Dear Friends,
My mother has always been very fond of curds. She likes it thick and a bit sour. We set it everyday. It’s a must for us as we cannot do without curds in our daily meals - both for lunch as well as for dinner.
It is a ritual to boil milk well. Pour into another pot or container and allow it to cool until it’s a bit warm to touch.
Then we add a few drops of curds in it.
We never use the same milk pan to set the curds in as the containers for milk and curds are dedicated and never allowed to intermingle.
This is done due to the fact that milk could spoil upon boiling if a container in which curd was set previously was not washed or cleaned properly.
A small content of curd sticking somewhere in the pan can spoil the fresh milk when it comes to boil.
In our childhood days, my mom used to pour out warm milk in smaller cups - 6 cups in all - for the entire family. Then she would add a drop or two of curds in each cup and allow it to stand until the milk could turn into curds in a few hours. Then she would hand out a cup each at meal times. It would be so much fun.
Today we had curds in individual, newly bought, colored melamine cups. My mom was so happy seeing them and recalled how we all as kids used to enjoy curds in cups.
This was like tapping a memory from the past.
Curds set in earthen cups are very tasty with a certain richness to it. I think that is primarily because the water in the milk to an extent, gets absorbed by the earthen cup naturally. That leaves only the thick milk to get set into curds. The layer of cream forms a tasty and creamy cover for the curd underneath. It is yummy to taste. In north India this is still followed in many places like Delhi, Mathura, Agra and parts of Hyderabad also. These earthen cups with curds are supplied in running trains and hotels have picked it up. Makes eco sense too to go green this way. Not to mention helping the potter make a livelihood out of making earthen ware.
3 cheers for curds in earthen ware!
Mahalakshmi
Showing posts with label childhood memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label childhood memories. Show all posts
Monday, June 14, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Tomato Jam
Dear Readers,
I made tomato jam yesterday. A vegetable market just across our apartments put up a board 'buy one kg and get one kg free!' for Rs.6/- which I thought was a steal.
Psst... today its Rs.8/-! up by Rs.2/-.
Well, i washed a kg of tomatoes and processed it just as my mom would do when we were very young. She would add a dash of lime juice which added flavor to it. It came out very well. I made soft rotis and we had them with tomato jam today.
I will share the recipe with you.
Wash 500gms of ripe sour tomatoes.
Boil, de-skin and make a pulp. The ratio of sugar I used this time was 1.25 times sugar to 1 measure of pulp. I just tried another method this time for preparing too. Just mixed both the pulp and sugar and set it up on low flame over the stove. Kept stirring until sugar dissolved completely. when I could see the mixture reducing to 3/4ths of the original quantity I added 3 tablespoons of lime juice and 1/2 tsp of salt to balance the sweetness. It was gooey and very tasty. When it was poured into a glass jar to set, it looked so attractive with seeds everywhere like a red polka dot dress. It sits pretty over my dining table and will be over very soon. Then I washed the ladle and the pan with some water to make tomato juice. That was tasty too. :D
We remember food, events, etc. associated with childhood, when we are past 50 years. Perhaps that is the time when our kids are on their own and we have time to look back upon our own lives as a flashback. We remember our childhood friends and cousins with whom we might have spent our innocent days. Each one of us must have come a long way from how we led our lives half a century back!
Sweet and sour are our memories of the days gone by just like the sweet-sour lime pickle without which my last course of any meal - curd rice - is not complete. More on this later.
Catch you tomorrow, god willing :D
Cheers!
Mahalakshmi
I made tomato jam yesterday. A vegetable market just across our apartments put up a board 'buy one kg and get one kg free!' for Rs.6/- which I thought was a steal.
Psst... today its Rs.8/-! up by Rs.2/-.
Well, i washed a kg of tomatoes and processed it just as my mom would do when we were very young. She would add a dash of lime juice which added flavor to it. It came out very well. I made soft rotis and we had them with tomato jam today.
I will share the recipe with you.
Wash 500gms of ripe sour tomatoes.
