2. 2
Camera. Roll. Action.
Mist covered morning. A garden with burst of colors.
Aroma of cakes and puli-pithas from pasher-bari.
Some Anjan Dutta number in loops from
somewhere. Cosy blanket. Your favorite thriller. Ah,
Life.
Cut.
15.01.2015
Heaven is in mind. And a few moments of read of
this Jhaalmuri Winter Special is sure to transport
you to such an wonderful, heavenly place. So do the
contributors think. It is yet another attempt from us
to soothe your urbane mind. We sincerely hope that
whichever part of the world you may be in, this
good read is sure to make your winter even more
merrier.
On a personal front, I made a trip to a National
Forest in India recently. It made me realise how very
far we are drifting away from the nature - that our
eyes have turned blind to the swiftest movement of
birds, or the softest sound the animals. Did we lose
our sense in an ever increasing fog of dust? Is our city
life making us a little more numb every moment?
3. 3
A plan to bid goodbye to city life might sound
ultra-romantic. But it's not so easy to go back closer
to the nature. But we can still bring a bit of nature
to our urban window - by joining this pursuit of
creativity, by spreading creativity. And by
spreading happiness.
This Winter Special edition of Jhaalmuri has a
bunch of goodies. Prof Sugata Sanyal brings back
to life a lost segment from mythology in his own
version of “Anasuya-Priyambada” tale. Anwesha
Sengupta is back with yet another classic –
„Rupkatha Noy‟. Digbijay Bandopadhyay‟s „Present
Continuous‟ deals with the simple complexities of
mind. And Anindita Das takes us with her on a
visual trip to nature at Tinchulay. And if you
thought that was not enough, we do have a
wonderful collection of choicest poems, recipes and
photography.
This is our first publication of 2015. We hope to
have a very colorful and creative year ahead -
filled with more publications, contests and
creativity. Till then…
Happy Reading.
Suparna
4. 4
Anasuya
Priyambada
Charitkatha
Sugata Sanyal 5
রূকথা নয়
Anwesha
Sengupta 13
The Story of Mugli
Sugata Sanyal 21
Present
continuous
Digbijay
Bandopadhyay 25
Anindita Das 29
অরুন্ধতীয প্রতত
Biswajit
Chakraborty 34
এসা, আগাছা তু তর।
Biswajit
Chakraborty 35
বফরাসল
Krishna Dutta 36
রূকথাযা
Krishna Dutta 37
আয কততদন?
Anamitra Raha 38
ডু ফজর
Bratati
Chakraborty 40
বল বদখা
Anamitra Raha 41
াতযসয় ায়া
Deboshree
Bhattacharjee 42
The Nail
Sugata Sanyal 44
বাঙা
Sayan
Chakraborty 46
আতভ ঝারভুতি
Rajib Chowdhury 47
বখয়াতর ভন
Deboshree
Bhattacharjee 48
Baked Egg Curry
Arundhati Paul 50
Chicken
DakBunglow
Ankita
Chatterjee 52
Date Walnut Cake
Urmita Ghosh 54
Fruit Cake
Urmita Ghosh 56
Photography I
Aayush Ghosh 58
Photography II
Purna Banerjee 59
6. The Story So Far: Shakuntala, the adopted daughter of Rishi Kanva
and the real daughter of Menaka and Visvamitra, was separated from her
husband, King Dushyanta, due to the curse of Rishi Durvasa who was
quite infamous for his temper and curses. During this separation, she was
carrying the child of King Dushyanta and their son, Bharat, would one
day lead the Puru Kingdom and would also initiate the dynasty of
Bharat. They did meet after the curse was lifted (most curses had an
escape clause).
What happened when Shakuntala left the ashram of Kanva:
Shakuntala had left the ashram with some escorts. Her close friends,
Anasuya and Priyamvada, were left behind. They were roughly of the
same age and were quite beautiful themselves.
Anasuya: O dear Priyamvada, Shakuntala has managed it quite well.
Hooked a husband who is a big king; she is also carrying his child. She is
all set.
Priyamvada: Anasuya, we should be happy for her. Shakuntala got a
head-start, no doubt there, but we too need to set up ourselves.
Anasuya: What do you plan to do? Do we stand there below the Big
Banyan tree and anoint ourselves with sandal-paste and other stuff?
