Dear Visitor from Southend on sea, do let me know as to what are you looking for in this space.. may be I can help you out.. do drop in a line, I am really intrigued by your daily silent presence...
Apart from the blogathon that I have jumped into there is another very important issue (!) which has been circling inside my head for long and hold your breath, it is about getting hold of a good yeast (!!) So that I can venture into bread baking..which I had been longing to do for so long. This search for a good yeast has been going on for so long that I have tried at least 4 to 5 types of yeast till now, I brought a pack from kerala store in Delhi, then when I went to Kerala I brought two packs from a bakery thinking that the kind of stuff they have at their shop, definitely they must be selling good yeast and was excited about trying it out.. then I brought packs from different bakeries in Delhi.. to cut a long story short... none.. yes... NONE of the yeast ever worked. During this Diwali I wanted to bake cinnamon rolls and started imagining the joy of my children when they will be eating the perfect, melt in mouth cinnamon rol...
The day before yesterday my daughter was quite excited , she was one of the selected few of her class who were being taken by the school to visit an old age home. She made a handmade card , got us buy eatables for all the naanis and daadis she was going to meet, she even wanted me to cook halwa for them, but since this idea dawned on her in the morning when there was only 10 minutes left for the school bus to arrive we could not do anything about it, she also had plans to buy a few saris for them and so on… I was quite happy to see that my daughter actually looked forward to this and wanted to really spend time with the old age home naanis, may be it’s all the good effect of being with her grandparents during the day, I thought. In the afternoon I gave a call to her, as usual, to ask her how was the day, what did she do at school etc.( for that day at the old age home), from the other side the voice that came was quite a sad one, all the enthusiasm...
This is not a work of fiction, but it seems so, even to me who is the one who has experienced it all. My memory of all that is being written here seems to have happened in some other life time, but all of it happened when I was 4 or 5 years old, but still the pictures are so vivid and so real in my mind like I am watching a techni colour HD movie or as if I am still there when I am writing it all down. I say it is not fiction because of the tremendous nature’s bounty and beauty and companionship that I experienced at that time seems so unreal even to me. Let me start with the morning, yes, so the morning started with me the 5 year old running from bed straight to the verandah and sitting on the steps of the verandah (of my house which was in a small town of Kerala), the steps leading to the courtyard, it looking all clean with fresh marks of broom which looked like half circles made over and over again on the brown earth. Sitting on the steps I l...
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