Bottoms up!

One cannot think well, love well, and sleep well, if one has not dined well.”

― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own

Woolf has very aptly condensed the importance of food in this one sentence. Nothing in life happens the right way if food is neglected. Food has a very omnipotent role to play in our lives. And it is, at the same time, very omnipresent in the language we speak.

Language is being constantly modified and beautified by food. Food garnishes the language that one uses with so much love and spice that one can only crave for more.

Food nourishes our thoughts. While worries go down better with soup, too many cooks can spoil the broth. Though we thought about of everything from soup to nuts, we never realised that we had our fingers in too many pies. Did we chew off more than we could eat? We treaded on eggshells during the project so that we would not have egg on our faces at the end of it. We wanted to keep our cake and have it too.

Food nourishes the heart too.  So while your loved one can be as sweet as honey, your home can be as warm as toast even on a rainy day. The ambience may just make you go nutty as a fruit cake or simply spend the rest of the day as couch potatoes! Either way you would not cry over spilt milk.

Food nourishes the body. That of course is its main job. And language embellishes this role too. So you have a taste for the fine arts while the icing on the cake is the award you got for your passion in music .And oh yes, in your salad days you stewed upon quite a few things though finally you did learn which side of the bread is buttered. And on your way you have also figured out that one man’s meat is another poison while time and again you may have jumped from the fire into the frying pan while trying to save your bacon.

So while you sink your teeth into this, let’s acknowledge that variety is the spice of life. Every endeavour will have its teething troubles, at times may make you feel as if it is a pie in the sky but the truth remains that there is nothing such as a free lunch. You may have to polish the apple to whet your appetite to achieve success.

Confessions of a morning walkgger

Variety is the spice of life and a morning walk offers more than spice:

·         The Aunty Association: This group generally believes in catching up with gossip. The previous morning was 24 hours ago. A lot has transpired during the time and this is the time to complain, crib and cry about it. Round and round the gossip goes.

·         The Over taker: This guy has to overtake everyone. Irrespective of how many people are around, the aim of this guy is to overtake. He has to be ahead of all in the ground. Considering that the walking track is circular, his aim beats me!

·         The twins: These are the early morning couples joint at the hip. They need to walk together, talk together and yes definitely live life together.

·         The one more singer: This one will walk for one more song. This one counts rounds not by numbers but by the number of songs he finishes hearing while walking.

·         The sitting duck: This one believes that simply watching other people walk can help him get fit.

·         The inverter: This guy has to walk in the opposite direct ion of the rest of the gang. If the entire garden is moving clock wise, he will move anti clock wise. . He will insist on others changing their track for him.

·         The grasshopper: This guy has to begin his session with two rounds on the fresh green grass. The board ‘Keep off the grass’ necessarily may not make sense.

·         The yogi: These guys end their sessions with a bout of yoga.

·         The walkgger : that of course is me------the walker who thinks what to write in the next blog .

TOSS

I clean my wardrobe

I pick up the green t-shirt.

I toss it over my shoulder.

I turn to see it fall.

It falls to the sound of the train.

I see myself at the station, just fresh out of my first day at work

I celebrate. I buy a green t-shirt.

Something scratches my fist.

I bleed. I flinch. I pick it up.

It’s an earring with a missing white stone.

The red stone mocks at me.

I wipe my bleeding hand and focus on my bleeding heart.

I hear voices; Voices of a one I held very dear.

I take her into the shop. I show her the earring

She gifts it on my birthday.

I treasure it. It symbolises our friendship.

The white stone falls off the day she walks out of our room.

She has had enough of our friendship she says.

She leaves. The earring and an aching heart remain.

I look at them: the earring and the aching heart and the bleeding hand.

I wipe the hand, soothe the heart and toss the earring into the past.

I clear my wardrobe.

I toss. I throw. I wash. I wipe. I reset. I re arrange.

I look ahead .I see the New Year waiting at my door. I turn back.

Somethings remain.

They always will.

My Google

Me: Are you ready for tomorrow’s paper? Do you have your pencil box, pens and other things in place?

Ashish: Yes, mom!

Me: And what about the writing board?

Gopal : It’s on the table. I spent the afternoon looking for it. He forgot where he had kept it after the last exam!

 Ashish (hugging him): And that’s exactly why you are my Google!