Good husband material is rare (it holds true even today, same goes for
good wife material too).
Unknown to them both two brothers - broad shouldered, learned and of
royal heritage - were heading towards the ashram of Rishi Kanva.
Indrasen, the elder of the two, was a very learned person. He was tall, a
little dark but was very handsome. Chandrasen, the younger, was
endowed with a golden complexion, was equally learned, and was also
quite handsome. As the tension level was less those days; people were
generally quite calm and cool type. They had to learn their lessons,
almost all of them, as it was a ritual which can only be compared to the
coaching classes of the present days.
6
7. And Gurus were not charging much, except that the disciples had to do all
the household chores at the house of the Guru. They had to get up early in
the morning, feed the cows, help the Guru's wife with the starting of the
day's cooking e.g. getting good quality wood for lighting fire, fetching
water, cleaning the courtyard etc. And in between, they also had to tend to
thousand other small works. That was the fee.
When Indrasen and Chandrasen entered the serene atmosphere of the
outskirt of the ashram of Rishi Kanva, they felt quite good. Finally they
came to that famous Banyan tree which these girls were talking about.
Anasuya and Priyamvada also came there almost at the same time. We will
see these cosmic coincidences again and again. Now-a-days, some branch
of science has evolved around these and one can almost accurately
calculate the chances of various things happening. Here, as we are a few
thousand years behind the present time, and as mathematics was still
being taught at the feet of the Guru and not at the University level, we will
proceed with our present state of affairs, without too much calculation.
Some empirical values will be used now and then.
To carry the coincidence further, Madan, the God of love (what is a love
story without HIM!) was passing by this area. And as he was tired due to
his globe-trotting, he had decided to take a little rest. Brahma, one of the
Trinity of the senior most Gods, had assigned the Department of Love to
Madan. Madan was quite a cheerful character. He was also happy moving
around the universe and making people fall in love. That was his main
duty. He was given only a bow and a quiver full of arrows. When Madan
saw any possible and probable couple, his job was to take his bow and
arrow, and strike the couple with his shot. He was quite accurate in his
aim, and he hardly ever missed. The very thought that he was making so
many couples fall in love while he himself remained alone made him
depressed and triggered acidity. Brahma therefore allowed him to have
Rati, a beautiful Goddess, as his wife. As Madan was not really expected to
shoot himself and Rati with his own love bow and arrow, Brahma gave a
special blessing that they would remain in love through eternity. So Rati
was safe from any chance of Madan straying away from her, then on.
Incidentally, Madan was known to have a roving eye.
Anasuya Priyambada Charitkatha
7
8. Coming back to the present moment, Madan too landed exactly on the spot
where these people were there: Anasuya and Priyamvada; Indrasen and
Chandrasen. Here comes a twist in the story. Madan was continuously doing
his duty. Having an experimental temperament he had tried his hand on
couples from many species: birds, squirrels, horses as well as the usual
Homo sapiens. Incidentally, he had tried his luck on Lord Shiva too, with a
disastrous consequence. His quiver was supposed to be always full (auto-
filled from Heaven) but there was a short supply of this special arrows from
Heaven. Vishwakarma, the God of Instruments, was paying over-time to the
subordinate Gods in his department, to keep up with this problem. It was a
supply and demand issue.
Madan saw two couples, Anasuya and Indrasen; Priyamvada and
Chandrasen. But he had only one arrow and the time was critical. Parties
had just arrived, mild breeze was blowing, and there was Anasuya and
Priyamvada who were both sad without Shakuntala. They were doubly sad
with their own plight. Doing PhD and MBA was not so much in vogue
amongst girls; they were told that before the age of 20 (empirically
speaking), getting good husband is a necessity. And the hermitage was a
rather sad place for match making. Madan was in a dilemma; he had only
one arrow, and two sets of couples. It was a great chance but the situation
was turning sticky.
By now, both the couples had seen each other. Anasuya got attracted to
Chandrasen and Priyamvada to Indrasen. On the other hand, Madan had a
different plan - Anasuya should hitch to Indrasen and Priyamvada to
Chandrasen. As you may closely observe, even in those days, complex love-
quadrangles existed. Later on, now-a-days, copious copying of these ideas is
observed in various movies. But as no ancient scriptwriter was smart
enough to think of copyrights, such copying is allowed freely.
