What's cooking?

Hmmm... Green Dal, and Jeera Chawal.

See, wasn't that so easy to answer?

The question I hate the most, rather the one for which I never have an answer is "What's up?". Nine times out of ten, (in my head) I want to say "Sky". Once in ten times I blurt out a "he he, nothing much", and grin like an idiot would.

Americans are supposed to be friendly people. Well, they are. Friendly, sweet, sugary, syrupy... icky. Seriously. It gets to me at times. What with the girl at the mall or the guy at the cafe or the chappie at the fudgery going "Hey, what's up? How's it going?" and putting a stop to my "hmmm"s and "eh?"s with a "Have a good one you guys."

And let me warn you, it's not just a "Hey" or a "how's it going?". It's a "Heeyyyiiieee" and a "hooow's it goooing?". The singing puts me off even more.

You know why I get miffed by all this "Nice-ness" or "Nice-ity", it's because it's all fake. They don't really care. Why would someone say "Have a nice day" while we cross paths on the pedestrian crossing? Do I know that someone? No. Will I ever meet that someone again or remember his/her face? No. Is he/she a neighbour willing to become a friend? No. Arbit, unwanted niceness I tell you.

I'd rather have meaningful conversations through G-talk or over the phone that begin with "B%^*h" or "Oye, Dharti pe bhoj, kya haal hai", or a simple "Poo". These conversations I have with people I know. They are with my enemies, relatives or worse, with friends. These are people who I would spend time and money on. Most of these people spend atleast (and thankfully) time on me. Some spend more, and some, a whole lot more.

And when they ask questions, I have answers. However unrelated they might seem to someone not in the know.
Q: "Paris Paris Paris?"
A: "No, only H and L came and went"
Q:"490 done?"
A:"Ille, I cooked and cleaned"

:P

Today the courier guy came with my Chocolate and Larouse (yeah yeaah yaayieee!!!) and said "Are you Di... Diii...ummm Diiii Why ah Shee ttall". You can be rest assured I made a face, snatched the parcel and slammed the door at his face.

Randomly...

1.
All my bags is packey, I is ready to go,
I is stand here outside your door,
I hates to wake you ups to say goodbye.

Wonder why this song has been ringing in my head for the last couple of days. The exact same way, with all the incorrect lyrics. I could blame some arbit random idiot who, I'm pretty sure, sings this way.

2.
Ahhh, sleep... that's something I could use a lot of now. But the pattern works best. If I don't sleep for a couple of days, the third day I sleep like a baby. Although, when I wake up, I do look like D.Jo used to, scary (a nice, sweet, endearing scary mind you).

3.
Need to talk to friend and get him to come to Seattle. He does have chances of coming with the new job. Fabulous source of entertainment.

4.
Diwali is in another 2 weeks. How can one think of Diwali and not miss family, special food, specials on TV and fireworks?

5.
"Hmpf" means "I'm not talking for three days".

6.
One down, three be prepared. Two can take a hike/sandwich,

7.
It rains here so often. So bloody often. Wish M was here and we could go eat Cheeeesy garlic bread and call the waiters at cafes "Uncles", and have them blush.

8.
As a diligent friend, I need to go look for hunks who could be suitable "boys". I don't complain about this chore though. Also need to look for Jessica Alba look alikes, now that is not very interesting to me, unless I get paid for it. Big Money.

9.
I want Petha.

10.
I wish I had shiny ink pen.

I used to...

1. Have no time, now I have all the time in the world
2. Have friends, now I need to make more
3. Stay away from books, now I read three of them in two days
4. Have a diary, now I have a punching bag
5. Have a blank passport, now I have stamps on them

They say count your blessings. I've made a list of five. I just don't know WHAT I'm counting.

No title

That's right. This post has no reason to be here. There's no topic, no funny anecdote, no boring stories, no serious issue debated upon...

Pretty much what is running in my head right now. Nothing. Just a blahness (that tends strongly towards a "Blaarrrggghhh"), a strong disinterest towards everything I see. The only sound I make during the entire day is an "Ehhh".

I don't need help, nor any suggestion (although, a suggestion for a good hand moisturising dishwashing leeequid is welcome).

Bah!

The humble chikki

If I remember right, my college in Bangalore sold them at 50p a piece. We bought them by the dozens. Reluctantly shared them with friends. Reluctantly so, because sometimes it served as our lunch, or breakfast, or just time killers during those painful classes. Of course we ensured the "kishishk" noise from the wrapper was heard loud and clear.

This was about 5 years ago. When I was working in Bangalore, I had forgotten about the chikkis. The 50p ones I mean. I had chikkis that were either homemade or store bought.

The store bought ones weren't quite the same anymore. They were darker, thicker, and heavier and didn't have the light crunch that the old chikkis had. Also the new ones came in the form of fat, long bars that we had to fight with to break into a small piece. Didn't have the convenience of small, bite size individual packets the old ones came in.

The ones that were made at home didn't even have the same form. They were made into small balls. Although tasty, it wasn't the same thing. You know what I mean.

Ahmedabad. Thank God for all the Paan stores there. The original chikkis were there again, although they were now priced at one rupee a piece. Sitting pretty on the shelves sometimes next to India Kings, and sometimes next to Benson & Hedges. But they were there. After a point in time, our beloved Chhota stocked it too. Bad food at the mess? Chikki came to the rescue. Well so did Cheese Maggi, and "Veg Noodles kum vegetables and extra garlic sauce".

Okay, so the lunch/dinner at the mess WAS good, and you've had your fill. But in an hour or so wouldn't you crave for something? Something that's not heavy, not fried, not aerated, not maida, not hot, not cold and more importantly, not expensive (double of what it was 5 years ago, but still)? Chikki came to the rescue. It didn't matter if the wrapper sometimes got stuck to the chikki, and you would have to spit it out tactfully. It didn't matter that the crushed bits would fall and what would remain is half of what you paid for. It didn't matter that while you were still enjoying it, an ass (of the first/second/third order) would snatch and finish the rest of it. Whatever part of it you had, would satisfy that craving.

And then, much later, D and I had THE chikki. This was different in form, taste, everything. We enjoyed it nevertheless. Here we bought each of them individually, and willingly shared them. With P, I scaled new heights. We bought them by the boxes and finished them over a period of time. Especially during winters. These chikkis were of course rolled.

This is my first post from Seattle. I could use some chikki here. Any form, size, or shape would do. Cinnamon flavoured would do too ;)