What a wonderful world!

Lately, it seems every book I read, every movie I watch or any program I listen to is talking about the restlessness of the mind, the need to know what happens next, what happens when we die? How do you make your time on this Earth worthwhile? Maybe it was here all along but I have just started to notice. Another thing I have noticed is as I get older, things seem more and more impermanent, momentary. The fact that our time in this world is finite seems irrefutable and obvious. When we are young, it is all about opportunities, new experiences and to-do lists. Everything seems possible. All you have to do is work really hard. It feels like there is an entire lifetime ahead to achieve the goals and have fun. As you get older, you start crossing off those goals on your list. You get yourself a good education which hopefully lands you a good job. If you are lucky, you may even like your job. Find the right partner, get married and settle down for the long haul. Life chugs along just fine and then the kids arrive. That changes the pace of things. It sounds clichéd, but your priorities get overhauled , without you even noticing it. During those years of child rearing, life just paces itself out so fast that you do not realize how you have changed as a person. The responsibilities that you bear in raising these individuals bring into perspective your role in your own life. That is when the thoughts about the trajectory of your life and where it is headed raise their heads. Now a days, faced with the violence and bitterness in the society, the only response that makes sense is to simplify. To live in the moment, to enjoy each day for what it brings, to smile at babies and shake hands with strangers, to give the other person the benefit of doubt and not assume that the world is out to get you. These seem phrases copied from Hallmark cards but when put into context they make sense. We need to use the highly developed brain that evolution has endowed us with to further our species instead of destroying it.

Sure, it is easy to introspect when you are leading a comfortable, healthy and happy life. When you have to worry about where the next meal will come from, how you will keep your baby dry when the roof leaks or where you will hide when the barbarians are banging on your door, these questions seem irrelevant. That is why it is important now more than ever that the people who are content and have happiness to spare, share it with those in dire need. Religion has tried to do this but in my opinion organized religion has failed humankind terribly. The brilliant writer and historian Tony Judt put it succinctly and beautifully when asked about his thoughts on religion and after life. He said :

"I don't believe in a single or multiple godhead. I respect people who do, but I don't believe it myself. But there's a big 'but' which enters in here. I am much more conscious than I ever was — for obvious reasons — on what it will mean to people left behind once I'm dead. It won't mean anything for me. But it will mean a lot to them. It's important to them — by which I mean my children or my wife or my very close friends — that some spirit of me is in a positive way present in their lives, in their heads, in their imaginations and so on. So [in] one curious way I've come to believe in the afterlife — as a place where I still have moral responsibilities, just as I do in this life — except that I can only exercise them before I get there. Once I get there, it will be too late. So, no God. No organized religion. But a developing sense that there's something bigger than the world we live in, including after we die, and we have responsibilities in that world."

So, if we all stopped worrying about the afterlife and paid attention to living this life to the fullest, then we will mean it when we sing …what a wonderful world!

A Mother's Manifesto

My dear children

I am scared. I am scared of the world around us today. It seems everyday we wake up to another natural disaster, another war or another tragedy ruining the lives of millions of people around the Earth. We are running out of natural resources, we are running out of money, we are polluting the Earth, we are in the process of wiping out many species from the face of this earth. It seems people are getting sadder and lonelier with each passing year. I am scared of the state we are leaving the Earth in, for you. With all the technological achievements, we still cannot stop people from dying of a mosquito bite! The gap between the have's and have-nots is ever expanding throughout the globe. Everything just seems to be spinning out of control!! However, there is something I have control over - our lives together. When you were born, I was overwhelmed to think that I was going to be responsible for raising you to be an individual all in your own right, someone who can function normally and productivley in a society and lead a happy life. Over the years, I have learned that this is a partnership. I have taken cues from you and changed my opinions about doing things a certain way. We have started this wonderfuljourney together and its time we put down a manuscript for this adventure. Here are the things that I, as a mother, promise to do for you :

- You will always have unconditional and unending love from me.

-I will not expect anything but excellence from you in everything you do, so that you may never expect mediocrity from yourselves.

- I will never assume that you cannot do something until you have tried it and put in your very best.

