Kabasura and Covid

Was pleasantly surprised when my highschool classmate, Maruti, called to wish me last month! It was such a delight to hear him dispensing health tips like a caring elder would. He wanted, almost commanded, me to buy a Siddha medicine to build immunity and keep covid at bay.

"You buy it otherwise I will send it from here. It is easily available in Tamil Nadu. Ok?" Just as the call ended, whatsapp promptly beeped with the name, method of preparation and the recommended dosage.

The spouse had his task cut out for the day: Buy Kabasura Kudineer. A mixture of dry leaves and twigs roughly powdered was soon home.

Twenty grams of it in 960 ml of water, reduced to one-fourth just as he had ordered. 20 minutes of delightful aroma of ginger, pepper, pippali, clove and a dozen other unpronouncible herbs, the kudineer was ready to be served in 4 tiny steel glasses.

One dainty sip and my tongue curled into my throat, eyeballs shot into my skull and all of my enormous self shivered like a leaf.  It was more acrid than anything I had ever tasted! Hadn't the heart to defy Maruti. I gulped it down and slumped on the couch.

My children threw up and refused to drink it. Covid. Not this! They hadn't heard Maruti extolling the kudineer in the tone he did! The man of the house had to gulp it down... you know. I don't like to boast and all but I am an awful good wife!

My children are now convinced I was a bitter bully back in school (also) and this is Maruti's revenge, neatly packed in a brown paper cover with a little window.

As it happens with life, I quietly gulp the bitterness once every two days. Thank you Maruti. I am not, and never was, a bully you see. But sorry just in case...

-Shashi

3-07-2020

(PS: Written before my experience with Covid 19. I was positive, home-quarantined, lived without smell and taste for months. I still believe my fling with Corona ended quick and easy, thanks to my new-found love for fitness, and Kabasura.)   

Eid in lockdown

Celebrated twenty and a couple more of eid ul fitrs so far.  It is always the same. There is comfort in consistency :) 

Sumptuous, somewhat unique,  breakfast of soft idlis, chicken curry with green masala and coconut chutney, a dollop of ghee and shakkar. The last two, needless to say, in my honour. The lone vegetarian in the family.

Much awaited mutton biryani, baingan ka saalan, chicken kebab, onion raitha and cucumber salad land on the dining table at around 2 pm, leaving just enough space for bisibele baath to comfortably, and respectfully, fit in.

And right by the side, a dessert spread as eclectic as it can get:  Tiramisu and trifle often with a cake casually thrown in, courtesy my lovely sister in law; Jamuns, mutanjan, kheer, falooda by our own cordon bleu, my mother in law;  and Mysore Pak with rave unde (semolina laddu), and kuchida kadubu (steamed dumplings stuffed with coconut and jaggery), my failed attempts at mal pua or Labong Latika complete the dessert spread. 

A lot of south Indian muslim cuisine, a measurable spread of Persian roots and a touch of Brahmin fare. That is the Eid spread in my household. Every year.

And my world seemed content in its place.

Not much different this year either. Let me take credit where it is due. No need to be modest. Main course, sides, desserts: all checked. By 12 sharp. Ahem! 

Well.

The little nephews and nieces running around in their new sherwanis, jumping off the sofa onto the glass centre table to our shrieks, a spilt glass of coke and a forgotten cup of tea.  In laws of all shades: brother-, sister-, mom- and father, friends and their kids milling around the table.

A medley of all ages, cultures, languages and a laugh riot. Sans this, the mutton lacked its dum and chicken its flavour.  

Hope Eid ul Adha is covid free.

