I'm listening to Istanbul (Intent, my eyes closed)

“Istanbul is beautiful and your time is very limited” – This is the first thing a Turkish woman told me when I landed at the Ataturk International Airport.

I didn’t know what she really meant till the bus that was transferring me from the airport to the hotel stopped at the Sultanahmet square and I glanced at The Hagia Sophia and The Blue Mosque for the first time. I knew I was home, I knew I was in love.

 

The Blue Mosque and The Hagia Sophia at night

Seamlessly blending modernism with a rich culture, Istanbul springs a pleasant surprise at every corner. The city transforms itself from a historical hub with lazy, winding cobbled lanes to a street party with fantastic music, food and wine within hours. It is a city that never sleeps!

In the midst of the dark night a faint tune travels across the city... a musician strumming his guitar, keeping a row of men standing on a bridge with their fishing rods in the sea entertained and amused. Fresh catch is caught every minute, a smoke; a chestnut break is taken every hour till finally dawn beckons on the horizon with a fleet of birds and the call for prayer..........

You wake up to the smell of food and to the sound of music. The whiff of freshly baked simits, Doner kebabs, baklavas and hot tea mingles with the fresh, crisp air. The street cafes switch on local music while they set tables and wait for customers in the bright sun.

Reach Sultanahmet square and you can soak in years and years of history just by standing in the middle of the road and taking a 360 degree whirl. A break from all the sightseeing deserves a nice lazy lunch at one of many street side cafes, all of which have very graphic menus and extra friendly servers. Dig into traditional Ottoman and Turkish cuisine while you watch the world go by or for an exotic romantic setting find your way to many roof top restaurants that offer some great views of the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia.

To digest all that food, walk and then walk some more! Stop for some tea and then walk again till you can just lose yourself in the madness of one of the Bazaars.

The chillness of early evening brings in the aroma of sheesha that will find you anywhere you are. Fancy milk or coffee flavoured sheesha? Worry not, the Turks have their quirks.

While birds prepare to go back home, the scene at the dock changes. A sudden buzz, frantic, hurried people travelling across continents. Watch the sunset from a boat and get a chance to feed seagulls that will travel with you, leaving behind a series of mosques towering the sky and enchanting houses you wish you could own.

At the final stop, jump off the boat to jump into fresh fish kebab sandwiches, all that cruising is sure to make anyone hungry!

Night falls on Istanbul and she becomes a beauty with all the lights and glitter she is adorned with. She celebrates her grace by welcoming thousands of people into one street where it doesn’t matter who you are or where you come from. You become a part of something so much bigger than yourself. You will talk to strangers, listen to a language you don’t understand and in all this you will find yourself one with her.

By lanes going off Istiklal Street are like a chocolate box, you never know what you’re going to find. And whatever you do, will be an experience of a lifetime. Drink up some Raki in a tiny pub listening to some live Turkish rock music, join the gang of locals taking over the street with their dance and back at the tiny table and stool awaits a plate of mussels and a mug of Effes to pump in some energy you sure need to match up with the turks!

.......As the crowds scatter, I walk back on that bridge watching the moon glitter the dark waters and the stars play hide and seek, somewhere close by a guitar still strums and up goes a fishing rod with lots of catch. I take a deep breath, close my eyes and try to encompass everything I have seen and felt into this one moment, a tiny part of her soul merges with mine. And I know that she loves me back.

Till next time.....

P.S - To leave you with a sweeter taste of Istanbul, a few lines from a beautiful poem by Orhan Veli Kanik titled - 'I'm listening to Istanbul' (read the full poem here)
 

  All images copyright - idle tuesday afternoon thoughts

Heart Warming Stories, Soulful Food : Desi Pizza For Single Girls (For an evening full of Gluttony)

"You better cut the pizza in four pieces because I'm not hungry enough to eat six" – Yogi Berra

On cold winter Saturday evenings which happened to be our treat day my mum would give us a choice – pizzas or burgers. Mind you, we hardly ate out and there was no Dominos or Pizza Hut during the 1980’s where I grew up.

Our treat meant that mum would pull out her Tarla Dalal cookbook start making dough and have yummy pizzas out from a battered orange coloured oven in no time.