Boil, de-skin and make a pulp. The ratio of sugar I used this time was 1.25 times sugar to 1 measure of pulp. I just tried another method this time for preparing too. Just mixed both the pulp and sugar and set it up on low flame over the stove. Kept stirring until sugar dissolved completely. when I could see the mixture reducing to 3/4ths of the original quantity I added 3 tablespoons of lime juice and 1/2 tsp of salt to balance the sweetness. It was gooey and very tasty. When it was poured into a glass jar to set, it looked so attractive with seeds everywhere like a red polka dot dress. It sits pretty over my dining table and will be over very soon. Then I washed the ladle and the pan with some water to make tomato juice. That was tasty too. :D
We remember food, events, etc. associated with childhood, when we are past 50 years. Perhaps that is the time when our kids are on their own and we have time to look back upon our own lives as a flashback. We remember our childhood friends and cousins with whom we might have spent our innocent days. Each one of us must have come a long way from how we led our lives half a century back!
Sweet and sour are our memories of the days gone by just like the sweet-sour lime pickle without which my last course of any meal - curd rice - is not complete. More on this later.
Catch you tomorrow, god willing :D
Cheers!
Mahalakshmi
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
The Good Samaritan
Dear Readers,
This an incident which always touches my heart whenever I hear it from my cousin ( I heard it today also for that matter through telecon) or think of it.
My cousin who was a teacher in a school teaching higher classes was trying to better her education by sitting for her Masters in order to get a lecturer’s post in some college. This was the year 1970 in Hyderabad. She had already one Master’s degree but only with a pass in the 3rd division which was not considered enough for the post she was aiming for. So she took up Public Administration as a subject for her Master’s this time and wanted to get a second division with a hope in her heart.
She would appear as a private candidate as she was already working and could not attend regular college. She had to fend for herself and her only daughter at that time, though she had other kind of moral support from a big family on her mother’s side.
With only a crucial 2 days left for the exam paper on public administration and the prescribed book still not anywhere in sight (all the books were borrowed by the regular students of the Osmania University from the Library) her fear was real. She had not had the opportunity to even glance at the book anywhere and with the exam so close by she was feeling very frustrated and jittery about the outcome of this exam on which her future was so very dependent.
As chance would have it, our uncle who was the headmaster of the All Saints’ High School took her along with him to a book exhibition held at the Nizam’s college grounds that day. While going around the book stalls she chanced upon this elusive book and could not take her eyes off it. She kept turning its pages for a long time with no decent sum in her purse with which to buy it off the shelf. My uncle too never carried any simply because they dint have that kind of money in those days. Seeing her interest in the book the Muslim shopkeeper asked her what the matter was. She simply said that her exam was just 2 days away and this was the only book which can help her pass and she could not afford to buy the book as it was priced high at Rs.80/-.
The shopkeeper quietly packed the book in a brown paper sheet and offered it to her saying she can take it, read from it and then return it back to him at the stall after her exams two days later. She was overjoyed and surprised at the turn of events and in turn offered her wrist watch as security against the prized book which he politely declined to accept. It was simply a divine intervention.
She came back home and read a portion in a hurry promising to read it thoroughly the next and the only day left to study. She planned for her young daughter to be sent to our house to play for the day. Told the servant not to come for the day. Cooked a very limited meal and sat down to read the voluminous book. A few hours later, a knock on her door and a couple coming down from Bellary (her late husband’s dear friend and his wife had come to spend the day with the mother and daughter)! Of all days!! But we cannot turn our guests away, who have come from a far off village to meet us, so entertain them she did. She offered them an aloo bhaat (spicy steamed rice with potatoes), chatted with them but deep inside, her mind was on the time that was running out for her!
Then come evening the couple left as the little daughter had not returned even then. The daughter came home for the night, again preparing a meal and washing dishes and what was left was just one night and the next day was the exam day! After putting her daughter to sleep and a bout of crying, she began to read through quickly whatever she could in between nodding off.
The next day at the exam was also tension filled and somehow she wrote her paper that day hoping little to make it in the 2nd division this time around too.
She had very little hopes of passing in the 2nd division and on the day of the results she cried her heart out for she had barely managed to scrape through with a second division in her MA, Public Administration.
Her journey as a lecturer in a government college started off with a better pay packet though she had to travel a long distance by the local train to a college in Dabeerpura on the outskirts of the city of Hyderabad to earn it.
