Tag Archives: life

Indian Cuisine: Favorite Bread – Paratha

Paratha

Wholesome breakfast: Fresh pan fried whole wheat bread (Paratha), seasonal fruit, fresh homemade yogurt.

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Paratha [par-AA- THA] Hindi पराठा is one of the most popular types of unleavened flat breads in Punjabi North Indian Cuisine and Pakistan.

Prepared from pan frying whole wheat dough which usually has ghee (clarified butter) or cooking oil in it, parathas are often stuffed with vegetables such as mashed boiled potatoes or aloo, cauliflower (gobhi), radish (mooli), other vegetables and or paneer (fresh Indian cheese).

Parathas, particularly the stuffed ones, are simply eaten with pickles, chutneys and or yogurt on the side and make for a wholesome meal at any time of the day.

The Surface

Gem Lake

 The Surface

—o—

We operate

You and I

We nod, we converse, we agree

We go about our business

On the surface

`

The chinks

They show on occasion

But we conceal them

Expertly shroud them

On the surface

`

And those who dare

Peep beneath

They rear aghast

At the rife ugliness they see

A cauldron of noxious brews

`

Of voices falling on deaf ears

Of conflicting emotions

Of affections forgotten

Of relations trivialized

Of promises broken

`

Yet it all appears just fine

On the surface

`

A Little Bit of Sunshine

RMNPA perfect day in Rocky Mountain National Park, CO

—o—

Grumpy

After a long work night

Battling my instincts

To fall asleep at the wheel

Or run through the red light

 

No I can’t hit the bed yet

It’s friday still

 

School drop

And chores, endless chores

Milk’s run out

And yes apples,

Can’t do without those damn apples.

 

I prowl around

In a half daze

Dumping stuff

In my recyclable cloth bag

Green is my middle name

`

 Then disaster strikes

At the checkout counter

With all my effects on the floor

On display for the world

To see and ridicule

 

And just when I was  ready

To pitch and scram

Before the tears sprout

Like from a ruptured dam

I felt a gentle tap on my arm

 

It was the grocery clerk

 

Always in attendance

With a warm smile on her face

I sighed with relief

Everything will be fine

Because of little Ms. Sunshine

Simple Pleasures

TongaThe Tonga (Horse drawn carriage) as seen on the streets of Agra, India

Simple Pleasures

—o—

I reminisce with immense fondness

 Memories of homeland shores

When life was unadulterated

And goals within reach

Such as…

Walking barefoot on the sand

Gorging cotton candy at the fair

Screaming hoarse along with the radio

And yes, the occasional pleasure ride around town

~

Tonga or Tangaतांगा Hindi meaning Hansom or Horse carriage

Life an Ugly Cousin

Sorrow

`

Life an Ugly Cousin

`

I cry again

Like a monotonous ritual

Invisible in my sorrow

Tears in the rain

 

What I thought I felt

Wasn’t  love

It was but a delusion

Of a needy mind

 

I wasn’t aware that…

My ability to endure

Is tremendous

To sustain abuse

Incredible

 

I long, crave to collapse

To dissolve in my unhappiness

I can’t

It  just won’t happen

 

At times like these

Death sounds sublime

A beautiful thing

And life an ugly cousin

Jury Duty – Not just a duty but a privilege!

JuryDuty42_sgl_PRTv1

Justice is served!

Two months ago when I received the summons for jury duty in the mail, I groaned aloud, and this I’m sure is the usual way most hapless Americans react. Because it happens to be the mandatory ‘duty’ of each and every citizen of this nation and you cannot escape from it unless you have an awfully good excuse.

And as was the case I had none. I wasn’t on my deathbed; I wasn’t the sole caretaker of a severely disabled person; I didn’t suffer from memory loss; nor did I not have a reasonable understanding of the English language. So like it had happened the last couple of times, all I could hope for was a dismissal of the case. But as they say—three times and you are it.

So on the D day (a typical sunny Colorado winter  day with not a blizzard in sight!) I presented myself at the local county combined courts wearing my best somber face (this happens to be serious business!) along with 20 or so other like minded souls.

As yours truly had predicted, the case was on the schedule. We went through the rituals; marched single file through security (I was particularly thrilled at the absence of body scanners,) then gathered in the jury room where we were checked in by the sympathetic court clerk who did her best to make us feel that we were not the ones on trial—well, she tried.

Then we had to watch the ubiquitous 15 minute video (the optimum tool for mass instruction made especially for a ‘captive’ audience.)  But to my amazement instead of having the inevitable soporific effect, I found it quite interesting. Instead of raking up my fears by another 200% it actually helped dissipate them.

Being a juror is not a bad thing after all and the following are just some of the reasons:

1. The juror is the most powerful person in a court of law, more than the judge or even the president of the United States (and that feels good!)

2. Every person is presumed innocent until proven guilty.

3. The burden of proof lies with the prosecution.

4. Defendants have the right to a quick trial by a jury of people who are not involved with the case and are not biased against them. (6th amendment to the bill of rights.)

Now feeling a lot less apprehensive and perhaps a little more excited I trooped up to the courtroom for the jury selection process. (A real courtroom!)

It was just like the ones they show on TV—a large wood paneled room with a serious looking  judge in black robes, a bailiff, a security guard, the district prosecutor with the plaintiff and of course the defence attorney with the defendant. The only thing lacking was an audience—guess it was not that high profile of a case. Yet the aura was there, I could feel it as I sat there waiting and almost wishing to be chosen as one of the potential 12, from among whom 6 would be chosen.

And my name was called! The first step had been crossed successfully.

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Love Is…

bloom

 

Love Is…

—o—

Love is innocent

Love is pure

Love is tough

It can endure

  

Love is a rock

It stands the test of time

Love is tender

A sweet surrender

 

Love is honey

Yet it can taste bitter

Love is desire

Sets hearts a twitter

  

Love is work

May take years to master

A genuine effort

Can unravel this twister

 

Love is weird

Hard to comprehend

It is a riddle

A never-ending maze

 

Love is pernicious

Most fall victim

Remedies are simple

A look, a touch, a dimple.

A Gargoyle in my Suitcase… Me and I

Gargolyle

Seen at the Denver Airport Baggage Claim

Me and I (A Conspiracy Theory)

—o—

When I stumbled onto me
A weirder thing could never be

We are but one and the same
Yet go by different names

We share the same vessel
Yet forever tussle

Like a gargoyle in my suitcase
A stranger in the mirror

I’m in a quandary
Am I…I, or am I me?