The kitchen in my childhood home (a stable from the British times converted into a home) was out in the veranda and my memories of those Saturday evenings still stick to the smell of slightly burnt cheese and tomato which travelled through the veranda. We would sit on a swing and look out to the garden waiting for the pizzas to get ready, with half filled transparent glasses from the weekly quota of one Thumbs up bottle split in careful measure between my brother and me.

 We grew up of course and the homemade dough turned into readymade pizza bread from the local bakery. What didn’t change was mum’s secret recipe for the sauce that gave the pizza such a desi flavour and trust me though pizza happens to be one of my comfort junk food nothing has ever come close to what we used to make at home.

A few days ago a sudden urge for those pizzas came over me and off I went BBMing mum to remind me of the recipe!

Because I love olives and can have a full jar in one sitting I used olives in my version of the pizza my mum used to make, I also used readymade bread and tomato puree because seriously, who has the time?

With so many shortcuts, it is perhaps the easiest and fastest vegetarian meal to make when you get back from work at 9pm, skip the gym, dont mind a dinner full of cheese & bread and have just an hour before you eat and crash.

So here goes my recipe for the Sethi’s version of pizza twisted especially for single working girls (and boys too) :-)

What you need –

• 4 pizza bases (I used the frozen ones at Carrefour and tasted great)
• 1 can of tomato puree (I love Pomi’s)
• 4-5 pods of garlic chopped finely
• 1 teaspoon Ajwain (Bishops weed/Carom seeds)
• 1 teaspoon sugar
• ½ teaspoon freshly crushed peppercons
• 1 table spoon oil
• 1 Chopped onion for the sauce
• 1 onion cut into small pieces or chopped (however you prefer it, I use chopped onions, because I buy a pack from Carrefour and save my time and tears)
• 1 medium capsicum chopped or cut into rings
• Olives – Green or Black cut into half
• Mozzarella cheese (we grew up with grated Amul cheese on the pizza, so whatever you get your hands on)
• Salt to taste

What you need to do –

• Preheat the oven to around 170 degrees (gas mark between 6-7)
• Heat the oil in a non stick pan, add garlic and chopped onions
• When the onions become translucent add the tomato puree, add a little water to the can and scoop out everything from in it.
• Reduce the heat, add salt, sugar, ajwain, pepper and allow it to thicken
• Taste the sauce; you might want to alter the levels of sugar and salt to get that perfect tangy sweet and salty sauce. Turn off the heat when the sauce is little thick.
• Prepare the pizza - A nice thick layer of sauce and top it with onions, capsicum, olives and cheese
• Dump it in the oven till the base gets brown and crisp (I like my base extra crisp and always leave it a little longer)
• Cut into 4 or 6 pieces and hog away!*

*Eaten and served best with a can of bud**

**Guarantees sound sleep and a fresh you the next morning!

Happy Gluttony!

Heartwarming Stories, Soulful Food : Gooey Banana Walnut Cake

My interest in cooking is very recent. For starters the NEED to cook led me to get on with the pots and pans. Secondly my love for food left me with no choice but to simply just make what I felt like eating. Thirdly Masterchef Australia happens to be my favourite show on television.

Put the three together and you have me every day at 6.30 pm browsing for recipes to get home and try.

For someone who hated the kitchen, it is quite a three sixty degree change. 

As I started to cook, I realised how something inside me started to change. Cooking for me has become therapeutic and also saves me a lot of money in eating out!

I have been meaning to put down some of my recipes (actually, my versions of recipes I pick up here and there) with a story that leads to each one and honestly I was never confident. 

But something strange happened yesterday. I picked up a new baking tin from the supermarket and while I was putting down the shopping bags on the kitchen counter I noticed that two bananas were over ripe and had to be consumed immediately. 

So instead of throwing them or eating them, an idea of a banana cake popped into my head. Now, for a really really amateur cook like me, who keeps referring to recipes while cooking, something that came up by instinct was a breakthrough. 

I could feel the flavour of the cake, how I wanted it to taste like a banana muffin I had eaten before, but I wanted to be much gooier. That’s when I knew, if this turned out well, I will write about my cooking adventures because my palette for cooking has obviously started to develop as much as my palette for eating it.....Walk with me while I learn, experiment and start to love the world of cooking! 

