Mental Excursions

My road journeys…and paneer paratha! Turn a blind eye to everything if you have to eat here! We undertook two road journeys in this first month of the year, with both falling in the category of short trips. After all, going from Mumbai to Lonavala and Lucknow to Varanasi do not merit a spot for distance in the Guiness book in any way. And I am left wondering - am I blind to the beauty that other people can observe and enjoy in nature? Am I merely a nit-picker? Does the moving car put me into a deep slumber without me being aware of it, so I miss what the others see? Mumbai - Lonavala   It took nearly two hours to get out of Mumbai in the afternoon traffic, such a vast city it is. The roads with no pavements led to shanties, makeshift small shops punctuated with sad-looking bent trees gone dry and dusty with the fumes of the traffic, or huge swanky buildings around which green trees stood proudly. Tour operators extoll the scenic beauty on the nearly 83 km Mumbai - Lonavala Road

Food for smiles! Am I reading too much in this proof of creativity? Is it merely  an innocent, straightforward description? I understand that s i gnboards are meant to guide, provide information about the wares being sold and attract customers. Yet sometimes, signboards in restaurants catch one’s attention for other reasons. The place may or may not promise to tickle your taste buds or satiate your hunger, but it does offer you a reason to smile. My sincere thanks to my friends and readers for sending me these pearls, proudly 'made in India'. Do not frown. Bless this mess for extinguishing the heat of the fiery spices used in Andhra food with so much  buttar and Punjabi food, if you please! These seem like wise suggestions! Has anyone ever tried either? I could take names of overweight filthy rich people but with their treasures they would drag me to court, so I leave it to your imagination and general knowledge. Somebody please advertise for this shop. The place sell

Time to wash away your sins! Jallikattu or bull-taming, part of Pongal in Tamilnadu Photo: Economic Times Looking back, it appears as something of an annual ritual. Every year the night of 13th January when we left for our respective homes after the Lohri (perhaps I shall write about that next year!) bonfire and celebration, the neighbourhood bebe (a term of address to an older woman often mother/grandmother) would remind me, “ Kude, kal sangraand hai, satte savere nha dho ke sohne kapde pa ke mattha tek layin (Girl, tomorrow is Sangraand. Bow before God after taking a bath and dressing up in good clothes early tomorrow morning).” By the time I heard bebe ’s call nha layi (Have you had your bath?) from across the wall in the early dark, foggy next morning, I would already have washed my hair, had my bath, and dressed in a fresh set of clothes. Salaries were low those days and a veterinary doctor got lesser than the doctor for humans, so with my father’s limited means, we tried t