Madan (to himself): What a rotten luck! Here I am within the bowshot of
two girls and two boys of right and ripe age - and I have to run out of arrows
now! This is not done! All I needed was one more arrow. Then I would have
completed the job and would have gone home to Rati and could have
relaxed with a little Somrasa (alcoholic drinks) and we could have taken in a
dance by Rambha, as well. (Rambha was a famous dancer in the heaven.)
What should I do? Should I send an SMS to Brahma, and ask for his advice?
Anasuya Priyambada Charitkatha
8
9. Of course, sending an SMS to God Indra would be more appropriate and
effective as Indra has huge experience. (Indra, the king of all Gods, was
quite high in the hierarchy of the Gods and was just lower than the
Trinity of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. He was quite a character!) Madan
was about to take out his cosmic mobile when a brilliant idea struck him.
Madan, during his early age, was an apprentice at the workshop of God
Vishwakarma. He had a strong knowledge of Engineering Mechanics. He
took out the bow, put the arrow in it, pulled the string up to the complete
length, and let go. The arrow flew, and it struck people in this order
(please be careful and pay attention): it first struck Anasuya, reflected
from there to Chandrasen, then it again got reflected from there to
Priyamvada and then finally to Indrasen. Madan had used a special
technique (akin to Boomerang but more advanced) whereby the single
arrow kept bouncing from person to person and of course made them fall
in love with each other.
Now the real fun began. Anasuya and Chandrasen felt a strong attraction
towards each other. It was not exactly what Madan had planned, but it
was the best that could have been done with a single arrow, in a short
time span. Priyamvada and Indrasen also felt a strong tug between their
hearts' inner core. No issues there either. The main hitch came during the
passage of the arrow between Chandrasen and Priyamvada. Priyamvada
got in to a double whammy. The arrow passage was such that any two
persons (of opposite sex of course) it touches in sequence, fall in love.
Priyamvada was caught between two persons, Chandrasen on the left and
Indrasen on the right. Please refer to Picture below:
Anasuya Chandrasen Priyamvada Indrasen
Passage of Madan's Arrow
Anasuya Priyambada Charitkatha
9
10. Priyamvada: Oh! Anasuya!! My heart is torn between the two sides.
What should I do? What have I done? Girls in the ashram do not even get
one man, and I am torn between two.
Anasuya: Mind, Priyamvada - we are very good friends. I would like to
keep Chandrasen for myself and no sharing business here! Do we
understand each other clearly?
Priyamvada: Of course Anasuya, I do. I also want to be with Indrasen
only, but this arrow business has befuddled my heart completely (started
crying).
Madan realized that he cannot remain invisible and keep playing his
tricks. Time has come to show up. So he appeared in the scene. He had his
bow in one hand, quiver with no arrow in the other hand, and his beatific
smile. Madan also felt quite distraught seeing Priyamvada crying her heart
out. He had a very soft heart and was very sympathetic towards the female
species. He had quite a few tumbles, with a huge number of girls, while he
was an apprentice God in this business, before Rati had come in the scene.
Rati, a tough lady, made sure that this got stopped.
Madan: What seems to be the trouble, my dear Priyamvada?
Priyamvada: (in half-choked voice) Oh Lord, I am being torn between
two men. I want Indrasen, but you have complicated the issue by allowing
your Engineering Mechanics funda. Now that the arrow has come from
Chandrasen, my heart is not exactly under my control.
Though you Gods are allowed to have consorts, I am one-man girl.
Basically I want Indrasen; else I will start "priopavesana" (fast unto
death).
[Note: there were special allowances here. During this "priopavesana", one
was allowed to take various liquids, juices etc, but those details are for
some other time].
Anasuya Priyambada Charitkatha
10
11. Madan: What can I do, my dear? I had only one arrow and I also had
to complete my quota of the number of couples shot. Brahma had
issued me a sharply worded memo the other day, saying that due to
my backlog the total head-count of human race is going down. [Note:
in those good old days of sparse population, special incentives were
offered for early marriage and bigger families.]