So here goes my recipe for a Gooey Banana Walnut Cake: 

What you need -

• 170 gms self raising flour
•  170 gms castor sugar
• 170 gms I know, its butter but it makes it so much yummier. I used desi Amul butter which is salted, next time I will go for unsalted butter or margarine though
• 3 eggs
• 5-6 drops of vanilla essence
• 2 mashed bananas
• A handful of chopped walnuts
• Baking tin – grease it with some butter and then throw in some flour (an old trick my mum taught me)

 What you do –

• Pre-heat the oven to around 120 degrees (I use the gas mark which is somewhere between 2and 3)
• Just dump all the ingredients (except the walnuts) into a bowl and either use a food processor or a hand blender to blend it into a smooth mixture
• When the mixture is smooth add the walnuts and mix it well in the mixture
• Pour into the greased tin and dump it in the oven for around 50 minutes
• You will know when the sweet aroma of butter and bananas start to fill your home that the banana walnut cake is done!

What I will (and you could perhaps) do next time –

• Sprinkle some cinnamon on the cake
• Adding some cooking chocolate, perhaps try this with muffins

This is the kind of cake you just can’t have one piece of. Enjoy it as a snack on the go or with a steaming cup of tea. 

Happy eating :) 

Our Own Little Revolution (to say- Mera Neta Chor Hai!)

Without warning or notice this man has become the centre of my life right now. I read about him, he’s on the TV, I speak to people about him. If nothing more Mr. Anna Hazare, you have certainly marked your place in history.

I am not very sure I agree to everything Anna’s version of the Lok Pal Bill says, but to see my country raise a voice against something so deep rooted in endearing. Yet what I fear is like most things our enthusiasm will go down soon enough (we are used to loving our cricket team one day and thrashing them the next day). I also fear that the truth behind Anna’s cause might get completely diluted by the interference of the opposition who is obviously fuelling this to gain seats in the next election which will lead to another cycle of scams and breeding of corrupt leaders.

The bill in question is another matter – its anti democratic nature, the use of force of implementation by Anna’s team (we all know basic civics and the time taken for a million amendments and passing of a bill), its pros, its cons etc etc....

What I wonder however sitting quite far away from my country is that if I were back home would I be on the streets, flag in hand, Gandhi topi on and screaming ‘mera neta chor hai?’

Have I been victim to and given into corruption – YES. I have given ‘chai pani’ to the security guard to let me get ahead in the line to submit my college form, I have bought many tickets in black at Gaiety Galaxy theatre and even laughed about it later, I did get my licence without giving a driving test . I did all this but it enraged me when a police man asked me for a bribe, when it meant to give money to get into a college, when my income, the taxpayers money was looted by the likes a Mr. Kalmadi for example.

The answer to everything however for me and my peers would be, ‘chalta hai’, ‘hamare desh mein chalta hai’.

Because we are a race accustomed to adjustment. And we are so proud of it. It’s not just about adjusting to five people sitting on a seat meant for 3 people in a Bombay local train; it is imbedded in our core, our genes. We devalue ourselves and we don’t demand. Take a simple example of how in front of foreign tourists we treat our own people, go to France and expect a local French person to treat you better than he treats his own countrymen, you will be disappointed. So we go to France and become timid creatures in white sneakers and overstuffed travel pouches.

So coming back to if I would join the enraged crowd to demand for a corrupt free society. The absolutely right thing would be to say YES! But I am not quite sure. From Shakuni Mama to Suresh Kalmadi we are inherently corrupt people. I am not sure that the Jan Lok Pal bill will miraculously cure corruption hidden in deep crevices like unknown villages without electricity where Reliance Telecom has reached but to charge their mobiles villagers have to pay a hefty sum to the local grocer in a nearby village privileged to have power.

Maybe I am a cynic but I wonder how long the flame that has been lit by Anna will last before it is easily blown away.

What we can do is strengthen local bodies, strengthen and implement the RTI act powerfully, educate, feed, empower. We need to start somewhere but we need to start sensibly. Perhaps start by not giving ‘Chai Pani’, waiting in a line and not requesting the aunts, cousin’s friend in the railways for a ticket confirmation.

