This is a corner where I share with the world my ramblings within – my conversations with myself. I come face to face with me – may be at the depths of the night or at the solitude of my car. Thoughts that gloss over, thoughts that stay – moments that are themselves transient but eternal in their appeal – get caught in the web of my mind – I pen them down whenever time permits.

Weekends come with the promise of a break from the monotony. But weekends themselves tend to fall into a template for the working women. Other than the weekly cleaning and brush up with the domestic helpers who hates the “Madam / Bhabi / Bibiji / Didi” and weekends much more than Madam hates Mondays – the weekends are meant to stock up the house  for the next week to avoid dense chaos. Even though I seem to stock everything meticulously – there is always something that I forgot last week and is urgently needed this week. It could be anything from detergent to the imported bacon. The requisition could be from anybody – me the procurer, planner, provider and manager. Amidst all this chaos – my kitchen is my solace – where I can unleash myself. It is perfect corner to exhaust my anger while chopping the greens furiously with a sharp knife. There is no better getaway to hide my grief than let the tears flow along with the pungency of onions. But most of all there is no happier moment than when my efforts are rewarded by smiling family and friends – fleeting though it may be. In fact I enjoy the transient nature of the moment – it makes me look forward to the next weekend with as much expectation and trepidation as the last one – just like a young heart that flaps wildly every time it meets the lover – till one day the lover becomes a part of the mundane existence and the magic is lost. Cooking new things, adding new recipes, trying old wine in new bottle – spike up my life – which would otherwise be a mundane walk through the same old streets. No elaborate grinding, pasting, measuring for me though – rapid-fire suits me best. Leaves me ample time later to sit with my loved ones eating, drinking, talking and sharing the labor of my love.

A mishmash of many things – that is me and my life.