-I will not limit you to my own knowledge. I will share all that I have and then search far and wide to get you more and as you get older, teach you how to find your own information.

-I may be busy but never too busy to hear you. In our conversations, I will pay complete attention to you so that you know what you are saying is important. I will also teach you how important it is to listen while the other person is talking.

-I will love you father with all my heart and be true in my relationships so you can experience the pleasure of family.

-I will explore with you everything this world has to offer in all of the areas of the arts so that you can start your own journeys.

-I will make sure you sample every cuisine in this world before you are 18, so that you will have a well-developed palate by the time you are ready to go out into the world on your own.

- I will let you experience the bliss of reading a book in a quiet house on a school-day afternoon

-I will take you on trips around the world and into the next-door woods, so you can experience the majesty of nature in all of its forms.

-I will share with you the joy of sports-playing, watching, the thrill of the win and disappointment of the loss.

-I will discipline you even if it makes me cry inside - I will have to be the parent then, not a friend.

-I will try very hard to not pass on my bias and judgmental feelings about issues to you but let you make up your own minds.

-I will never be judgmental when it comes to you.

-I will make sure you know where you come from-your family history, the struggles and triumphs of your family members so you have a sense of pride in your roots even if you are far removed from them.

-I will remind you, everyday, how special you are and that the pursuit and enjoyment of happiness is entirely in your hands.

All this will not be easy. All this is probably going to take a long time. But as I often experienced when I lie down on the bed and think about my day, the moments that bring me the greatest peace and happiness are the ones spent with you. And that makes it all worth the while.

A breath of cold, fresh air.

I am an easy mark when it comes to interesting book titles. I am very likely to pick up books at random, if they have catchy titles. Even if I may not judge a book by its cover, I certainly give a lot of points for the title. It is very difficult to give a title to your work that embodies the spirit of what you have written and conveys its intensity. So when I heard about The Mighty Queens of Freeville by Amy Dickinson, it certainly topped my to-read list. It took me a few years to get to it, but it reaffirmed my hypothesis of judging books! It is the most beautiful collection of essays collected in the form of a memoir. Though not strictly chronological in its narrative, it draws on a time line that is easy to follow. It is a fine line that an author has to walk when writing about one's own life. The "story" has to be interesting enough to hold the reader's attention while the subject has to be examined in detail with objectivity. In this book, Ms.Dickinson chronicles her journey from and back to her hometown, physically and figuratively in a manner that is unassuming and honest. The parts dealing with her divorce and early struggles in establishing herself while raising her daughter are candidly funny yet poignant. The narrative feels like you are sitting across the table from your friend, chatting over a (few) cup(s) of coffee. Her experiences of parenting, "dorkitude", living with aging family members and pets while making a life on her own come across as life lessons without being pretentious. The central theme of resilience and strength that comes from family ties almost feels like fiction. The descriptions of life in a small town in New York are so appealing that it makes you want to map it out and drive down for the weekend. I can't wait to read what Amy Dickinson writes next. Two-thumbs up!

Follow that scent..

It is a well-researched subject - the connection between smell and memory. It is believed that the olfactory bulb is a part of the brain's limbic system, which is closely associated with memories and that is the reason why smells are associated with certain memories. I have been credited with having a keen sense of smell, almost akin to that of a dog-which if I was not such a die hard dog lover, would have been insulting. But it is true, I am very sensitive to smell. I do not mean that even slightly strong odours upset me. On the contrary, I have quite a high tolerance for noxious odors. I am senstive to the good kind of smells. You know how the advertisements claim the sweet scent of the soaps can tranport you to a tropical paradise or the lavender oil can instantly calm your stresses - well, it sure works on me! And the most memorable smells of all are that of food. I remember telling my mother after coming home from school one day that I could smell tandoori chicken while I was in the class! Today there are some memories so strongly intertwined with smells that even though I am far away from the places where these events/memories happened, for that instant i get a surge of familiarity rushing through my senses that takes me to a very special place.

