The Making Of The Dosa!

Since the past few years, the masala dosa has been one of my most favourite dishes. When I married the GP, and became a part of a South Indian family, my dosa sensibilities were shocked. Dosa was no longer what arrived on a huge plate with sambhar, chutney and sometimes gun-powder, but something that was used to eat the curries with, something akin to my way of eating a roti. I did not take to that too well, I liked my dosa, with masala, the way I was used to it. And it was always so easy and cheap to find this delicious meal in India, and even in Sharjah. But things did not remain the same, once I got here. It is not that easy to find delicious dosa in this part of the world. And so finally, putting all my fears on hold, I actually decided to try making some on my own.

I ribbed the GP about his roots, and he tried his hand at a couple and did quite well, I must add. The masala, was the easy bit, it was the actual dosa that I really feared. But seems like, my fears were unfounded. I did pretty well, and the result was very very delicious. Here is the step by step representation of how it went.















My first attempt ever. I used to so so fear trying this dish, and I am so happy i finally did give it a try. One of my favourite foods, and now I can make it at home.

Whet It Izz......?

Insert word of choice, like papa, pepperoni, car, GPS, jacket, slippers... ad infinitum. That is what my day starts with, and it loops through on and on and on. The BBs new found passion to find out where things are.He wakes up in the morning and the first thing he asks me, is 'Whet it is papaaaaa?'(read as where is papa if you may.) The good thing though is, it has not reached the stage of driving me nuts yet, and I just enjoy it, and instigate him every now and then. Its fun, and tons infact. A word I love have him say is dirty. It started off with this filthy paintbrush he found somewhere, and I asked him to keep it away, stating its dirty dirty. And he repeated 'dorty dorty brush' and since then pretty much everything in the house has been announced as 'dorty dorty'.

His talking, is to our ears, what the first drops of rain are to the parched earth, of a drought ridden place. We have waited and waited and waited. Its has been long, and it has been hard. Not just because we wanted to hear him talk, but because of the moments that we doubted our strongest beliefs, and did not know what to think. I have always been a strong believer in the fact that each child has his own developmental curve, and I knew from day one that I did not want to be a competitive mother. And this possibly was the biggest test, of that belief. At three, when the BB was not already talking a dime a dozen, it became worrisome for us. He would utter a few words here, and some there, but there were no constant barrage of talking, or questions. And all around I saw and heard of these cute little things the kids his age were saying, and I waited for him to begin.

Everyone, who knew him in India, would tell me, how he was a late-talker and would drive me nuts when he began, because that is what late talkers usually do, they said, they are like a dam that has burst. And all I could say was that I was eagerly waiting for the day. It was hard to have words like delayed speech mentioned, or being asked, if I had sought professional help, or even having to mention at places, like the day care centre, that he does not really talk yet. It was hard. And then there were times that I almost broke down, and did not know what to do, where I gave in to despair and gloom. Something within me told me, that he was absolutely fine, just taking his own sweet time, and yet sometimes, the fear would grip my heart and leave it cold. The GP and I fortunately alternated in that state, so there was always one to reassure the other, when we fell into a state of despair. But some days were definitely harder than others. Often I would reason things to reassure myself. I knew the reasons, he was not hearing a lot of conversations around him. It was just him and me all day long, and I am not a great conversationalist, when left on my own. We speak two languages at home, and often bilingual children take longer to pick up a language and most importantly the BB's need to talk was very little. He usually has things work out for him, before he needs to ask for it. An advantage of having the mother around all day long, and yet disadvantageous in its own way. I had spoken to his pediatrician in India, about it, and he had not been concerned at all. And he is an amazing doctor, and my biggest concern while leaving India, was not having him around. He was a boon to a paranoid first time mother like me. Besides not believing in bringing up children on supplements and medicines, just like me, he had very practical things to advice, even on the daily care of a baby. And so, he is the one person I could freely discuss my concerns with, without the fear of the existing paranoia of the medical fraternity scaring me. And I had been reassured by his words. I then found a friend, who told me he had not uttered a word till he was all of 5, and even then it took him a while to actually get talking. Today he stands as normal as anyone can be. And these things soothed my mind. And yet there would be occasions when I would read something, or someone would ask a question, regarding his language skills, often innocently, and would make me anxious all over again.