Someone rightfully posted a status on FB that, to clean a home you have to be in it hence to clean the country you need to be in the system.

As we all are a miniscule part of the system either we start a change in our own little way or stop saying – mera neta chor hai (kyon ki vote to tumhi ne diya hai)

*The ideas expressed are solely my own and readers are welcome to their own views :)

*Image courtsey - roarmag.org

She Painted My Nails Blue!

I was thirteen when I was introduced to atrocious coloured nail polish. Even today when I think of blue, black and green coloured nails, I think of her.

My mother thought it was a ridiculous idea, but she thought it was cool for me to wear sky blue nail paint during my summer break.

Sometimes, she randomly comes into my thoughts through the few things I have come to associate with her - nail polish, swim suits, ceramic jewellery, the colour yellow and big smiles. 

I still remember when I first met her - The first of my parents ‘young’ friends. Someone, who considered us kiddos a part of the conversation. When she and her husband came for dinner, we could hang around post 8pm and talk of the world, travels, books and English language. 

I saw them build a family. They seemed closer to me (in age and in thinking) different from the typical uncles and aunts we knew. I looked forward to them visiting us after their visits to far off lands; I knew there would be stories and gifts for me. 

She was there when Snoopy died. I sat with snoopy in my arms and she sat next to me, silently. 

She shaped my life to what it is today. The decision to take that step, to move out into the world was taken after a conversation I had with her, one I remember so clearly.

I moved out, life happened and I forgot about her. She became one of mom’s friends. The last memory I have of her is her clapping, smiling and dancing at a wedding. 

I think of that wedding day often and wonder why I didn't have another real conversation with her. 

One day months later, I got a call that she left us, just like that. 

I am sitting at home today doing absolutely nothing and suddenly at supersonic speed something random connects me to a memory of her.

I love how our brain functions to connect scattered dots from anywhere to exactly where we are meant to be at a certain point.  

When people leave this world, they just go. 

At times I wonder what happens to them. How everything one builds in life vanishes in a single second, a single breath. What is left is memory. And memory, fades. 
But sometimes, out of nowhere it comes alive and that one thought, that one memory triggers something inside that stirs your soul.

I know somewhere deep in my heart that she watches me even today. She sees me falling, getting bruised, getting back up and then falling again. She sees me confused, wondering about where I am and where I could be. 
I know she’s here and even though she is not physically around to make the ceramic jewellery she promised to make for me, she smiles that big smile as I think of it. 

Dear LA, I miss you when I need someone to tell me, that it will all make sense sooner or later. 

And I really hope it does.

Memoirs From London

"What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows...

Feel the blades of lush, green grass tickle your toes as you lie back to stare blankly at a serene blue sky filled with pristine clouds in different shapes and sizes. Pigeons chirp near you, perhaps one hops on your leg and then moves on; there is no other sound but that of a cool breeze that caresses your hair softly. You close your eyes and forget that there is a world that exists of which you are a part. 

One of the most important memories I will take back from London and suggest to everyone who is lucky to visit London during summers is to take a nap in a park every day.

 There is simply nothing better you can do to enjoy the calmness of a busy city than lie down in a park on a sunny day and watch the world go by.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass...

You can take the bus, a tour guide or hop from one tube station to another but nothing compares to the beauty you will see when you walk in London. (beware though, Londoners love jaywalking)

Cobbled streets that lead into each other with tiny cafes serving a modest meal. Fruit sellers that have the most amazing variety of cherries and an assortment of berries, have a chat with them and they will have a story to tell. 

Flowers wild and fancy with sleepy shopkeepers, Artists, strumming a guitar or playing the piano, sit and listen a while and then walk ahead to meet a street performer who will entertain you and make you laugh a little, admire architecture that oozes history of centuries, and almost everything a masterpiece in itself. 

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

London  hits you with a distinct, high energy, cultural vibe that engulfs you and you don’t have a choice but to become a part of it! 