My favorite food smell is that of frreshly made rotis - unleavened Indian bread, being puffed over the open flame. That for me is the smell of my mother's kitchen. Throughout my growing up years, when I finally got interested in the kitchen (much to my mothers relief) the thing that amazed me the most was how my mother would make perfectly round, evenly puffed rotis, day in and day out, as if traced with the back of a bowl or made in a mould. It took me years to perfect this craft and even though most of the times my rotis do turn out round and evenly puffed, they still cannot rival my mother's. The earthy scent of wheat getting roasted over open fire is as close to nature as you can get, sitting in your dining room.

Another very strong scent that floods the oxytocin receptors in my brain is that of warm ghee - clarified butter. If you think the smell of butter is irresistable, wait till you get a waft of this heavenly perfume, when ghee is pured over anything hot - usually steaming rice or when put in a hot pot to be used for cooking, like my ajji (grandmother) used to do. She didnot let the minor fact that ghee is 100% fat, free of all annoying milk solids, ever get in the way of her cooking. Ghee was (and still is) a mandatory addition to most of her dishes. But the one dish which I absolutely devour and one that cannot be replicated is her Kadhi - a hot soup usually used as an accompaniment to the main course; made up of yogurt and gram flour, flavoured with green chillies, ginger, cilantro and tempered with hot ghee, cumin seeds and curry leaves. The smell of cumin seeds sputtering away in hot ghee is the stuff of my childhood dreams!!

A scent I was introduced to after coming to America was that of vanilla...ummm..just the mention of the name brings to my mind visions of perfectly kept, beautiful houses or quaint boutiques with candles and glasswares in tiny town of the West. Yes, even though this is a food fragrance, my immediate memory associated with vanilla is our first attempt at house hunting in California and innumerable visits to the model houses. Since then I have lived in a number of houses and have never ever achieved that level of vanilla-scentedness, no matter how many candles or chemicals I have burned.

The memories are innumerable. The whiff of teriyaki chicken being grilled outdoors on cold, fall saturday mornings in the Strip district of Pittsburgh, the magical essence of lavender oils floating through the streets of Ojai, CA or the pure unadulterated fishy ocean smell of the Hawaiian coast - every memorable experience has a smell to it. I realized I was helping my son form his own memories when, on sniffing a handful of fresh basil leaves, he remarked, "Oh this is the smell of the pasta from yesterday!!"

Kadhi

1/4 cup Low-fat Greek yogurt

2 tbsp gram flour (besan)

1 cup water

2 tsp ghee or butter

1 tsp cumin seeds

1/2 tsp turmeric

1 tsp salt

1 tsp grated ginger

1/2 serrano/jalapeno chilly seeded and chopped

5-6 curry leaves torn

handful of chopped fresh cilantro

In a bowl, whisk together yogurt, water ginger, turmeric and salt. To it, add the gram flour slowly and mix it well. Whisk it well and break up any lumps that may form. Add the chillies (if using). In a thick-bottomed sauce pan, heat the ghee or butter over low heat. Add the cumin seeds when the butter melts. When the seeds start to crackle, add the curry leaves. To this add the yogurt mixture, making sure that the heat is turned down to low to medium low. Stir the mixture and let it come to a slow boil. Do not let the mixture thicken. You will need to add more water, upto 1 cup to keep the consistency of the soup. Cook over low heat for 1-2 minutes. Add the cilantro leaves and serve hot as soup or as a side dish with steaming white rice.

Gram flour or besan is found very commonly in Indian grocery stores. It is light yellow in colour and smells of chick peas.

In conversation with…….

I have been accused to talking too much-with my children! It has been said that both of them (ages 6 and 3) talk so much and are so precocious because I talk to them about things they have no business knowing about. Point taken. Please allow me to present my case.

I agree that I talk a lot with my kids (I talk a lot, in general) and that to an untrained, illiterate eye, they might seem precocious . But I believe that my children are developing at a rate and extent faster and deeper than their peers because of their exposure to things that children of their age usually do not even know about.