Sbe did return the book to the good samaritan without whose help her dream of moving up in life would have got postponed to yet another year.
At times a power above gives us opportunities and also tests us for strength. We have to make the best of the time we have under the circumstances is the strong message that comes through. We have one life to live and it is 'now' that we can do something positive about it and give ourselves a chance to prove that we are worthy of ourselves.
This is all about a burning desire to achieve something in life.
This is about keeping the effort on to find that elusive something until we get it.
This is about being there at the right place at the right time.
This is about a stranger giving us a helping hand with no conditions attached and in total trust.
This is about those unexpected obstacles which come our way to test us.
This is about making up for lost time at the cost of a sleepless night.
This is about the dawn offering hope of light shining in our lives.
This is about making it against all odds.
This is about God's unseen hands lifting us mortals up with our spirits intact.
This is about divine intervention all the way through.
Since then my cousin has shared this incident with many of her students through the years and so will any who might read this.
Grab that opportunity and make something of your life! Move on.
You have nothing to lose except success!!
Cheers!
Mahalakshmi
This an incident which always touches my heart whenever I hear it from my cousin ( I heard it today also for that matter through telecon) or think of it.
My cousin who was a teacher in a school teaching higher classes was trying to better her education by sitting for her Masters in order to get a lecturer’s post in some college. This was the year 1970 in Hyderabad. She had already one Master’s degree but only with a pass in the 3rd division which was not considered enough for the post she was aiming for. So she took up Public Administration as a subject for her Master’s this time and wanted to get a second division with a hope in her heart.
She would appear as a private candidate as she was already working and could not attend regular college. She had to fend for herself and her only daughter at that time, though she had other kind of moral support from a big family on her mother’s side.
With only a crucial 2 days left for the exam paper on public administration and the prescribed book still not anywhere in sight (all the books were borrowed by the regular students of the Osmania University from the Library) her fear was real. She had not had the opportunity to even glance at the book anywhere and with the exam so close by she was feeling very frustrated and jittery about the outcome of this exam on which her future was so very dependent.
As chance would have it, our uncle who was the headmaster of the All Saints’ High School took her along with him to a book exhibition held at the Nizam’s college grounds that day. While going around the book stalls she chanced upon this elusive book and could not take her eyes off it. She kept turning its pages for a long time with no decent sum in her purse with which to buy it off the shelf. My uncle too never carried any simply because they dint have that kind of money in those days. Seeing her interest in the book the Muslim shopkeeper asked her what the matter was. She simply said that her exam was just 2 days away and this was the only book which can help her pass and she could not afford to buy the book as it was priced high at Rs.80/-.
The shopkeeper quietly packed the book in a brown paper sheet and offered it to her saying she can take it, read from it and then return it back to him at the stall after her exams two days later. She was overjoyed and surprised at the turn of events and in turn offered her wrist watch as security against the prized book which he politely declined to accept. It was simply a divine intervention.
She came back home and read a portion in a hurry promising to read it thoroughly the next and the only day left to study. She planned for her young daughter to be sent to our house to play for the day. Told the servant not to come for the day. Cooked a very limited meal and sat down to read the voluminous book. A few hours later, a knock on her door and a couple coming down from Bellary (her late husband’s dear friend and his wife had come to spend the day with the mother and daughter)! Of all days!! But we cannot turn our guests away, who have come from a far off village to meet us, so entertain them she did. She offered them an aloo bhaat (spicy steamed rice with potatoes), chatted with them but deep inside, her mind was on the time that was running out for her!
Then come evening the couple left as the little daughter had not returned even then. The daughter came home for the night, again preparing a meal and washing dishes and what was left was just one night and the next day was the exam day! After putting her daughter to sleep and a bout of crying, she began to read through quickly whatever she could in between nodding off.
The next day at the exam was also tension filled and somehow she wrote her paper that day hoping little to make it in the 2nd division this time around too.
She had very little hopes of passing in the 2nd division and on the day of the results she cried her heart out for she had barely managed to scrape through with a second division in her MA, Public Administration.
Her journey as a lecturer in a government college started off with a better pay packet though she had to travel a long distance by the local train to a college in Dabeerpura on the outskirts of the city of Hyderabad to earn it.
