Onions!

I felt elated after enjoying Dal and Rice. I enjoyed it because I made it. I have an arrangement with a Household to provide food. However, the person who cooks is out of town for a few days. I never cook, In fact I loath it. This perhaps stems from my previous unsuccessful attempts at cooking the aforementioned Dish. Eating outside, is an option but I didn't feel like doing that today. Moreover, the restaurants near my place need to understand that certain people enjoy nutritious food rather than a overdose of oil and 'Masala'. So I reluctantly decided to cook. I called up my mother and asked her for the list of ingredients and the procedure.
I then made my way to the nearest Market. The list didn't look intimidating. Onions, tomatoes, Curry Leaves and Green Chillies. The other items in the list were available in hermetically sealed packets. I had a tough time selecting items that weren't available in packets. Selecting Green Chillies was fairly straight forward. All the green chillies in the carton looked the same. So I just picked up a few, visually inspecting them for any blemishes. Next came Tomatoes. The market seemed to have lots of tomatoes. So I stood in front of these cartons. Some of them red, while others looked as though the red color has faded. I was confused as to which to select. I then decided that I shall randomly select Tomatoes and visually inspect them and then if they pass the visual inspection test, I shall test them for softness. I had a gut feeling that it shouldn't be too soft. So after 10 minutes or so i zeroed in on 4 tomatoes. Next came Onions. I went to the area where onions were kept. To my chagrin the whole lot failed the visual inspection test. I stood there for a full 5 minutes wondering what  I should do. The last time I came shopping for tomatoes, I had a nice aunty help me. She looked at my confused face and helped me with the selection. That was perhaps a year ago.
I kept staring at the lot of onions, hoping that some aunty would turn up again to help or at least someone would select onions and all i had to do was follow his actions. But, 15 minutes on, no one came. The storekeeper came to my rescue, he loaded the carton with a fresh lot. I wouldn't say that the fresh lot passed my stringent visual inspection test, But I was fed up of standing there, so i selected a few.
 At home I diligently followed the procedure.
I avoided the mistake of roasting the dal before cooking it. I did that last time and  I kept waiting for it to pressure cook and in the end it was the pressure cooker that got cooked, not the dal.
I chopped the onions, and tomatoes, soaked the dal for half an hour and  pressure cooked the dal , put the pressure cooked dal on a frying pan after frying the garnish and guess what, it came out well . It was slightly bland. But unlike my previous attempts, it was cooked. (Oh and I forgot the Curry Leaves)
' Try Try and Try till you succeed' is true beyond doubt. 

My Experiments with Ethyl Alcohol

I am writing this post while drinking a chilled Budweiser. I used to dislike alcohol, in fact I detested it. All that changed after a trip to Goa. My college mates and I went to Goa on a week long vacation. All of them work in the IT field and reside in Chennai. A week in Goa sounded fun, and it sure was. We went to a lot of beaches and and a nearby discotheque. In the discotheque I started liking beer, it was complementary with the entrance fee. I had beer before, a different brand, and after One sip I poured the beer into the sink. The brand that I got here tasted different.  A fun moment I remember was driving from the beach to the hotel in a two wheeler in nothing but my swimming trunks. That drive really showed me what convective heat transfer is all about. We frequented bars and restaurants. In Goa you would find that almost all restaurants offer alcoholic beverages. So I tried many drinks. On on occasion I tried to emulate the second most well know punch line of James bond, ' Martini- Shaken, Not Stirred  '. It looked magnificent , in a martini glass and a tooth pick on top of it resembling a high tension trampoline rope with olives. I took a sip and my reaction was - Yuck! , How the hell can he drink this poison. I gulped it, like one would gulp bitter medicine. I had enough for that night.
On another ocassion we went to the beach, and my friends, all of them booze gourmets, ordered drinks. I didn't want to left behind so I ordered Rum and Coke. The first gulp, was like hot lava flowing through my esophagus and then reaching my stomach. I felt a bit dizzy, and then I slowly gulped it all. Trance Music in the background, and a soothing breeze from the beach, I was enjoying. That combination was damn good.
In the end  all of us had a lot of fun.
 