Grab a corner at Piccadilly Circus or Leicester Square, a twenty four hour carnival and observe....people change as often as the ads on the screens, there are all sorts you will find here and I for one could spend a day just looking at people.  Watch a theatre production, as you enter an old theatre and you can almost feel the hundreds of people who have sat in the seats, the glamour, the music the charm. It’s an era you don’t mind being transported into! 

Stuff your faces with glorious food, Fish & chips with beer on a rainy afternoon, warm waffles in the morning or a modest breakfast of baked beans on toast. Indian Curry (The official dish!) or Arabic Cuisine the streets of London are a foodies paradise!

A poor life this is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare."

You don’t need a long holiday to bring back the zest you have been missing in and around you, to lose yourself in the midst of strangers in a unknown city and then to find your place in it, is perhaps the easiest way to finding yourself. 

Please Note: The Poem – Leisure By W.H. Davies is an inspiration to this post, he happens to be one of my favorite poets and this poem in particular is very close to my heart.

J's Way, All The Way!

Quite early in life when my family saw hardships in certain aspects of being, we all reacted in different ways that shaped us to the people we have become today, long after the hardships are over. 

While I never was an active part of the hardship, being a passive player molded some of my core values; I became extra cautious about everything.

Along the journey to where I stand today, I met some fabulous people. Some of them continue to be lifelines and pillars, and without them my life would not hold much meaning.

My friend J, is one them. 

Very different yet similar to me, she has an extra ordinary zest for life. 

Why do I remember her today?

While I crunch and I save for a rainy day and cannot go and spend a fortune on something without contemplating for a few days, weighing the pros and con’s, my friend J is completely the opposite.

Always fun, spontaneous and the one to get the party started, she will go through tough times but always look at the fun part of it. Everything has a bright, funny side for her.

Many people don’t know that this feisty thing has a side to her that’s extremely caring, spiritual and meditative. 

When I sat holding my head today because things were not going according to MY plan, I thought of my friend J.

How she would laugh at what happened, call me and joke about her having been a thief in a previous life to suffer such bad karma today.

I sit here thinking of her and wondering if keeping each step so carefully is the right thing. 

Perhaps when we try and walk in a straight line we forget the beautiful twists and turns that go along with the line. 

Perhaps it is Ok to worry a little about financials, a zero social life, a nonexistent romantic life, a horrible job, the lack of a million things etc, but never so much that you forget to enjoy the moment and the people you have to share even these sad times with.

Perhaps, J’s way is the better way. At least you smile through shit.

We are lucky to have friends passively molding us while we actively take charge of our life.

Friends who don’t need to say or do much to be listened to.

While everything else depletes, the vastness of friendship increases.

And teaches us, like J has taught me ... that it is perfectly OK to sometimes look at yourself from a top angle and laugh your guts out at the crappy situation you are in.

Sometimes, that just helps.

Just 3 Little Stories

From a writer’s block to writing three little stories in one hour. Nothing gets me as high and happy as being in this state where words and ideas just flow as if I’m possessed by some kind of mystical energy and my fingers can’t stop typing. 

So read on, dedicated to all the beautiful women I know and the ones I don’t but who are connected with me in this great universe, just because we are simply awesome!

......We are awesome because we believe, dream and never stop loving.

Number 1 - Mom is ALWAYS right (and not just about how to cook rice!)

Always, listen to your mother.

If I could offer you one advice for the future, this would be it. 

You will not appreciate when she will painstakingly try to fill some sense in your head, in more ways than you can imagine. She will scream and shout, sit you down, tell you the stories of her growing up years, laugh with you and sometimes when unable to express herself verbally, write an email to you.  

But in whatever way she says it, listen to your mother.

When mine told me the following golden words of wisdom, I thought she didn’t love me enough to let me explore my life.

She told me once, “Don’t ever, ever expose your vulnerabilities to a man.”

It took me 12 years, a few heartbreaks, and finally a lovely person (who mentioned this to me again) to realise that she was right all along.

It’s hard; to open your palms to all that the universe has to offer yet guard yourself against the pain that awaits you every single step of the way. 

It’s a task to keep a straight face when you’re dying inside.

But the hardest of it is to keep your dignity. To walk with your head high, to embrace the goodness that surrounds you yet not allow yourself be vulnerable to it. 