Priyamvada: Whatever you want to do is your business. I want
Indrasen, and not both. Already Anasuya has scratched my face
thinking that I am trying to snatch Chandrasen from her. And you
very well know that that is not the case here. Your half-baked
engineering knowledge has mucked up the whole situation. You better
do something and NOW!! (Starts crying)
Madan realized that this is serious. He has to undo this complex
connectivity. As mentioned earlier, there were lot of counteractions
possible, and Madan was tugging at his moustache very hard, to find
the optimal solution.
Madan to Priyamvada: Please find that arrow my dear and please be
quick with it. It is still potent. But its potency will run out after 30
minutes (again empirical value). Then you will be eternally stuck
between the two.
A frantic search was ON. Everybody was searching. Chandrasen was a
little less enthusiastic as he did not mind having two girls. But
Anasuya was also quite clear that she did not want to share her
Chandrasen. Indrasen was equally forceful in his search for the same
reason. Priyamvada was serious but was not able to see clearly as she
had cried and her vision was blurred. Finally a squirrel came to help
them. He was passing by. He simply picked up the fallen arrow by a
make-shift tong and passed it to Madan without touching it. Madan
had once net- practiced on a bunch of squirrels and there was a huge
chaos amongst them. So our squirrel was quite careful.
Anasuya Priyambada Charitkatha
11
12. Madan took back the arrow; he had to put some special spell on this
arrow to make it act in reverse gear, and then made Chandrasen and
Priyamvada stand next to each other. Then he let go of the arrow. It first
touched Priyamvada and then Chandrasen, in the reverse sequence. And
the bond was broken.
Just to sum up, now it was two pairs, Anasuya and Chandrasen;
Priyamvada and Indrasen. And by then Rishi Kanva had arrived. Much
before any fresh complexity start again, both the couples asked for
blessings from Rishi Kanva and got it too.
This part was somehow missing in all the stories of Shakuntala, but we
were determined that the real story comes out to all. And of course,
Chandrasen and Indrasen took their lovely brides home and there was a
re-marriage (each girl unto her chosen man) with lot of pomp. Both the
girls were quite clear that this marriage by arrow touching and a quick
garland exchange is not enough. It gives no scope to show the
ornaments. And they lived happily ever after!!!!
Anasuya Priyambada Charitkatha
12
21. A tallish man in his 40’s sitting on the little
shadow of a makeshift shelter had his wrinkled
eyes fixed on a distant piece of cloud high above
the Arabian Desert. The man placed his
weathered hand above his black dry eyes, used
mainly to keep watch on goats, to examine
whether that exceptionally rare piece of cloud
was able to soak the coarse sand below, even for
some brief moments.
Can you imagine this? If you do, this is Mugli.
MUGLI
The story of
21
Photo: panoramio.com
Sugata Sanyal
22. Mugli is from a village called Bomenabeli in Karimnagar district of Andhra
Pradesh, a short drive away from Hyderabad, thousands of kilometers away
from the desert, his work place for the past 11 years.
It was on a flight from Hyderabad to Mumbai where we met Mugli. We
wanted the aisle and the next seat. He reached a few minutes later,and with
silent dignity, offered us the window seat. Something in him touched both
me and my wife, Nandini. I saw that he had a passport and some forms,
apart from his ticket. I was a bit curious, nobody carries passport on
domestic flights. On asking, he explained that he is going to take another
flight from Mumbai to Riyadh in Saudi Arabia, the same evening.
One word led to another and he started telling his story, interrupted by my
occasional questions. He talked in his unique way – neither slowly nor
quickly, in the most matter of fact way, as if he was not talking of himself,
but of someone else. Born in a poor farmer’s family, Mugli has a home in
his village where his wife, his three children and parents stay. His brothers
and other family members are also there in the village which he hoped to
visit again, not before another four years.
Eleven years back, he had paid a good amount of money to a middleman, to
land up this coveted job at a near desert place, where the closest human
connectivity is in a village called Al Goya, about 20 km away.
According to his contract, if we can call it one, after he would land at
Riyadh, his employer Abdullah would pick him up. Abdullah has a job and
family in Riyadh. But he also has this flock of goats which Muglilooks after.
And he is keeping them well for the past 11 years.
“How often do you go home, Mugli?”
“Every 4 years, sahib…My employer takes my passport and other papers
and I am totally dependent on him.”
