Addis Ababa !!!

When you start writing a blog, this is the kind of thing you hope you will be able to post about one day. In short - I resigned my job today
- I am moving to Addis Ababa with my family

Details to follow. But till then, Addis Ababa !!!

Yes, thats me. Really.

I always thought that the first time I saw my name in print it would be on a magazine article, a newspaper piece, a slice of life column, something that would reflect my literary soul. The reality however is this.

I was careless enough to let them mis-spell my name!

A cop out? Hardly. It still represents days of research and nights tapping at my laptop while shooting envious glances at my sleeping family. I am most pleased with the illustrations which were adapted from my hand drawn diagrams and the photos of my own patients. Makes me feel like one big fat serious ass eye doctor. Whoo-hoo.

I am seriously grateful to Dr. Zia Choudhuri and Dr. Vanathi for giving me this oppurtunity and in awe of all the hard work they have put into making this book so great. Also, a big thanks to Dr.Sumita Agarkar for recommending my name in the first place. I would have loved to have had such a lucid, exam oriented text when I was a post grad. Order your copy at  www.jaypeebrothers.com  

Those roads not on the CWG radar

This is a post  I wrote last year but never published because I was too lazy to take photos of the road in question, but it reveals the depths of loathing and helplessness I feel each time I traverse across it.

A sea of potholes 

I don’t want to add to the million whining voices complaining about the state of Delhi roads or Delhi traffic. But guys,the situation is really bad. The road in front of my house is a chaotic mess of potholes and rubble. You have extended stretches of potholes and craters of variable width and depth interspersed with a few intact feet of tarmacadam. Each time you travel over it feels like an extended dune bashing session. The last time I remember being tossed around so violently in a car was when Appa took us on a Brahmaputra boat ride about five years back. We had to drive over the river bed in order to reach the make shift jetty and much violent shaking and tossing was enjoyed by all. That jeep ride is still a point of reference in my family. Yesterday, Appa came for a visit and compared the road to the approach road to the Masai Mara game park in Kenya. My parents went to Kenya last month and Appa is still wandering around with a back brace as a result.Thus, we have established that the deplorable state of our roads and the sheer horror of our potholes compare with the worst in India and abroad. Dilli tayyar hai! ( That was the motto of the CWG plastered all over Delhi last year)

Normally I would just use this as ammunition for my next “I hate Delhi” tirade but my current pregnant status has kind of coloured the situation. I was advised rest for a couple of weeks in July as my gyneacologist thought I was having premature contractions, along with a weekly  infusion of Progesterone into my gluteus maximi ( that sounds like the plural form). This has made me moderately paranoid about going into premature labour and delivering a rat-baby. So each time my car passes over our road, I get into a really foul temper and take each bump and shake as a personal assault.Vishal has devised a technique to minimize the trauma which consists ofalternately crawling over the potholes at 2 km/hr and speeding over the intact stretcehes – the Ninja ! ( No, it doesn’t work ) I have visions of my baby hanging on to his umblical cord for dear life like a miniature mountaineer buffetted by a snow storm screaming Wheeeeeeee !

So, now that the background is clear, the sheer ginormity of this news is apparent. A new concrete road is being made. Hallelujah! The work has been ongoing for more than a month now and is about 75% complete. The road was partitioned in half and one half was constructed at a time. So you can imagine the traffic chaos when the previous potholed ribbon excuse for a road was made half of itself. We’ve been taking an alternative diversion this past month which adds an extra 10 minutes of driving time but all for a good cause. However, please don’t think that a gleaming four lane superhighway is emerging from these efforts. The road is being created in so many sections that the joints are uneven , not to mention the contribution of our civic minded brethren who take delight in leaving tyre tracks in the wet concrete each night making sure that the memories of the erstwhile potholes shall persist. But it will be better, much better than it was.



Half done

The entrance to the road which is an elevated - depressed mess 

Thats the best we can hope for

Footprint in the concrete of time

Now, I can proceed to start praying for running water. Thats a whine for another day. 