Sbe did return the book to the good samaritan without whose help her dream of moving up in life would have got postponed to yet another year.
At times a power above gives us opportunities and also tests us for strength. We have to make the best of the time we have under the circumstances is the strong message that comes through. We have one life to live and it is 'now' that we can do something positive about it and give ourselves a chance to prove that we are worthy of ourselves.
This is all about a burning desire to achieve something in life.
This is about keeping the effort on to find that elusive something until we get it.
This is about being there at the right place at the right time.
This is about a stranger giving us a helping hand with no conditions attached and in total trust.
This is about those unexpected obstacles which come our way to test us.
This is about making up for lost time at the cost of a sleepless night.
This is about the dawn offering hope of light shining in our lives.
This is about making it against all odds.
This is about God's unseen hands lifting us mortals up with our spirits intact.
This is about divine intervention all the way through.
Since then my cousin has shared this incident with many of her students through the years and so will any who might read this.
Grab that opportunity and make something of your life! Move on.
You have nothing to lose except success!!
Cheers!
Mahalakshmi
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Chunnu, the dog
Dear Readers,
These days I seem to remember Chunnu, our landlords' pet dog in Kachiguda, Hyderabad where we used to stay during the 1970s.
I still remember a young boy bringing a pair of pups, both black, wrapped in a handkerchief. Our landlady whom we affectionately called 'behenji' (which means elder sister in Hindi), came out to inspect the pups on offer. she saw whether there was a male pup and selected one and named him Chunnu. Until we vacated the house after 10 or 11 years we grew up with Chunnu.
He had a jet black coat with small patches of gold and white just above his eyes which made him look so beautiful. And the tail which would wag and wag upon seeing us sisters!
If he were sleeping and heard a sound, he would open his eyes and raise just one eyebrow to convey he was not interested in anything except to get his quota of beauty sleep!
As a pup he would sleep in the same room as us whenever our landlords traveled out of town for a few weeks. Invariably he would sneak and cuddle next to us, yelp when he felt hungry, scratched any exposed head and there were feud heads! We had fun chasing him around the house.
I enjoyed observing all the emotions that flitted across his face - fear, joy, lethargy, mischief, curiosity, real anger, ecstasy. Whoever said animals were dumb creatures needed to retract that statement.
I knew I was his dear friend as I would play with him the most, imitate his barks and try to play the fool with him.
All this ended when our landlord's adopted son, a relative working in the military started coming during his vacations.
Chunnu would be so afraid of him that he was sure to be hiding under a huge bed and never dare come out to even eat for fear. In the beginning I would think it strange and would joke that he was acting like a shy bride!
Then one day to my utter shock I found out why Chunnu was petrified of that son. (He was in his twenties then, we sisters would never thought fit to talk to strangers so we would never cross his path at all). He would be lazing around house, smoking and ordering Chunnu to 'sit down'...
The landlords had gone to Uttar Pradesh, while we were also gone out most of the day as all of us were studying at schools and colleges. On one such day, I got home earlier than usual. Our kitchen used to be on the 2nd floor with an open terrace from where we a good view of the backyard of the landlords house on the ground floor. There were huge trees on the fringes of the compound wall from where I would observe the squirrels, crows, other birds go about living their lives. At times I would imitate their calls and we would have fun interacting for hours.
On that fateful day when I went to get something from the kitchen I was shocked to see our dear Chunnu hanging from the tree and struggling meekly. And down below this son was having fun, smoking and joking at the plight of Chunnu. A servant boy to keep this brute company in all this.
This sight made me so sick that I just shouted at the son to let loose Chunnu at once though that was the first and the last time I spoke to this man in my life. Luckily he asked the servant to bring Chunnu down from the tree.
I remember how I just rushed down and rubbed Chunnu's neck gently for a long time.
My feelings were so deep for our Chunnu. Then I knew what has been going on in our short absences while this sadist was at work with an animal which was so afraid of him ever.
The next day, the servant took Chunnu and left him near Charminar which is quite a distance away from Kachiguda, hoping to shake the dog off forever. But a day later Chunnu had walked back home from that long distance to more trouble.