Case in point: My 6 year old son and I were talking about the Civil War and then the Civil rights movements in the context of a project for the Black History month in his school. When we were talking about segregation, he asked “So what was the problem Indians had in those days, Mom? ( he meant Indians as in from India). I told him that the problem Indians had at that time in history was that they were ruled by the British and there was a war of independence going on. Then we discussed the colonization of the various princely states that made up India by the British rulers and how the in-fighting among the various kings made it easy for the British to “divide and rule”. After a while, I could see that his attention was wandering and that it was getting to be too much information for him and we ended the conversation. Later that day him and his sister were having an argument over the Pokemon cards and he says to her , “ You are invading my territory. You just want more and more and that is why you are fighting with me!” So, the conversation was not wasted after all!

One question that bothers parents is that in the trouble-prone pre-adolescent and adolescent years will their children come able to come to them for help if they need? Will there be proper communication between the two that the child will not feel intimidated or embarrassed in opening up or questioning something that may be bothering him? As with every other relationship, communication is the back bone of a successful parent-child partnership. But if you wait for the child to be “mature” enough to handle conversations you are too late. From the time a child is born she is processing information according to the capacity of her developing brain. It is a well established fact that the more you talk to your infant or toddler the quicker and deeper the child’s development is in areas of talking and vocabulary. Using normal language when talking to an infant is better for teaching him language than using “baby” words for “milk” and “blanket” and so on. The same premise should be carried over as the child grows. Conventional wisdom may suggest that certain topics are too complicated for a preschooler or grade school age kid to to comprehend. But whether it is slavery or global warming, evolution of humans or even death, there is a way of explaining the facts in an age-appropriate manner. Kids may not understand everything that is thrown at them but the exposure guarantees a reaction in terms of thinking about the topic which can lead to creative and analytical thinking. And when this kind of exposure happens in their daily life, with parents, the stage is set for a lifelong open channel between the parent and the child which can foster communication forever.

So, as we discuss the merits of having a Raichu Pokemon card versus a Meowth I hope that he won't hesitate about telling me of the day when he was offered a cigarette by his friend or when he got a Valentine from the cutest girl in his class.

November - Week 2

Let me just say, it was the best soup I had ever tasted!!!

Chilly fall night Clam Chowder

Cook time - 30 mins

You will need :

Onion - 1 medium, finely diced

Celery stalks - 2 trimmed and finely sliced

Butter - unsalted, 2 tbsp

All purpose flour - 3 tbsp

Vegetable Stock - 2 cups

Heavy cream - 1 cup

Yukon gold potatoes - 1 lb, peeled and cut into 1/2 inch cubes

Dried bay leaves - 2

Fresh sage leaves - 2

Chopped clams in juice - 4 (6oz) cans, juice separated and then rinsed

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Heat the butter in a thick bottomed, large pot over medium-high heat. Add the onion and celery and saute until softened, stirring often. Do not let it brown. Stir in the flour to distribute evenly. Mix well. Add the stock, clam juice, cream, bay leaves, sage leaves and potatoes and stir to combine. Bring to a simmer, stirring constantly. The mixture will thicken, then reduce the heat to medium-low and cook, partially covered for 20 minutes, stirring often until the potatoes are nice and tender. Add clams and cook just until clams are firm about 3 mins. Then season with salt and pepper. Serve steaming hot in deep soup bowls.

Makes 6 servings.

TIME!!

Watched The Time Traveler’s Wife yesterday and have been t

hinking about it ever since. I have put off watching this movie for a while as I assumed it was a movie adaption of yet another love story with “Oprah book club”-ish sadness and torment and the pain of lost love. I was true to some extent but it was worth the tears.

