Author: manuscrypts

  • Wake up call

    He liked watching her sleep. She looked so much at peace now, wrapped up in that something-like-a-shawl thing. But he’d have to wake her now, to tell her that he’d finally cracked a puzzle. Now he knew why reality shows worked. People would rather watch someone sleeping than the movie for which they paid Rs.200.

    until next time, in reality….

  • Fresco’s

    Fresco’s gets very close to a chocaholic’s version of heaven, so we make up excuses to go there, even though its on Cunningham Road, and not so close to home. Its on Cunningham Road, within 100m of entering it, a couple of buildings after the Foodworld (?), and its not visible from the road. But there’s lots of parking available outside and some space inside too.

    Fresco’s is a semi-outdoor kind of space, quite cosy and is always buzzing during dinner time (at least weekends, when we go). And this time was no exception. So you might want to reserve before going. We didn’t and were asked to wait for a few minutes. Fair, but what was quite dumb was giving us a seating that was uncovered, especially when there were intermittent showers happening all through the day. So we asked for a different table. We should have taken this as a premonition. We didn’t, since we’d never been given any reason to complain from our previous visits.

    It took us quite sometime and a reminder to get hold of a menu card. And though it took a long while for our soup to be created, the Chicken and Coriander soup we ordered was excellent and succeeded in putting our fears to rest..to an extent. It comes a close second to the soup at Tangerine I’d written about earlier.

    For the main course, we ordered a couple of sizzlers, a Chicken Parmigiana and a Chicken Cordon Blue (Bleu, i thought ?), chose the latter by voting out a Parsi Chicken 🙂 We’d chosen the rice option for the former and pasta for the latter, and they succeded in reversing that. I got them to give us Rice for the Parmigiana, but didn’t insist on the pasta. I was too hungry!!

    The Parmigiana is chicken breast with herbs, crumb fried served with pomadoro sauce and Parmesan cheese grattinated. The wife says it tasted a bit like pizza, and was reasonably good. The Cordon blue  is chicken salami and cheese wrapped with chicken breast, grilled, and topped with mushroom and concasse. It was good in patches, burnt at some places, but perfectly well made in others. The rice was good too, wonder if the pasta would’ve been better. And both were sizzling hot, good for a rainy night if only they had been done well.

    The dessert choice here is always difficult, and there is always a lot of heartburn when we can’t test out new talent 🙂 We chose the Chocolate Demise, and as always didn’t have any reason to complain.

    The experience can be summed up best with the bill we got for all the above – Rs. 911. The service this time was extremely poor, and except for the soup and the dessert, the food was only reasonably good. I think a visit now would happen only when desserts warrant, and only for that.

    Hatworks Boulevard, 32, cunningham Road, Ph: 41327551/5

  • Faith

    So, how did it all start off? An understanding that there was a higher power that controlled destinies and the world around beyond any level that a man could aspire or imagine ? A need to connect to this entity and lay out the easiest way to do so? A way of bringing together people and making them work towards a common goal? A physical platform to relate to the belief in a metaphyical entity? Perhaps, and perhaps not.
    Somewhere in between, came the ones who claimed to have gone much closer to the entity than their peers. And they formed the higher power through prisms that were based on their individual realities and expectations, and their peers, who at best, were a confused lot, followed. Faith became religion and from a thought, became a set of practices, and from us, we became us and them.

    And that makes me wonder whether He, any He, feels the need for religion. And brings me to an unintentionally hilarious but profound statement from an old Malayalam movie, where the character states, in all seriousness to a priest, ” In religion, and in sex, I don’t feel the need for middlemen” 🙂

    until next time, profundity or profanity?

  • The Art of Breathing

    ‘Breathe in’ said the instructor. A collective intake of breaths followed. ‘Now hold until I tell you’, he continued. The stillness followed for some excruciating seconds. Just as he said ‘Exhale’, a sound erupted which prompted quite a few giggles. ‘..through the mouth’ said the instructor, with a deadpan expression, and without missing a beat.

    until next time, gas chambers

  • Taj

    Colin De Silva

    More than the Taj itself, the book’s focus is on the man who built it, or rather had it built – Shah Jahan. In tracing his life and highlighting the love of his life – Mumtaz Mahal, the book touches upon four generations of Moghul rule, starting with Akbar and ending with Aurangzeb. While Taj remains a work of fiction, it borrows heavily from history, and well known characters like Nur Jehan and Jehangir have important roles to play.
    The story focuses on the intrigue that was part of the Mughal court and its machinations, and the impact that it had on determining the emperor of India. It follows the life of Shah Jahan, from the time he was a young prince, to his death, as an emperor deposed by his own son.
    Perhaps the tale is best summarised by the words of one of the characters in the book, and which would best represent the lives of each of the characters – “With any human being, an aim becomes an ambition, an ambition, a compulsion, a compulsion an obsession, which can only destroy the human being”. While, for most of the characters, the aim was the Moghul throne, for Shah Jahan, there was an additional one – The Taj.
    In essence, a good book to read to get a glimpse of what life must have been during the days of the dynasty that defined Indian history for quite a few centuries. If interested in more historical accuracy, i would suggest ‘Emperors of the Peacock Throne’ by Abraham Eraly