There are things you cannot change about yourself, I cannot change the fact I sometimes get too vulnerable. But today, every step I take, somewhere in my head her voice resounds and I remember that there is someone who is the most important person in this whole puzzle, someone who matters the most, and that person is Me.

Number 2 - Queen of my domain

After a few very crappy days something simple happened and changed the way I was looking at life since the past few weeks. 

I went and bought a new fridge. ( I had a very tiny one earlier)

I have been so preoccupied in the lack of certain things and the abundance of some in my life that I had completely forgotten to (as they say) count my blessings.

When the fridge arrived and fit so aptly in my kitchen, matching with the cooking range and the tiles, I took a deep breath and stepped back.

There I was, in this home that’s been a dream since as long as I can remember. This abode where each and every thing is a result of my hard work and efforts. 

Rewind to 365 days prior to that moment, could I even imagine standing here with this big ass fridge in front of me in the salary that I was earning? 

But it happened. At that very moment, I was right in the middle of my dream, grinning ear to ear, so utterly proud of myself.

How many women, even in my generation get the opportunity to make a life of their own without a man’s help?

To live in different cities and countries, study something completely different from the usual run off the mill stuff, make friends of different cultures and races, build a life that constitutes of everything and lacks nothing.

Just how lucky am I! 

I hate leaving my home and long to come back to it as soon as possible. It’s a place where there is always food in the kitchen, there’s music and the humdrum of the air-conditioning, where friends are as much at home as I am, where we laugh, drink and celebrate the fact that each one of us in our own special way is right in the middle of our dream.

Number 3 - Crazy little thing called love

“It’s like walking of a tight rope all the time”, She said, “You’ve got to keep the balance and your head straight”. 

“Why can’t I ever do it? Why do I always lean on the side that is not mine, lose myself and then hate myself for doing that”, I said.

I have had this conversation with her several times in the 10 years of my dating history. Sometimes with smudged mascara and at times with bloodshot angry eyes.

She, the one in the mirror, always so calm, with a warm, reassuring smile would say, “It will be right, when it is the right time.”

 I never stopped believing in her, even in the darkest hours. She would be there, a little flicker, holding me tight. 

I trusted her. The right time will come, someday. 

And it did. 

One day when I stopped waiting for it, in a rented car, it landed right at my doorstep. 

I don’t see her in the mirror anymore, the flicker is gone.

It’s a flame, bright and shining... 

... and its standing on the other side of the mirror. Smiling.

What do you wish for?

What do you wish for?

I have been asked this question on several occasions, probably since the time I could speak. Wishes, wants desires and aspirations, aren’t these the components that make us strive for more and go on till the end of life?

When I was asked this I often wondered what clever answer I could give to impress the person asking such a profound question. (One that probably defines our whole life purpose) My wishes changed according to the person asking the question, money, happiness, love, blah, blah....

In the past two months however my definition of what I wish for myself and my family has completely changed. 

To put it straight, I have been to almost one doctor a day; I’m not dying (at least today) but there has been something or the other that has lead me to be on antibiotics for more than a month. Do I like the feeling? Hell no!!!

I have been on vacation after more than a year and have spent it eating bland food and staying in. That is not a good feeling. 

What’s more, people close to me have been ill with cancer, pain and in need for surgeries. To see suffering of the body (which we all know is so damn transient, yet so important) is painful in its own self.

It brings me to that question again, what do you wish for? What do you live for?

Isn’t it just good health, a strong being and a fit mind? 

We abuse our bodies, drink excessively, smoke, stress at work endlessly and plop ourselves in front of the television in our spare time. Most of these crimes have been committed by me and as would have been expected my body did give up, not gravely but little, slight hints that there might be something bad waiting for me soon.

When I woke up today I prayed to God to bless me with good health, to end the suffering of someone close to me dying with cancer and to send some good health to my ageing parents and grandparents. 

To the readers of my blog and other who might stumble on this, respect your body and don’t take it for granted. Call the ageing and ill parents and family members today. Life is too short to think it can be lived tomorrow. 

Love and Light,

Aanchal 

(In Gujarati goodbye is said as – aao jo (I will see you again), in all my visits to doctors this past month and a half, I haven’t heard anyone say that J they simple say thank you and walk away!)