(Written in 2020)

Hakuna Matata

It has been a long weekend, with just the kids and me. For me, it's 'thank god it is Monday'. They are in school and I can enjoy my mid morning cuppa in absolute peace and quiet and mull over what to blog about. Guess the cuppa that usually cheers failed to do so today. I can't think of anything useful to write about. Just rambling on as usual and wondering if I reached the 100-word-a-day target I have set for myself. Thoughts swimming in the nut nowadays are school for Kabir and if I am being too harsh on him. I can see not-so-subtle changes in his attitude towards me and that worries me. Have I done or am I doing something that is putting him off? I kept worrying till last afternoon when it dawned on me while climbing the stairs that they are my fears, not my kids' problems. I don't really have to worry about Kabir becoming violent just because he killed a wasp or a lizard. I don't really have to be worried he'll grow up a sloth if he refuses to have bath one day and I can forget about him being malnourished if he doesn't eat a day or two. All these don't amount to indiscipline. My brother and his friend used to kill frogs and stuff them in the pot. But he is the gentlest man next to my father now. I would go without food for days and now I am a healthy (?) 74 kgs. God knows how many baths I skipped while in hostel. My skin still glows and I haven't contracted any derma deseases. And finally, it is okay for him to start reading when he is comfortable. He is not going to be an illiterate! He is already literate and can write definitely more than his caretaker who has passed her 8th. Well the last comment is unsavoury but anything to pacify my mind. My son will grow up fine and I am doing a good job of a mother, even if my mother in law doesn't belive so. Oh that's a whole new story.

Reading, it is hard.

Not bad. I am back in two days. Have to practice.

Actually reading and writing are complex tasks. Realized it now when my 5-1/2 year old son is struggling to get on with reading. I have really forgotten how I mastered them. I remember the trauma when I failed my first English test in 5th standard. I studied in Kannada medium till 7th. In Dharwad where I studied till 4th, we were not taught English till 5th. But in the cosmopolitan Bangalore, English started in 1st standard even in Kannada medium schools, against the government rules! Of course, my parents were extra understanding and my kid brother and big sister helped me to tide over the crisis. That's how I came about to being a journalist and now a writer...and an english one at that. I bet my kannada skills are better. Should try my hand at that.

And now, my son literally panicked the other day when I tried to make him a read a sentence. Couldn't bear to see his tearful eyes pleading me not to make him read. Got me thinking if I were being too harsh on me li'l boy. He is otherwise a confident, calm and composed child. Wonder why a simple sentence I wrote in his book had him in tears. He reads words perfectly well though. It is a game we have been playing for over six months. I write a word and he reads it. Thought he would be ready to read sentences. Apparently not.

I wondered how I can make it easier and interesting for Kabir, my son in case you are wondering. We have started a blog, on our wall, actually. That reminds me, I have to buy him a white board. So he writes weather report in the morning. Writes the day, date and month and whatever else he wants to. Writing seems easier to him. I am hoping the exercise will help him start reading.

He has started reading Browny Bear series and Usborne Farmyard Tales. Slow and unsteady but reads nevertheless. At least he doesn't cry and panic at the sight of a bunch of words hanging together in liniarity. He is still wary of words that are long and refuses to read but keeps trying to guess the word. I am now trying to convince him that reading the word in front of him is easier than guessing it!

Will have to come back later...

Getting over writers block

I wonder why I keep having these writers' blocks every so often, which lasts up to a year? It is exactly a year since I last posted the blog. Surprisingly, I write for a living. May be I should change my profession. But you know what, writing is all I know and I am not even good at it. Think I have a confidence issue? No. I am being brutally frank with myself. I am a lousy writer. I just don't enjoy what I write. I write for technlogy companies. They in fact like some of my stuff. Now what does that say? Tech companies are so desperate for writers, they actually like anything, as long as the write-up throws up some fancy tech jargon.

I have been trying to get some dope on writing white papers. Yeah I want to improve my skills. Finally. I have been googling to learn to write better. Then it dawned on me, rather belatedly, that I have to read a good deal to be a good writer. When is the last time I read a good book? Two years ago, Jerome K Jerome's Three Men in a Boat. It is hilarious. Many probably haven't even heard of him. He belongs to the late 19th and early 20th century generation.

Now that I know I want to improve my writing skills, I have to write -- labour over is more apt -- at least 100 words a day. I will keep my word and post blogs every day...ummm.. a tall order.