Posts

legends, lakes,and long weekend...a push for Pushkar

Legends, lakes and long weekend….. Push that takes you to Pushkar….. All trains were choked, every seat taken, not a single ticket in sight. Who says our economy is dead—tourism seemed to be at an all-time high! With back-to-back festivities fueling the long weekend, wanderlust pulled me stronger than ever. When the railways shut the door, I took the plunge into my first-ever night bus ride—and my very first solo trip—to Pushkar. The adventure began with the ride itself: a surprisingly comfortable journey under a clear sky, with a half-moon and twinkling stars for company. Time slipped by so quietly that the trip was over before I could even realize it, as if the road had carried me along in a dream. Pushkar turned out to be larger, livelier, and more vibrant than I had imagined. The moment I set foot in the town, the unmistakable Rajasthani spirit embraced me. Its streets were flooded with visitors—many of them foreigners, probably arriving early for the forthcoming Pushkar Mela. Thei...
2 comments
Read more

Menopause - A pause, not an end

For many women, the very word menopause stirs a quiet unease as the mid-forties approach. Hopes of a smooth transition often clash with hormonal upheavals that feel anything but gentle. Life doesn’t end here—but it can feel like a pause. Not just from the menstrual cycle, but from the sense of well-being women once took for granted. The way estrogen bids farewell differs from woman to woman—sometimes irksome, sometimes downright nasty, often uncomfortable—but its absence always leaves an indelible mark. Perimenopause is the transitional phase leading up to menopause, when a woman’s body begins to gradually produce less estrogen and reproductive hormone levels fluctuate.It usually starts in the mid-to-late 40s (though it can begin earlier for some) and lasts several years, ending one year after the final menstrual period—that’s when menopause is declared . Along with it comes a whirlwind of symptoms. Mood swings bewilder families, as joy tumbles into worry, exuberance melts into melanch...
Post a Comment
Read more

Crazy Roads, Take Me Home

If you ever want to test the limits of your patience, just venture onto any random road in an Indian city. No amount of soothing music or mindful podcasts can steady your nerves once you’re swept into that chaotic river of traffic. It’s truly wheeling into the maddening crowd. If Thomas Hardy were alive today, he might be tempted to rewrite his classic as “Far from the Maddening Crowd—Delhi Edition.” Bumper to bumper, car to car, the city’s tangled web of roads can drain the cheer out of anyone’s soul. On my daily commute, I manage to finish an entire bottle of water, polish off the fruits and salad meant for lunch, listen to Osho, hum a few Jagjit Singh ghazals, scroll through sizzling political updates—and after all that, I’ve barely crawled five weary kilometres. Perhaps those driving automatics have a slight edge—their left foot and hand rest easy—but for those behind the wheel of older cars, every joint protests by the end of the ride. Locked knees, twisted ankles, stiff backs, ac...
Post a Comment
Read more

Navratri Noshing

Fasting during Navratri is a ritual I have followed since my college days. Back then, it wasn’t much about spirituality – it was about relishing the festive delicacies my mother prepared: a simple yet indulgent platter of nostalgia, deeply rooted in tradition. pasty aloo jeera, crunchy sabudana vadas, singhada fritters, and the occasional crunchy makhana or peanut. The flavors, even today, evoke little nuggets of nostalgia. As years went by, Navratri became more than just a culinary delight. The fasting brought detoxification and a spiritual cleanse of both mind and body. The devotional aspect crept in naturally – reciting verses from the Durga Saptashati while savoring the fasting treats. Yet, each year, the temptation of festival delicacies seems to grow stronger, teasing the palate and tantalizing the taste buds. And with age comes the sneaky arrival of extra adipose tissue. Now, fasting aimed at serves a dual purpose: devotion and dieting. I kick off every Navratri with lofty resol...
Post a Comment
Read more

The bitter Sweet Story ofsugar

The Bittersweet Story of Sugar…. From nectar to nemesis…….šŸŖšŸ©šŸ§šŸ«šŸ¦ Wishing you a Sweeter Diwali—With Less Sugar and More Heart❤️šŸŖ” The journey of sugar is as fascinating as it is flavourful. Sugarcane—known in India as ganna or ikshu—was discovered on our soil thousands of years ago. From here, it travelled westward through Arab traders, reaching Central Asia and then North Africa, where it was cultivated along the Nile. There, people stumbled upon an intriguing discovery: when a supersaturated sugar solution was left in a clay pot with a thread inside, the evaporating water would leave behind glittering crystals clinging to the thread. This crystalline sugar eventually made its way back to India from Egypt, earning the name misri—or naabad, as it is fondly called in Kashmir—offered at weddings and auspicious ceremonies. Meanwhile, the Chinese too had mastered the art of crystallizing sugar. When their technique reached India, the product came to be known as cheeni. All derivatives o...
Post a Comment
Read more