The BB is an amazing child, really. And I think he was tailor made for me, in many many ways. I know I am a biased mother here, but the fact is, that a lot of the problems I hear parents face with their young children, are things I never had to deal with. There were no teething troubles, no weaning hassles, no problem with him being around new people, nor of him getting cranky when someone went away. He is usually a fuss-free child, he has no favourite toys, nor anything that is a security blanket, and he can keep himself happy with very little. No he is not perfect, he does throw tantrums, and gets cranky when sleepy or hungry, and there is a lot, and I mean a real LOT of screaming, for fun happening late evenings. But truth be told, he is an easy child. The only trouble I had, was when there was a phase where he was pushing other kids, and that lasted about all of 2 months. He is smart, and I say that because I have seen the ease with which he uses the laptop, or the GPS, or the i-pod. There is no random punching like kids his age usually do, but more a purposeful using. He knows how to use the microwave, and enjoys being allowed to operate it. He knows his limits and does not try crazy things, that would make me keep him restrained at all times. We never really formally sat down and taught him things but he knows his alphabets, learnt on his own from a wonderful interactive website for kids, called starfall and is learning his numbers now(yes, the microwave.) I would open the starfall site, and cook and clean away to glory, while he stayed busy exploring the various alphabets. Truth be told, he taught the alphabets to himself. And I appreciate every bit of all these things, instead of cribbing about the usual kiddish bouts of stubbornness or slow eating and such things. But the fact that he was still not conversing, did prick me every once in a while. I discussed with a few friends, and I have to say that I was fortunate, that they were so supportive, understanding and reassuring. My worries would melt away after talking to them. And so I continued to wait. In the meanwhile, we shifted gears at home, speaking in only one language, so that its easier for the BB to understand and pick up. And its tough sometimes, when we are so used to speaking in Hinglish pretty much always.

I realised a while back, that being with kids his age at the day care place was really having its effect. Both good and bad. While he was learning to test his limits, with things like pushing other kids, he was also getting more communicative. He was going beyond using his one word expressions of things he needed. And it was just what we had been waiting for. Maybe it was interacting with children his own age, or maybe it was the need to use words to communicate his needs to the people there, or maybe it was time for him to start anyways, I don't know what exactly it was, but something did the trick, or maybe it was a combination of it all. While the GP and I both noticed it happening, neither said a word, for the fear of jinxing it, and so we waited, till one day he came home and began singing a song he had learnt, and though the words were jumbled up, there was the part where he asks, 'What it izz name?' (read - what is your name.) and then goes ' BBeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee'! There has been no looking back ever since fortunately. And in a way I felt it was a test of whether, I can actually stand up for my own beliefs in crunch time, and I am happy that inspite of the moments of terrible fear and anxiety, I maintained my position, and did not panic running from door to door, trying to 'fix' my child. It is true that no one knows a child like does the mother.

I am happy in a way that I was tested, and that it has just strengthened my belief in each child having their own developmental curve. As parents, the GP and I are sure, that we will never be competitive, pushy or expect the BB to live his life our way, all we hope for, is that the BB becomes a good, compassionate human being, everything else is secondary in life. We just want him to be happy and nothing more, and may God give us the strength to always live with that conviction, and never fall prey to the competitive ways of the world. I love my child, wholly and totally, no conditions, ever!

That's the BB on his first train ride ever. Just last month, on The Puffing Billy.

Surprisingly enough, he had never been on a train before. And I think he enjoyed his first time. Also did his first boat ride recently, and had great fun doing that too!

My SaTuRdAy

What do you think is this?

A huge container full of books and more, being given away!