“What if there is case of some emergency back home?”
“Nothing, sahib. My family can only contact Abdullah. He meets me once in
10 days or so, when he brings rice, flour, and some vegetables for me… Oh
yes, he also brings drinking water”.
Mugli has around 350 goats under his care. He gets up at 5 am, makes the
kids suckle and then leaves his shanty to take the herd for grazing.
22
23. There are places in the desert where shrubs grow and the animals feed on
them. After working from 5 am till 1 pm, he takes a one-hour break for
cooking and lunch and some rest. Then again from 2 pm to 7 pm, the
farmer from India manages the grazing goats on the Arabian Desert and
then calls it a day, only to start the same routine the next morning, day
after day, year after year…
Once he fell ill. And he walked 10 km to reach the nearest highway, stopped
a car going to Riyadh and requested those on board to pass on a message to
Abdullah along with his phone number. Medicines came nine days later,
along with the routine stuff.
When the familiar faces of the goats become unbearable and even the
occasional visit of some snakes become routine, Mugli goes out to meet
some human souls. Managing a little time to go the village 20 km away,
Mugli calls on some people and sometime, if he is lucky, he gets to meet
some other goatherds on the way. Otherwise, the stars
give him company at night in the dark dry desert.
“If you don’t mind Mugli, how much do you get?”
“I had started with 500 Riyals when I had joined, 11 years back. Now I get
700 Riyals. Abdullah sends 500 Riyals to my family, and I manage with
200 Riyals for a month. Seven hundred Riyals are around Rs 8400, Sahib.”
It’s not much money to spend such a life in exchange for, Mugli knows that.
But he had not got any chance to study nor had any money. He did not have
much alternative. Mugli knows a little driving. He sometimes uses the
vehicle of Abdullah to get some commodities from the village, when he
comes down to pass him his food. But that is not experience enough nor
relevant to get him a driving job at Hyderabad. And so…
Our plane was mid-way between Hyderabad and Mumbai. We had gone
from Mumbai to Hyderabad for some work, and the phenomenal growth of
Hyderabad has struck a deep cord. The new airport could compete with any
airport in the west. I could not absorb the absurd situation of this fellow
passenger for an hour and five minutes, who is calmly living a life in an
absurd condition.
Mugli
23
24. Mugli had an aura of calmness around him. I asked him that is this
the life what he is going to lead for the next many years. “I will come
back after four years, Sahib, and I will not go back this time. I think I
will do some farming in my village.”
Isn’t there any rain for Mugli, to drop from the sky on his fried frame
or soul? Yes, once or twice a year, there could be some countable
drops but the sand sucks that too and nothing remains as a sign of
rain after a few minutes.
But Mugli remembers one rain. One night when he was sleeping,
about six years back, he felt that it was raining hard outside, the flash
of lightning making the vast expanse of sand appear as a gigantic wet
carpet. Rainwater was dripping from the porous roof, and falling and
caressing his veined forehead, closed eyes and coarse lips. Mugli
jumped from his bed and ran outside his hut to get drenched.
Outside, he found, it was as dry as ever before. No rain, no lightning.
Only the stars were winking at him, mocking him for thinking a
dream a reality.
That night, the desert goatherd realized his tear glands were yet to get
dried up in this barren sea of sand.
The plane landed at the Mumbai airport, I held his hand and bid him
good bye. “Lord Shankar will look after you,” Mugli had a deep source
of inner strength.
It is long past mid-night here in Mumbai. I was unable to sleep as the
image of Mugli never moves away from our eyes. I close my eyes for a
moment, and I see that a tallish figure is standing on a sand-dune,
early in the morning, in a desert of Saudi Arabia. Is he seeking some
thing? May be a few drops of water to perch his dry lips. May be not.
Mugli has the answer inside; he is content with his lot. He does not
have any expectation. He has achieved nirvana.
Mugli
24
26. ...just wanted to show off the efforts, while it was not required, the effort
of walking while I could take transport...of taking a longer route as usual
just to get some whiff of the same lane ,as I knew , she would have
passed a few hours back on her way back to her home from her office.
