram Gopal Varma version and the 55 word view.