When a month starts on a note this high, I only hope the rest of the days to follow can keep up, or rather I hope they do! It was Saturday, and we were in mid-day limbo, trying to decide on what to do for the day, when suddenly my phone rang, and a friend informed me, that a library had closed down in the City, and they were just giving away their entire collection on the streets. Well, the whole family was dressed and on the go within the next 15 minutes, though we expected to find very little by the time we got there. But fate had different plans, the container was still full of books, and more was being poured in every now and then. It was just, pick, take and go. Can you imagine, a whole library full of books just being let go. I jumped in, and grabbed as many as I could. And what was amazing was there was no pushing, no shoving, and not even any tugging, people, and surprisingly few, considering the fact they were being let go, were there, taking there time and picking what they liked.

My LOOT! 34 of them. There is even one by Rahi Masoom Reza.

Isn't that just the best way for the month to start. I informed a couple of other friends about it, and at least one, did rush in to get some for herself.

And then I caught sight of the 3rd Zombie shuffle happening in Melbourne. It was amazing to see thousands of people dressed like zombies, walking down the street. Most of them with unbelievably realistic make-up, making them look so so scary. I wish I had time to capture more photos, or atleast my camera with me, but the phone is what I had to make do with.

And then ofcourse my day ended, with my first ever attempt at a cake with frosting, and that too a mud cake. Did not turn out 'great', but tasted quite well, and so I am happy.



And so, this is how May has begun for me this year. How has it been for you?

What's Not To Like?

About a weekend, that brings in this.



Before anyone gets overwhelmed, all of it, is budget shopping, my favourite kind, to gear ourselves for the upcoming winters, since we have very little to keep ourselves warm in the outdoors. Lived in warm places the last few years, so never needed much, but its just autumn now, down here, and we are already feeling the chill! But whatever the reason, and whatever the merchandise, shopping always makes me happy. Yes, I am as shallow and materialistic as one gets.... and unfortunately have no shame admitting it. Still beaming with the weekend hangover, yes, that's me.

I Am All Awed

While the world talks, and chatters, she goes ahead and does it. She did it before the Angelina Jolies of the world, even thought about it, she is possibly still the only high-profile single Indian woman to have ever done it, and now she just goes ahead and does it a second time. She adopter her second girl child daughter. Sushmita Sen, you may lover her or you may hate her, but no one can deny, the lady lives her life to the fullest. She does what she wants to do, caring two hoots about what the rest of the world has to say. Just wanted to record my vote of admiration and appreciation here, on going ahead and doing what her heart tells her to.

Why My Men Are Important To Me

Late in the night, peaceful that the DH has reached his destination finally, I am finally able to do the post I have been wanting to, since last evening.
To say I am a happy person, would not be a very accurate statement. I have a happy disposition, but I also have a always-in-a-rush-never-relaxed mindset, so you cannot call me completely happy. I get upset easily, as I do get angry and hyper, while the DH (and hopefully the BB too) is my complete anti-thesis. He is hardly ever stressed out or worried, never rushed, he drops activities or even chores, if he feels like just lazing around and sleeping. I get all worked up about the things that need to be done, and so I neither rest nor work. And such things always lead to my getting all upset, because he is not up and about and doing things, while I am so tensed up about even the silly household chores. I want to reduce my stress levels and relax like he does, but I never really succeed.

And then when I end up wondering about all the ways in which we are complete opposites, and how did we fall for each other in the first place, there comes up a situation to tell me, just why it happened, and how much I need to be with this man. Yesterday we did our groceries in the evening, and got back home, looking for a parking spot. We spotted a nice one, and there was a Jeep there, with a driver, and we knew he was about to move, so we waited. And then all of a sudden, another car just comes up from our left, the Jeep moves, and this one gets parked. We realised immediately the man in the Jeep was holding the spot for the other car. I seethed I tell you. And then this girl got off the car, joined the man in the Jeep and off they went. I was angry, and said he cannot just hold a spot like that. And the DH was so zen, and smiling and saying , "Uski babe hai, uske liye toh parking spot dhoond ke rakhega hi na!"(That's his girlfriend, obviously he would save a parking spot for her). He was so cool and smiling, and I was so angry. And just then I knew if I had a husband, who would get angry at a situation like this too, that would just make it so bad for both of us, and here was the DH smiling and laughing about it, which calmed me down and my temper cooled down within a couple of minutes. Its so cool, having a hubby like him, especially for someone like me, who does not even need a proper reason to get worked up, and this man stays cool even under fire. I so so so need him.