The effort of counting the metres and steps....10000, 20000...maybe I
was trying too hard to count while I was keeping away her thoughts
from just entering my screwed head...I know it sounds crazy...and makes
no sense at all. But am sure, there are times when you just do not go by
normal logic, or rather logic of so called civilised folks… where things
and actions are expected to be just...backed by thoughts and logic. For
me, thinking without those seemed like a break to me. There is a
pressure of behaving and thinking the right way. It gave me the freedom
of looking at the so called normal routines from a different angle and
made me wonder, what if, this was done that way and that was done this
way...a random way… a way it’s not expected to be done. I was walking,
and of course taking pride in what I thought about it. I used to feel a
sense of relief whenever I saw myself doing something like this, I would
break into a smile and a song...and feel my moment of bliss just like
that.
It was a little different now, in my mind I was anxious about something
or rather someone. To be specific , it was the unknown part , of what was
coming next that was keeping me anxious. But why was I so bothered?
There I was pondering over my next step...of going to her again in last
two days...or to just consider if she will just find my excesses...the devil
said don’t while my saint self kept mum. I felt me looking intently at
myself. This would be as if I stood somewhere...and statue!! I come out
of me and have a look at self...!! It was in some music video I had seen
sometime...and I had thought wow!! This could mean absolute crap to
somebody...but to me...it was meaningful.. as if you get a chance to have
a good look at yourself...your thoughts...like from someone else’s
perspective. It may be absurd...but then everything needn’t mean sense.
It was as if to look judgmentally to pass a verdict on the actions I had
taken.
26
27. This would happen often and seemed at my will..anytime..anyplace...any
situation. But frankly...I hated it if I found someone judging me. I felt,
judging someone for one action may be so wrong to judge a person...there
are so many facets ...so many things that someone does.
The turmoil, the drops of sweat felt like a strange mix...with none really
mixing... somehow I felt that she will just notice...and I’ll see the look
of...oh really u did it all for me...!!?? ...and then a weird look of
why??...and at once I knew how stupid I would feel. Maybe I won’t tell her
...I won’t actually...and would just see her with a straight face...as if it
doesn’t really matter...and that I was just passing...just like that...so
believable!! ;) Would she find out the age old stale excuse that was on offer
and find out...what if she did? what if she didn’t?...chances were...that she
will not even care...and me...oh..I don’t care too....
I stood at the bridge looking at the river, with the noise in the background
just about at a normal level of peace...the buzz, the horns...all seemed part
of the peace that I was looking for. The setting seemed as if it had
happened before, as if I had stood here long back , not once but so many
times, maybe in a dream or some parts in some dreams. I could not
recollect me at this place standing like this ever...it felt surreal...but there
was a connect...a feeling of oneness and solidarity with the passing
things...views...the river...what was going on? A lot actually and I
wondered if this happens to others or only to blessed ones like me, who
are stranded at different parts of the world standing near rivers doing
nothing but to see the traffic and the river going by, don’t know. I was a bit
down for many things...work...over expectant bosses...artificial
people...their behaviours....Rina...a possible transfer...longing to go
home...small small things ma would tell me about day to day home
affairs... Cheer up dude!! Get a date!!
I decided to call her and ask her out. It sounded simple and
straightforward. We had met outside before , though in company of
common friends and saw it quite ok to ask if she was free for a coffee. Now
these are things that I really feel..however passé..will remain. Tink tonk
tink...that caller tune...pick up after this line...
Present Continuous
27
28. hello Srijoy...
hi Rina...what`s up? Reached home? Doing something?
..yes...reached..nothing much...why?
Meet for a coffee?
Ummm...ok..where? Can’t go out for long.
Take a pick...your choice...the CCD near your place at 7?
Ok...see u!!
I shut my phone and did a goal scorer-wicket taker action. I felt nice.
I smiled. I dreamt. I tripped.
Rina had never ever passed on any hint that there was more...she was
good to me alright...but maybe I had taken more out of it. I was at the
juncture of being almost thrown off from the job...they needed
results...not a person who just rants and tries to look smart...but
works smart...I could go off to another city....but she is not the one
holding all my thoughts...rather...I’ve a lot to ponder on... I think I
need to buck up a little. For now, the coffee better make me talk, for
good.