Peek a boo with flicking tails and grotesque whiskers…..šŸ€For the last two days,my life has turned into a horror-comedy called Peek-a-Boo with a Rat. This skittish, jittery,ugly little creature with uglier whiskers, God knows how, when, or from where it sneaked into my home—has been ruling my nights, stealing my sleep, and sending me into fits of panic. One twitch of its dreadful tail, and I’m leaping like a gymnast, hopping on the sofas and beds as if the floor is on fire…My week end couldn’t have been more spoiled.Of course, I’m no killer, so the plan is simple: trap the beast. Enter our society helper, armed with a cage, a teeny slice of Golden Harvest bread (apparently, rodents are picky eaters), and plenty of bravado—or so I thought. He sets the trap like a pro, but when I ask him to poke around the cupboards, he freezes, muttering, “Madam ji, mujhe bhi darr lagta hai…” And there we were—two grown humans, terrified of a rat the size of a potato, as if it was a tiger we were dealing with.The days pass uneventfully, as I confine myself within the four walls of my room, with doors closed and mother in law making bold entry into the kitchen. But come nightfall, my ears are on high alert, straining to catch any sound from the trap. To my relief, I finally hear the familiar clinking of metal—proof that the little terror is caught. Yet, it’s the dead of night, and summoning Vijay at such an hour would be unfair. Caged or not, I dare not step into the kitchen; the very sight of the creature makes my skin crawl. I wait impatiently for dawn, and as soon as light breaks, Vijay arrives, dutifully carrying the captive far, far away—hopefully never to return. My mother-in-law suggests dabbing the rat with a bit of nail paint so we can identify it if it ever dares to come back. But truly, who would have the nerve to do that?The trap is reset, baited with another chunk of bread. The invader, undeterred, seems to wait for nightfall to resume its skittering parade. And once again, at the stroke of midnight, the cage rattles, signaling another capture. I exhale in relief, awaiting morning when we can bid goodbye to yet another unwelcome guest.But fate intervenes—Vijay is away. In his place, Mahinder, the garbage collector, is called to handle the situation. He steps up bravely at first, but as he approaches the cage, I notice his trembling limbs and beads of sweat forming on his brow. His nerves get the better of him, and in his clumsy handling, disaster strikes—the rat escapes, its tail the last to slip free. From the safety of my room, I shout at the top of my voice, “Pakdo! Throw a cloth over it!” But it’s too late. The creature vanishes, leaving Mahinder standing there sheepishly, twiddling his fingers. I give him a piece of my groggy mind, my frustration boiling over.A clarion call is made to the carpenter and plumber, who inspect every nook and cranny for possible entry points. Tiny gaps are sealed, cracks repair ed,doors adjusted, and until the runaway is caught, peace will not return to my home.And yet, as another midnight approaches, I hear the all-too-familiar clatter of the trap. Another night of waiting for dawn, another morning for Vijay to carry the menace away.This ordeal has not only laid bare my deep-rooted phobia for the skittish rodent but also revealed that even two strong, able-bodied men tremble at the sight of a tiny, twitching creature. Mahinder, perhaps wiser now, suggests using sticky mats to trap the rodents—where they remain glued and die—something he can deal with more easily.Meanwhile, I lose sleep, my mental peace, my sauntering around my home, and not to mention, a small fortune every time a trap is set and emptied… at least only when a week passes with the trap un occupied by the jittery creature will I stay composed …Amen to that!!!šŸ€šŸ€šŸ˜–šŸ¦”

Post a Comment
Read more

Grishneswara jyotirlinga

Six down, six to go… walking the divine Shiva circuit of Jyotirlingas !!! For the past few years, I’ve set myself a gentle goal—each year, to visit at least one Jyotirlinga, those twelve sacred shrines where Lord Shiva is believed to have manifested as a radiant column of light. This year, since I had planned a trip to Mumbai to spend time with my children, I extended it into a whirlwind visit to Grishneshwar Jyotirlinga near Aurangabad—one of the three Jyotirlingas in Maharashtra. ( Bhimashankar & Triyambkeshwar …being the other two) Tradition says Somnath should be the first one and this shrine should be the last in the circuit, but I am still midway in completing my Shiva journey. Be it random or out of sequence, I am not too rigid or fastidious about it. About 300 km from Mumbai, the drive itself was an experience. The Balasaheb Samruddhi Expressway, resembling a sleek runway, cut across the Western Ghats and made the journey enthralling. The road opened up to the lush green fo...
Post a Comment
Read more