Once back home, the BB had all his toys, colours, books, everything spread on the living room carpet and was making merry, when I had a sudden urge to check his height. I have this wall at home, where I make him stand and mark it with a pencil, and write the date of the marking. So it makes for an easy growth study. So I just took him, and one of his crayons to do the deed yesterday. Seeing me use the crayon on the wall, had his grey cells whirring, and he ran off to draw with it happily on the living room wall. I tried to persuade him not to do it, but then let it be after a while. So there they were happy red scribbles on the corner wall of the living room. Once done, the boy took his water colour box and rubbed it on the wall there to get rid of it, trying to rub it off. When all his efforts went in vain, he simply came to me and started howling. He did not want the mess, it had to go away. He took me to the corner, pointed at the scribbles and continued to howl. Now, this is distemper paint, I don't know if the crayon marking would go. I tried with a wet sponge, to no effect on the wall, but an increased decibel of howling. So I got an all purpose cleaner, sprayed it abundantly on the wall, and scrubbed real hard, and the crayon started to fade. After about a fifteen minute cleaning job I was done. Washed my hand, and sat down on the couch. The BB came into the room, looked at the corner, ran to me and just curled up into my lap. He said thank you to me in the sweetest way possible, by his act, he just hugged me and stayed curled up in my lap for a long long time. I cannot express in words here, how clearly his message touched my heart. He said it so wonderfully without words. Oh! My baby, you so make every effort worth a lot more than it really is.

So I ended the day very very pleased with both the men I have in my life, and knowing that I am a happier, and better person for them being mine.

"Waaaaow" To Simple Pleasures.

That is the word always on the BB's lips these days. Anything, and "Wow". The origins lie with the GP though. Each time the BB would dress up to go out, or put on the sunglasses, the GP would say ,"Wow!". And so the BB now follows. If I tie up his longish hair into a tiny pony, he says it, or when he tries on my hairbands, as soon as it is in place, out comes a big ,"Waaaaow!". The word is repeated about a hundred times a day in the household in different lengths and tones, and it is yet to lose its charm on me. Each time he dresses up, he says it to himself, when his meals are served, he says it if he like the food, he even says it when his favourite ads turn up on TV. The most wonderful thing though, happened this weekend. I was getting dressed up for a weekend outing, and just as I finished, and was looking at myself one last time in the mirror, the BB walked into the room. All done, I turned to leave, and he pointed at me, and said , "Waaaaow!". And I went out feeling a bit bouncy.

Today evening, I went out with the BB in tow, sans the stroller, I think of it as an entrapment, though immensely useful at times.It just does not feel right to strap in a child who would love to run wild! After doing off with the errands, the two of us headed off for a tiny walk, and suddenly the wind started blowing really hard. The joy on the BB's face was indescribable. He was squealing in joy as the hair on his face blew in the winds. It was such fun to just be there with him, and enjoying his delight. Not surprising, since the GP and I both love the wind on our face, the bike being our favourite mode of transport for years, till the BB happened. I see him going the same way.

And now for some learning, when there is a toy bucket at home, it needs to be useful, besides simply holding the toys. So the BB has put the bucket to some more use, as you can see.


He overturned and emptied the entire thing, turned it upside down and just climbed on it. Now I only hope he does not realise too soon, that he can take the bucket to various places and use it as a way to reach the things he otherwise cannot!