Mausoleum musings

Now that the weather is officially fantastic I have started winter morning ruin walks again. One of my favourite jaunts is Hauz Khas, not the lake but the tombs and buildings overlooking it. As my sister, Roshni, lives in Green Park this gives me a chance to catch up with her as well. I would love to take Vihaan on these walks, now that he can walk but he has a totally whacked out circadian rhythm. I mean which other baby sleeps for 10 hours at night walking up at 10.30 a.m.?
The crowd at Hauz Khas is usually sparse comprising of a couple of expats and young couples darting furtively into the hidden nooks and crannies. I am always amazed by how few couples take advantage of the wonderful oppurtunities offered by the numerous tombs and palaces around the city. They are hidden , dark and shady and usually have a single narrow approach so you would have ample warning of people like me wandering around. Just saying guys. Beats rolling around behind the bushes in Indra Park any day.
The most annoying thing about Hauz Khas is the total lack of any effort to prevent construction in the near vicinity. The surrounding village unnervingly looms over the walls. Poetic musings are hard even in such a picturesque location when there are people hanging their washing on the walls.

I like sitting there and thinking about it must have been in its heyday with dozens of young students bustling about, living in the tiny windowless dorm rooms and eating peacocks ( Apparently ! )

Obligatory F1 post

I and Vishal went on Saturday and Sunday on the same ticket being unable to afford either the time or the money to go together twice. Them cars be loud.

Seasonal munchies

Old Delhi is justifiably famous for chats and kebabs, both of which I devour at regular intervals. However the impending winter has brought forth a slew of snacks which I was previously unacquainted with. The first is the sweet potato chat. Sweet potato makes its appearance around the Navratras being a favourite of the fasting masses. The vendor piles up wood chips and coal in the centre of a rubber tyre and then slow roasts the sweet potato till it is tender and infused with the lovely wood smoke. He then peels the skin off, cuts it into bite sized pieces, adds masala powder and nimbu and serves it with a flourish and a toothpick. The combination of the sweet tuber with tangy  dressing is surprisingly great.

My second discovery this month are singharas or water chestnuts. When I saw mounds of the green-black singharas piled up on wayside carts, they looked alien and not very appetising. But they are a favourite of my mother in laws and have been appearing regularly as a evening snack. Wiki just informed me that these seeds have been cultivated for food for over 3000 years in India and China. Of course, they are also another Navratra favourite. These sham fasters-feasters I tell you. In my house, they are simply peeled, cut and sauted lightly with a little oil, zeera and salt. It is slow cooked with a lid on for a while so that the salt nicely permeates inside. I can easily eat a kilo at a time, the only problem is that it is so light that you are hungry again an hour later.

The last item is the perennial winter favourite – Roasted groundnuts. The sight of those huge mounds  by the roadside with a burly man incessantly stirring the groundnuts in an iron kadhai is a sure shot sign that winter is nigh. I got the shock of my life when I recently hopped out of the car to buy 20 Rs worth and got this measly packetful.  I remember buying the same quantity for about 5 Rs as a kid walking home form school. A visual reminder of our soaring inflation rates.

Groundnuts are more often boiled than roasted in Chennai. Boiled  peanuts with a dash of grated coconut, chilly and coriander  is the quintessential Marina beach snack. Fresh peanuts are available in super markets in those orange fish net like plastic bags.In a fit of déjà vu, I bought some non roasted groundnuts and attempted to pressure cook it with salt. They turned out a tad under boiled. A testimony to my cooking skills or are Delhi peanuts tougher than Madrasi ones ?  

No food on Id

Id Mubarak to all. Kept planning to go to Jama Masjid all month to eat awesome Ramzan food but just didn't happen. I don't blame the baby for the lack of time, I blame the Delhi traffic. I can sneak out of the hospital at around 4.30 p.m. on a light day, it would take me half an hour to get to Chandni Chowk by rickshaw ( autos are few and far between in old Delhi ) Assuming an hour and a half to sample lots of street food and another richshaw ride back to the hospital, that would leave me stuck in peak traffic at 7.00 p.m. when it would take me a couple of hours to wind my way home. Of course if I were a truly dedicated foodie, I could take the Metro to work and catch the Metro back home from the Chawdi Bazar station. There's always next year. Enjoy the biryani.