I'll be a Monkey's Uncle

 I remember clearly, it was in 8th grade that I had vehemently opposed the idea of working in the government. But here I am doing exactly that.
Big Names, Bigger Aims but all I left with is shattered dreams. My perception about my organization was extremely high. I also believed that in this particular organization people would be righteous,  but I have landed smack into the middle of unrighteous people. There are a few exceptions. I have never seen a place so mis-managed. I somehow feel that the place where I work is a Gulag and the person incharge is no different than Stalin. I am unable to get my mind off that place, even during week ends. I keep remembereing unfair events and the fact that automation is the prerogative of a single individual. I wish somehow I could get my mind off what happens at work.
I am still hanging on because some one said that 'hope is audacious'.

Food !

In a pensioner's paradise it is extremely difficult for a bachelor to get three square meals a day. I tried cooking but that didn't work out. I managed to blow up my cooker on one occasion and on another occasion the food was uncooked or overcooked, and it ended up in the sewer. I spent 6 months eating here and there, in fancy restaurants and cheap restaurants. I managed to get hold of a family that supplied food to needy bachelor's like me. I could get home cooked food every day in the morning and the evening. I traveled 10 km on my bike every day to get those meals.
I recently changed to another family, closer to my place.
Finding a Tamil family that provided home made food made me feel lucky. The food is good no doubt but certain things amuse me.
Whenever I go to their house, morning or evening, they turn on a Tamil channel. Perhaps I should tell them that my Tamil is as bad as my cooking. But then waiting there for 10-15 minutes and watching Tamil programs would do no harm. There are 4 members in the family, the parents and the children. Somehow every time I come, their daughter goes into hiding. I am not sure if it my 'Boyish charm' ;) that makes the lady shy or the opposite or maybe it is the instruction of the parents. Traditional Tamil families do tend to be a bit conservative. I don't blame them. Parents are always wary of the girl child. I think after living in Chennai for 4 years I've got accustomed to it. Coming back to the serials , I remember watching one long time back with my grandmother while having dinner. I almost laughed when I saw the same serial with the same girl(i think 'aunty' should be the appropriate word) who was trying her best to get married.(she was attmepting to do so for the past , I think 3 years).
The most amusing part was when a bunch on aunties were crying for god knows what reason. Bigamy is the norm in these serials. I somehow tried to control my laughter and took my packed dinner. I hope the aunty who gives me food or none of her family members read this entry or else, I will be blowing up pressure cookers again.

The Ordeal

I was to leave for Mumbai to attend an interview, that was postponed by almost 6 months. I left Mysore on the 6th of February by bus, and as usual i got late. Luckily the bus was also late. The journey was uneventful and the conductor doing his best to play movies with an Imdb rating of less than 3. Suddenly I realized that i had forgotten my laptop charger at home, and i had to spend 2 weeks in Mumbai, for an interview with all the study material in my laptop. I reached Mumbai the next day and went to my office. An additional charger would cost 7k. I didn't know what to do and i spent two days reading in the Computer Lab. Then I met a friend also from Mysore, he had the same charger, and he gave me his charger, till my interview got over. This act of selflessness, I will never forget.
For interviews like these, we meet people who are experts in the field in which I am working. So I met them many times and had discussions. During one of those discussions, I realized that certain mundane tasks in Engineering are actually very interesting.
The day finally came, and as usual, I reached just in time. (I am not complementing myself here). In fact i reached after my experts and Divisional representative. I waited nervously outside for my turn and finally the bell rang and I was summoned inside. It seemed like 10 minutes, but when I came out,people told me that I had been inside for over an hour. I waited anxiously for my experts to come and tell me the result. 'It was Good. congratulations! ' was what one of the experts said. I was relieved and overjoyed. Actually more relieved than overjoyed. In fact I had trouble believing him, so i went to him as he was waiting for the elevator and asked him again. He laughed and said ," how many time do i tell you? , you cleared. " .
I certainly was happy that day. I had slogged a lot, and being me, I was very nervous. That was some relief. Better than the relief, you get after a trip to the throne, when the stomach is bad.
I thanked everyone and boarded the bus to Mysore next day. That journey was uneventful and the conductor played some Kannada movie. By the looks of it the name would have been ' The serpent Queen and the Half Clad King.' I chose to look outside with the volume of my music player high enough to avoid listening to the incoherent babble. That's what you call a language that you don't understand. No offense!
I reached Mysore and went to office after a shower. With that trip, I think I will not have to visit Mumbai again for another 3 - 4 years.