The movie is a good adaptation of what I can only imagine must be a dark and intense book. Not having read the book itself, I feel like I cannot do justice to it, so I will stick to the movie version here. This is not so much of a review as a reflection on the ideas floated in the movie. Would I call it a science fiction movie? No, it is a love story though and through. A story about love intense yet flawed in a very human way. A story about loss and man’s instinctive need to live. The movie tries to delve into these deep issues but the restrictive nature of the medium itself stops it from doing justice to the theme. Exploring the need to love and live is the central theme of the story. What makes it the consummate romance story is that even though Henry travels back and forth through time, the story is not muddled by the presence of extra characters. It involves only the people and relationships that are central to his life and the story is explained and explored through them. The pivotal scene to me that captures the existential and nostalgic mood of the movie is when an adult Clare post two miscarriages, is visited by a Henry from the past, from the beginning of their relationship . This is right after she has found out that Henry has undergone a vasectomy in order to prevent any more children from being born as they may turn out to be time travelers. It is a very short but well executed scene where the intensity of her love for him, the earlier Henry, before life has taken its course, come shining through. She also acts on her primal need to continue life by having their child by making love to him in the care. It is a reflection of the sentiment everyone feels, yearning for a past when things were better, life was easier and the world was full of possibilities . Throughout the story the feeling of yearning for the past is a constant presence and given the fact that Henry can go through the past, reliving it, though totally out of his control, makes it even more unfair for Clare. The sense of loss – of love, of time, of life – is so intense that it begs the question, would you really want to travel in time, past or future if you knew there was nothing you could do to change it? Would you want to know how you die, when you die and would death then be any less painful for your loved ones? Would going back time and again to a point in the past that was pivotal and excruciatingly painful help you deal with it any better? The one thought that echoed through my mind while watching this movie and after too was to live every moment to the fullest, as if was your last. For you never know and even if you do, there is nothing you can do to change it.

Why do you read?

Why do you read?

I was asked this question once by someone very dear to me. As an instinctive reaction, I was upset but on further thought, I realized that I did not really have an answer to that question.

Reading like painting or sculpting or music is an art form. When you read a sentence, whether you realize it or not, it affects a part of your consciousness. Just as every person you meet leaves some impression on you, you cannot go through a single book without it making you pause and think even if for a tiny fraction of time. It doesn’t have to be a 150 page novel. An essay, a short story - anything that takes a strict course of introduction, body and conclusion has the capacity to draw you into itself, whether with admiration and anticipation or revulsion and disgust. When you read a story you are connecting with its author and in that space it is just the two of you, your imagination processing what the author has implied in the pages of the tome. Unadulterated by the images provided by a third party –like the television or the internet, you are free to roam around in the vast hinterlands of your own mind, processing what your brain is reading. It provides a sacred space, in which you can be yourself completely, without prejudice, without expectations and without being judged.

It is not necessary for reading to have a purpose other than reading itself. Sometimes, if it is a self-help book or something that proffers a solution or understanding of a subject matter, after reading it you may be able to explain something you didn’t know before. That is quite often the case with non-fiction. But fiction – that is a different story altogether - pun intended. What do you get from reading a “story book”? Do you read it to pass time? Glossy magazines help you pass time, at the doctor’s office, at the rental car lounge or at the salon. No, you do not read a fiction book to pass time. You read it to savor it. To go where the characters take you, maybe exploring relationships, maybe investigating past or future incidents, predicting where the story is going next. If this is done with an eloquent yet beautiful language which at once amazes and enthralls you, it is a pleasure like no other. Just as listening to an exquisite piece of music or marveling at a brilliant painting, reading a well written book can exercise your neurons to make them work at their best. It makes you think about the world around you, it may not change who you are in a big way but it will certainly leave an impression in your mind that you will carry for the rest of your life. It is not useful in any other way and as Jonathan Lethem put it, it is this “resistance to usefulness” that is so appealing about reading. You read because you can and because you want to.

One down-three to go!

The November challenge has started! My challenge to me, that is. Happy to report that i did accomplish the first part of the challenge last week. Thanks to Jane and Indrani for their suggestions. I will try those too. My pumpkin dish is a take on my favorite dessert growing up - carrot wadi or squares. The smell of carrots cooking in milk and caramelizing into these orange-brown heavenly bites is still fresh in my memory.
So for the pumpkin challenge, I decided to make:

Spiced pumpkin squares - Pumpkin Wadi

The key to this dish is constant stirring and a close watch to make sure the mixture doesn't burn at the bottom of the pan.

Time to cook : 2hrs

Inactive prep time : 5 mins

Red Pumpkin 1lb shredded (makes 7 cups)\

Unsweetened condensed milk 1 (12oz) can

Whole milk 4 cups

Molasses 1/3 cup

Sugar 1/3 cup

Cardamom powder 1/2 tsp

Cinnamon powder 1/2 tsp

Lots of patience

In a heavy bottomed dutch oven, mix the pumpkin, condensed milk and whole milk and bring to a boil on medium-high heat. Once the mixture reaches boi

ling stage, reduce the heat down to medium and continue stirring.

