Uncategorized

The Cube Of Sugar.

The cube of sugar tastes so sweet.

It’s in its blood to be sweet.

We put three cubes of it in our teas,

Which makes it delicious to drink,

Often we do so when our mornings begin and before our evenings end.

It’s beneficial to have a whole bowl full of it at your nest,

As you know what is very best for your taste,

For whenever your tea or milk tastes bland,

You can put a few cubes of it in the tea and be happy,

Your day will be made when you have the fun of watching a sugar cube dissolve in a cup of tea.

Adios!

Uncategorized

Clotted Cream aka “Malai” @ Rs.25

I remember three years ago, I was hungry. It was three in midnight.Mummy was nudging me. I woke up and saw that in her hand was a plate in which Ma had brought for me bread layered with clotted cream and sugar. Clotted cream is known as “Malai” in Bengali and Hindi.It is top layer of cream which forms when milk is boiled.

At that time my father was in Nigeria.

Then something bad started happening. Everyday somebody would steal milk packets from our house front before we could open the door. The milkman would place the milk packets in a bag hung with a hook to our door and despite our constant reminders he would not ring the bell when he placed those milk packets in the bag. So somebody very cunningly, conveniently would steal our packets of milk and few days later we had to stop buying milk from the milk seller, as he wouldn’t owe up to the fact that his boys were faltering in their duties. We started buying tetra packs of milks.

But the milk in the tetra packs doesn’t give malai.

We definitely miss that milk and malai.

Now while we were walking upon an uncommon street (it is not very well known). My mother saw someone having tea in a small glass. That person was standing near the front steps of an store. The store wasn’t attractive but unique.

We went to that shop and ordered for two teas. We asked them-“What else do you sell?”

The shopowner replied- “Milk and malai.”

 We were very surprised.  We had never seen a shop where someone sold malai.

One kadai is always on the stove and the milk is continuously boiling.

The shop sells malai @ Rs.25/50 gm and Rs. 50/100 gm. People come all the way to drink milk and tea over there.

We were so surprised that we ordered for the malai. We were very happy that we can have malai again and maybe with God’s grace all our troubles would vanish once and for all.

Adios!

Uncategorized

Bubble Tea.

Did you ever have bubble tea? Bubble teas are juice sort of teas in flavours such as lemon, peach, litchi, kiwi,etc., with bubbles flavoured as mango, strawberry, blueberry, etc.

When you drink the tea, the straw is to be held a little bit higher so that bubbles come straight into your mouth and that’s where all the fun is hidden. The moment the bubbles, enter your mouth the whole experience comes alive. Within a second you will find them popping. The fun cannot be explained. It is super, marvellous and extremely wonderful.

Whosoever has invented the concept of bubble tea is an extremely wise, intelligent and efficient person and a nice human being as well. Have fun while drinking bubble teas.

N.B. Don’t forget the popping bubbles.

Adios!

Uncategorized

February Afternoon.

It’s the month of February. The Chinese New Year, The Year of the Pig has just begun.

Each year February is warmer than December and January but this year it’s chilly.

Since, this afternoon, cold winds have been blowing and it made me put on a warmer shirt.

The most unique thing about such afternoons are you can simply go off to sleep in your cosy beds, under warm blanket and sleep till whatever time you want to. If you sleep off till evening, then you can make a cup of nice warm tea and have it with pakodas (an Indian food, which is fried and is very tasty and crispy to eat. It is loved by all Indians) or croissants.

Nothing makes a chilly evening happier than a cup of warm tea.

Enjoy your tea.

Adios!

Uncategorized

The Song Of Life.

This new born baby is the joy and love of his/her parents. Within him/her they can see themselves.He/she is a miniature version of his/her parents with his/her own individuality.

Life is a very precious gift, which mustn’t be given away at any cost.

I was very grumpy. I ate two plates of panipuri and then again could not control myself and asked the sandwich vendor to give me the sandwiches of my choice.

The junk in my stomach was not melting and not even a single burp was coming out.

Ma was also unhappy to see me like that. We went to the mall and proceeded towards the gaming zone. I love to watch children playing in the rides. We could not stand there for long and came out of the mall.

We stepped out from the exit door and were coming down the steps, when a number of collegians entered the mall, most probably they had bunked college. We ignored them.

Ma told me that we would walk the distance till home and my stomach would be easy. An old man, little bent, holding a stick and limping at each step was walking ahead of us.

We crossed the brackish water stretch. Metro work is going on over there.

Crossed the road through the space given for all. Ma asked me to walk slowly as the man was ahead of us and seemed feeble. He crossed and we too crossed. A person helped him also. He sat on the footpath at the junction of our lane just to the right, spread a plastic sheet. His dhoti had turned slight grey to black and his kurta was torn in three places and patch work was done on too.

While sitting cried in a wonderful, heavy tune from his heart without scratches “Radhe- O Jagdish” (the consort and her lord). His voice was extremely melodious , perfect in sur and taal.It was a crystal-clear voice. He could have beaten any champion of any reality T.V. show.

Both of us were stunned and understood that he earns by singing.

We went near him.Mother gave him ten rupees and I requested him to sing the same song.

He looked at me quizzically and asked-“You want to hear this same song from me or some other song?”

I replied-“No, I want to hear this particular song from you.”

He-“Are you sure?”

I-“Yes, uncle”.

His face was tired.

He closed his eyes and two lines from a Krishna bhajan came out from his heart.It was –“Lord, please forgive me that I cannot see you though you are forever mine”.

He stopped singing. I can tell you that, his voice is unique, superb and realized beyond life and death. His voice pierced our heart and overcoming with emotions, Ma and me, both of us were in tears.

Few passer-by’s too had stopped on their way, to hear him sing. His voice was a rare voice. Such rare voices can never ever be measured nor are they awarded on Earth.

While tears splashed from my eyes, many questions were aroused in my mind. They were:-

1.Where did he learn to sing so beautifully?

2.Was he a singer? A trained or a professional singer once upon a time?

3.How come with such a beautiful and rare voice, he was sitting near a nullah on a plastic sheet with the sky as his covering?

But I couldn’t ask him those questions. The questions remained inside my mouth. I felt that he was a huge personality and that gap between him and me was very big.

I gave him ten bucks and asked him “Uncle will you have something?”

He accepted the ten rupees with a namaskar and replied-“Tea”.

Still the questions pounced my heart and yet I controlled myself. That old man was an extremely talented musician and definitely he had some connection with the music world/industry. Seeing him there, it simply didn’t feel right.

I crossed the side lane and brought tea for him. His face glowed.

Wittily he looked to us and told-“I take care of my voice and throat.”

God, let me hear from him, let him sing many more songs for many, many more days.

The song of life is like a flowing river, like the sweet melodious tune of a bird. The song can be easy, it can be hard and it can be neither easy nor hard. That’s how the song of life goes. Once it starts, it doesn’t stop. Like the musician, it too has kept on flowing. He has lost his everything, but his music is with him. Be with you and within you.You are you.

The average life span of a tortoise is more than 200 years, yet they don’t change. Even their pace remains the same.

“The you” who resides in you is like a rose. Just as a rose can’t smell and look like lily or jasmine and in the same way, your self can’t change. Hold on to it and see the truth of life flowing within it.

My stomach trouble was gone.

Adios!