It was a revelation that Chunnu knew only this house even though his life was in danger with such a criminal minded saddist around. He would refuse food for days on end. He ate later, only when Behenji arrived from her native village.
These memories from my childhood linger even now. I was in my teens then. Such incidents have always touched me and made the person I am today. We all go through so many experiences and these invariably shape our lives in some way. Those were the days when my mom used to take us for those religious discourses held in the Keyes Girls' High School, Secunderabad where the good and the bad of life would be conveyed through interesting little stories from the Ramayana and Mahabharata. Subtly we were told to differentiate between the good and bad way of living.
I thank my mamma for taking us along and exposing us all to such things at a young age. Those discourses on the Hindu mythology did help and continues to help to this day. Constantly we absorb, we are emboldened to ask questions when something is wrong like on the day Chunnu almost died hanging by the tree.
God bless his soul. He was alive but very weak when we left that house. I hope he died peacefully when his time came.
On my last trip to Hyderabad I heard that the adopted son also died young many years ago. May his soul rest in peace too and may god forgive him for his misdeeds on earth.
Prayers for all of us.
Mahalakshmi
These days I seem to remember Chunnu, our landlords' pet dog in Kachiguda, Hyderabad where we used to stay during the 1970s.
I still remember a young boy bringing a pair of pups, both black, wrapped in a handkerchief. Our landlady whom we affectionately called 'behenji' (which means elder sister in Hindi), came out to inspect the pups on offer. she saw whether there was a male pup and selected one and named him Chunnu. Until we vacated the house after 10 or 11 years we grew up with Chunnu.
He had a jet black coat with small patches of gold and white just above his eyes which made him look so beautiful. And the tail which would wag and wag upon seeing us sisters!
If he were sleeping and heard a sound, he would open his eyes and raise just one eyebrow to convey he was not interested in anything except to get his quota of beauty sleep!
As a pup he would sleep in the same room as us whenever our landlords traveled out of town for a few weeks. Invariably he would sneak and cuddle next to us, yelp when he felt hungry, scratched any exposed head and there were feud heads! We had fun chasing him around the house.
I enjoyed observing all the emotions that flitted across his face - fear, joy, lethargy, mischief, curiosity, real anger, ecstasy. Whoever said animals were dumb creatures needed to retract that statement.
I knew I was his dear friend as I would play with him the most, imitate his barks and try to play the fool with him.
All this ended when our landlord's adopted son, a relative working in the military started coming during his vacations.
Chunnu would be so afraid of him that he was sure to be hiding under a huge bed and never dare come out to even eat for fear. In the beginning I would think it strange and would joke that he was acting like a shy bride!
Then one day to my utter shock I found out why Chunnu was petrified of that son. (He was in his twenties then, we sisters would never thought fit to talk to strangers so we would never cross his path at all). He would be lazing around house, smoking and ordering Chunnu to 'sit down'...
The landlords had gone to Uttar Pradesh, while we were also gone out most of the day as all of us were studying at schools and colleges. On one such day, I got home earlier than usual. Our kitchen used to be on the 2nd floor with an open terrace from where we a good view of the backyard of the landlords house on the ground floor. There were huge trees on the fringes of the compound wall from where I would observe the squirrels, crows, other birds go about living their lives. At times I would imitate their calls and we would have fun interacting for hours.
On that fateful day when I went to get something from the kitchen I was shocked to see our dear Chunnu hanging from the tree and struggling meekly. And down below this son was having fun, smoking and joking at the plight of Chunnu. A servant boy to keep this brute company in all this.
This sight made me so sick that I just shouted at the son to let loose Chunnu at once though that was the first and the last time I spoke to this man in my life. Luckily he asked the servant to bring Chunnu down from the tree.
I remember how I just rushed down and rubbed Chunnu's neck gently for a long time.
My feelings were so deep for our Chunnu. Then I knew what has been going on in our short absences while this sadist was at work with an animal which was so afraid of him ever.
The next day, the servant took Chunnu and left him near Charminar which is quite a distance away from Kachiguda, hoping to shake the dog off forever. But a day later Chunnu had walked back home from that long distance to more trouble.