In 30 mins, the mixture will be reduced to about 2 inches less.At this stage add the molasses and sugar. Mix well and continue heating. Around 1 and 1/2 hours into the cooking, the mixture starts to look semi-solid. Here, the stirring becomes even more important as this can burn very easily.

Around 2 hours into the cooking, the remaining milk mixture

starts to bubble over to the surface. Add the cardamom and cinnamom and cook another 15 mins. Now the mixture is ready to be taken off the heat.

Prep a steel plate or pie pan by rubbing with butter and spoon the warm mixture in. Spread it into a 1 inch thick layer. Cover and let cool completely before cutting into squares.

I must confess that it did not come out exactly as I wanted it to and I think there are two reasons for that.

1. It needed more sugar

2. It should have cooked another 30 mins at least.

It didnot solidify enough to give me firm squares or pieces. I give it 8 out of 10! It tastes like pumpkin and the spices were very fragrant and just enough. So thats it! My frist challenge recipe. Till next week, so long....

New month, new goals.

I was going through the settings for this blog and realized that I had almost a quarter of posts that were still "drafts". Unformed paragraphs, unfinished sentences, waiting for that finishing touch that will make them "official posts". I think that is reflective of my state of mind in general. There are so many thoughts that start in my mind, so many things I want to write about, but I find reasons (maybe excuses) for never bringing them to fruition. For the umpteenth time, I have made a resolution to myself. This time I have a good feeling about my goals. So here's the plan..for the month of November, i am going to pick 4 ingredients that i have never cooked with and try out one recipe with that ingredient every week. also, i will pick one technique or style of cooking and try one recipe with it for the month. I will chronicle my efforts on the blog, within 24 hours.

Week 1 - pumpkin or any kind of orange squash.

For November

Week 2 - clams as in Clam chowder

Week 3- Collard greens

Week 4 - bread pudding (yes its not an ingredient, but it's my thanksgiving dessert, preferably with rum or bourbon sauce.

The technique i will try out this month is brining. I will try to do that for the thanksgiving day meal maybe with cornish hens/broiler hens as we all hate turkey!

So there you have it. my goals for the new month as far as food is concerned. there are a lot of other things going on in different aspects of daily living which if interesting enough will find their way to the blog. for example, when her father or I get angry at A, she starts to cry saying "You make me upset....I love you, you make me upset"!!!!

So till the next post, here's wishing me luck!!

The beginning.

And that day is here. Bright morning sunshine streaks through the blinds, nudging you awake. In that sweet subconscious spot where you are neither asleep nor awake, you are jolted to full awareness by the the thought that today is the big day.You get up and wake up the rest of the sleepy heads. Looking at the tousled hairs and dreamy eyes and you cannot believe how fast time has flown! The house address and phone numbers have been memorized and repeated, the bag is packed, the excitement of the last few days has been replaced by a slight trepidation. You get everybody in the car, yelling instructions at every step, trying to appear calm though you are past hyperventilating inside. Then you reach the destination. You turn back in your seat and see a nervous smile on his face, the look that says "I'm confused. Should I be happy or anxious?" You walk to that door, beyond which you are not allowed, beyond which a whole new world beckons him, a world where you will not be able to hold his hand, or give him a hug to comfort your own fears or go over all instructions twice to make sure he remembers.

No, all you can do is let go. And watch as he joins the sea of other anxiously smiling faces.

...ah!yes, school has started.

A Treatise on Tenacity

So, today is the big day. Days and months of planning, of separation, of anxiety and pain come to a crowning end. And today, the only thing I can think of is tenacity.