The river was ,not being dramatic, in a way telling me to drop my
inhibitions about what I was and what would people perceive me
as...as if saying ..chill ...be your own, does it know what it is to be on
your own? Maybe yes, or maybe no...I so engrossed in the flow that I
wished as if it was someone I could talk to and maybe share
something...it was kind of a rare soothing moment , rare indeed, the
blowing wind , the dusty rails, the hawkers, their noise, their lives
and I was suddenly a part of all this....my distant stare into oblivion
and the feeling that there are greater messages around. It’s just when
and how we find them, or they find us. I just knew something was
taking shape...and I had to listen to myself to take it forward.
Present Continuous
28
44. That night was washed in heavy rain.
I came out of my concrete wall,
where I remain stuck all the time.
That is the job of a Nail, don’t you know that?
I am here for many years, forgot the count.
Stuck here in my work cycle,
as you are stuck in your life,
Morning, office, evening, night, morning again.
Once in a while I take leave.
Go for a flight through the night.
It is difficult to feel the pain of a Nail.
These flights through the rain soaked sky
Gives me immense relief.
I have seen prostitutes haggling on rates,
Her small child resting on a car-bonnet,
Under the half-gaze of the pimp,
May be the possible father.
Pimp father is busy lining up the next client.
Saw a body lying on the road-side
Many commenting on its level of inebriation.
But I found that the poor chap has kissed the
dusty road, last good-bye. Long back.
It is funny, this Iron Nail has a soft heart.
The Nail
Sugata Sanyal
44
45. Oh, I forgot, I am a member of the family,
I am the Nail on the wall in Tiku’s room.
I have seen Tiku’s family fighting useless fight.
But Mumbai and its relentless time machine,
It keeps ticking.
Today is running after tomorrow, always,
else the meaningless marathon will be lost.
If I get lost in my flight,
If I get removed from the wall,
I will forever loose my loving vigil on Tiku,
I will not be able to see his sleepy half smile.
Please tell him then, I loved him, very much.
Allow me to get on with my flight.
It is still raining heavily.
45
51. For baked omelette
Ingredients: eggs, onion, chili, salt, oil
1. In a bowl break eggs and mix salt to taste, onion, chili. Mix well.
2. In a cupcake tray, grease the cups, pour in the egg mix half filled in each cup.
3. Pre-heat oven at 180 deg. Place the cupcake tray and bake for about 15 mins.
4. Once done, cool it down a little to be able to get the cup omelets out.
Variation -
1. Grease the cups, break eggs in the cup so that the yolk stays intact. sprinkle
little salt on top and bake for 15 mins.
For gravy
Ingredients: Onion, Tomato, Chili, Turmeric, Jeera powder, Dhaniya powder,
Coconut milk or coconut milk powder - 1 teaspoon, ginger, garlic, Garam masala
1. Fry chopped onion in oil
2. Add chopped tomato. Saute. Once done, add ginger paste and very little garlic.
Fry well
3. Add turmeric, chili powder, jeera powder, dhaniya powder. Mix well and saute
till oil separates.
4. Add coconut milk and mix
5. Add garam masala and mix
6. Add the eggs, and add water just to that all the eggs can be covered in the
masala mix
7. Cover and simmer for about 7-10 mins
8. Boil till desired gravy consistency is reached.
Serve hot.
51Photo: Arundhati
53. Ingredients.
Chicken cut into pcs 500 gms
Garlic and ginger paste 2tbsp,
Onion paste 2tbsp,
Red and green chilli paste 1 tbsp
1 onion chopped, fried & make a paste with curd
1 onion chopped,
Coriander powder 2tbsp,
Turmeric powder 2tbsp,
Half cup curd,
Whole spices for tadka -Jjavitri, Cardamon, Cinnamon, Elaichi, Shah
jeera,
Hard boiled eggs
Process
1.Marinate chicken for one hour with coriander powder, turmeric
powder, ginger, garlic and onion paste, curd, red and green chilli paste,
salt.
2.Heat pan and fry all whole spices till u get the aroma.
3.Add chopped onion and fry till brown.
4.Then add the marinated chicken and mix well.
5.After the water from chicken dries add the fried onion paste mixed
with curd.
6.Cover it and let it cook till the chicken softens.
Garnish with cream and eggs and enjoy with roti or rice...
53Photo: Ankita