It was a revelation that Chunnu knew only this house even though his life was in danger with such a criminal minded saddist around. He would refuse food for days on end. He ate later, only when Behenji arrived from her native village.
These memories from my childhood linger even now. I was in my teens then. Such incidents have always touched me and made the person I am today. We all go through so many experiences and these invariably shape our lives in some way. Those were the days when my mom used to take us for those religious discourses held in the Keyes Girls' High School, Secunderabad where the good and the bad of life would be conveyed through interesting little stories from the Ramayana and Mahabharata. Subtly we were told to differentiate between the good and bad way of living.
I thank my mamma for taking us along and exposing us all to such things at a young age. Those discourses on the Hindu mythology did help and continues to help to this day. Constantly we absorb, we are emboldened to ask questions when something is wrong like on the day Chunnu almost died hanging by the tree.
God bless his soul. He was alive but very weak when we left that house. I hope he died peacefully when his time came.
On my last trip to Hyderabad I heard that the adopted son also died young many years ago. May his soul rest in peace too and may god forgive him for his misdeeds on earth.
Prayers for all of us.
Mahalakshmi
Friday, January 15, 2010
The Solar Eclipse
I have very distinct childhood memories of eclipses.
My early years were spent in the Wanaparthy Blocks consisting of more than 25 houses on the periphery of a very large open space as big as a football stadium. Each house had an excellent view of most of the other houses across. Maybe 11 houses on the ground level and 14 on the first floor level. One house at the entrance to this block was above a row of garages. It was longish with a very long balcony! Each room had a separate door and the entrance would be from the balcony itself. The Peshawaris lived in this house. They had a dry fruits shop at the entrance to the Mozamjahi Market right on the roadside.
Come eclipse there would be so much activity in our community of Raos, Reddys, Marathis, Tamilians and Sindhis. We all lived like one huge family. As soon as the eclipse got over we would run out of our houses - all bathed and fresh, waiting for the wailing of the poor and the disabled seeking alms. That was the day when they would go back loaded with so many old clothes, money and grains. It was the daan day. It was quite a sight.
Then our family would head off to the Hanuman mandir in Abids just opposite the Palace theater. I think it still stands there with the same name.
Today after this solar eclipse many, many years later, things are no different. Except to pray and meditate during the eclipse for the people who have touched our lives in these present times and a prayer to our ancestors. All the while not sipping even a drop of water, much less eat.
I was ready with an old but good saree, a new blouse piece, rice and dal with some money to be given away to my maid servant whom I had already asked to come after 3.15pm.
It is so difficult to shake off these small though insignificant memories of our childhood days. A whiff of the old scent still comes back to remind us of our past and what we were and from where we came.
Cheers!
Mahalakshmi
My early years were spent in the Wanaparthy Blocks consisting of more than 25 houses on the periphery of a very large open space as big as a football stadium. Each house had an excellent view of most of the other houses across. Maybe 11 houses on the ground level and 14 on the first floor level. One house at the entrance to this block was above a row of garages. It was longish with a very long balcony! Each room had a separate door and the entrance would be from the balcony itself. The Peshawaris lived in this house. They had a dry fruits shop at the entrance to the Mozamjahi Market right on the roadside.
Come eclipse there would be so much activity in our community of Raos, Reddys, Marathis, Tamilians and Sindhis. We all lived like one huge family. As soon as the eclipse got over we would run out of our houses - all bathed and fresh, waiting for the wailing of the poor and the disabled seeking alms. That was the day when they would go back loaded with so many old clothes, money and grains. It was the daan day. It was quite a sight.
Then our family would head off to the Hanuman mandir in Abids just opposite the Palace theater. I think it still stands there with the same name.
Today after this solar eclipse many, many years later, things are no different. Except to pray and meditate during the eclipse for the people who have touched our lives in these present times and a prayer to our ancestors. All the while not sipping even a drop of water, much less eat.
I was ready with an old but good saree, a new blouse piece, rice and dal with some money to be given away to my maid servant whom I had already asked to come after 3.15pm.
It is so difficult to shake off these small though insignificant memories of our childhood days. A whiff of the old scent still comes back to remind us of our past and what we were and from where we came.
Cheers!
Mahalakshmi
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