I am sure it is written in self help books under the title of how to succeed in life, but to me the most important requisite to success is tenacity. Here is a man who has achieved what he wanted. He may not always have known exactly what it was that he was after, but he knew he had to make it big. It was not for him to lead a normal, comfortable, good life. He wanted the best in life. And he had the determination to stay the course in spite of the setbacks that he faced.By the force of sheer ambition and tenacity and sharp intellect, he set himself up to where he is graduating from Harvard, today. When I started out on this journey with him, many moons ago, I knew he was going to make it big. I don not think either one of us realised what that was going to be. But by keeping his eye on the goal, he has achieved it. Today marks the end of a long and arduous path, one that took him from his home in central India to this bastion of education, far away from home. It also marks the beginning of a new journey, one that is sure to take him to the heights of success he yearns for and deserves.

This reads like a motivational speech, but it is absolutely true

This man is my husband, Partha and I congratulate him on this awesome achievement.

I don't like Sunday evenings.

I don't like Sunday evenings. It is that time of the day when, after a good nap you wake up to find out that you have lost an hour (or two) of the last day of your weekend. Then, you walk around moping and realize that there are still chores that need to be done before Monday morning. You head out to the grocery store and the gloom seems to have spread outside, too. The strip mall is deserted, all the store fronts are shuttered, Closed" signs hang limply on the doors. The curio shops are still and dark. The restaurants seem to be abuzz with activity but that too is subdued as if those out for an early supper are feeling guilty about enjoying this last part of the holiday, this last stretch of calm before the storm of the week takes over.
Then, you come back home and get busy with winding down. You are not tired enough but feel like you have to sleep early, lest your Monday morning turn into a mad rush. So you forget about your earlier misgivings and retire, ending another day, hopefully with a kiss and a smile.

Heavenly Hawaii

We are at Maui, in Kihue to be precise. The lobster is done and the rice is cooking in the microwave. Akka just fell asleep and eeshan is ready to eat. went in for a while in to the gorgeous water and have had a vodka and coke and finished a glass of red wine. The fingers are dancing the salsa all over the keyboard and it is registering very slightly in my cortical centers. there is the gorgeous din of massive waves dashing on the shore right outside my back door mixed with the really discordant din of a stupid cartoon that eesh is watching. i am feeling the beautiful effects of the alcohol and had the awesome idea of this post...so here goes.....

The anatomy of the perfect buzz....

It is said that one of the effects alcohol has on your brain is that it inhibits the inhibitory neurotransmitter acetylcholine which in fact makes you a maverick, someone who doesn't care about dotting the i's and crossing the t's or doing the right things at the right moment. Well, right now i am at that precise moment and thought it would be a wonderful opportunity to jot down this feeling when i am there but not quite...when i am....

buzzed enough to feel the pins and needles creeping up my calves but conscious enough that i can load the whole dishwasher and turn it on,

buzzed enough to not give a damn about dipping the lobster tail (a million calories) into clarified butter (a zillion calories) but conscious enough to write about it

buzzed enough to enjoy the solitude of the afternoon, but conscious enough to realize that my most precious creation is sleeping soundly in the bedroom and that is why i am indoors instead of toasting in the gorgeous sun, like my son and my honey.

buzzed enough to enjoy the warm sensation that is passing through my throat and chest as i sip my red wine but conscious enough to realize that this glass is going to take me over the edge

buzzed enough to want to put down a lot of other things in this post but conscious enough to delete them all.....

Hell,maybe am not buzzed at all. what is the point of getting drunk if you are your most sensible and rational self, your most honest alter ego, when you are drunk. i thought the whole point of being under the influence was the you are under the influence of something other than your own thoughts, your own fears, your own monsters. there is no bigger downer than the knowledge that you are thinking so clearly that you have figured our what you want to do in your life in this haze that is surrounding your rational thought. Things that you only imagined yourself doing when you were "sober" suddenly feel like the most natural things that you were supposed to do. Is that why all artists at one point or the other are said to have made their best creations when they were not "sober"? No, i am not advocating the abdication of responsibility and getting high all your life just so that you can realize what your true potential is...you know what that makes you...a COWARD! someone who cannot do what they really want to do unless they lose control of the world around them.,..nah!!! not for me....i am just enjoying my vacation and this awesome state of not being there when i am really there.......(in fact writing all this has had an incredibly potent cleansing effect on my brain that i think i will need another glass of the really nice Cabernet to take me to my new post)...until then.....cheerio!!!!!