Konkani Delicacies: Jackfruit Hapol and Vodi

Deep-fried foods are rare in our home. We save it for our favorite konkani delicacies: Jackfruit (Phansa-) Hapol and Spicy Vodi. Haaaah! During our summer holidays in Honavar and Kumta, we kids helped make them. The women would roll the hapol and we would carry them up the rickety stairs to the temporary roof (mandal) made of palm fronds and spread them on the woven mats. As they dried in the blazing sun, the pattern of the mats could be seen on the hapol. For a light snack at any time, deep fry the hapol and serve with freshly grated coconut! Heavenly. A few months ago, one of our friends brought these back from Udupi. May she live long and healthy!

And the spicy Vodi! I think they are made with flour, garlic, red pepper and salt. Delicious! Goes very well with dahi-bhaat or even a chilled beer. Now that our india trip is about a month away, there was no need to hoard these any more. ;-)

Authority of Ideas

"Dr. Stephen W. Hawking threw in the towel yesterday ... . Dr. Hawking, the celebrated Cambridge University cosmologist and best-selling author, declared at a scientific conference in Dublin that he had been wrong in a controversial assertion he made 30 years ago about black holes, the fearsome gravitational abysses that can swallow matter and energy, even light. As atonement he presented Dr. John Preskill, a physicist from the California Institute of Technology, with a baseball encyclopedia." As reported in the New York Times, July 22, 2004.

In a free, rational and prudent society, such a statement is not only hailed but also adds to the prestige of the person. This reminded me of the authority of ideas as posited by Lawrence Summers. Universities are institutions where the authority of ideas reign supreme; this is in sharp contrast to corporations which thrive on the idea of authority.

In Hawking's cases, his self-less dedication to the pursuit of truth (and ideas) is what matters in life and having the maturity to acknowledge mistakes adds to his aura. This is particularly timely for me, as I prepare to tear down the walls and theories that I (and the giants whose shoulders I stood on) help build over the last decade, ... and build new ones! Lets see what the future holds.

Notes: Hawking is the author of the best-selling A Brief History of Time;
Summers, Authority of Ideas, Harvard Business Review, Aug 2003.

Deez DEMS Don't Doz!

The Democratic National Convention is in town to nominate John Kerry for the US Presidential Election. What a ruckus! Major roads and trains are closed for security reasons. On subways, bags are going to be checked. Imagine the look on the security guards face as xe holds up my soggy gym clothes. They may erroneously sound the biohazard alarm. To save the city such angst, I will be taking a few days off and catching up on life.

Even though the DNC starts tomorrow (Monday), the city was already a buzz this afternoon with a variety of protests. Heading out for a Dim Sum lunch we were thoroughly entertained by the demonstrators in the Boston Commons and Public Gardens. It was very peaceful, very colorful and had the sense of a carnival. People were displaying placards which read the usual: Stop the war; Stop the occupation in Afghanistan, Iraq, Haiti (?); Bring our troops home; Stop the blockade of Cuba; More funding for schools; More teachers for schools; and so on. I was particularly drawn to these girls proudly displaying their enthusiasm for the Kerry Campaign.



This beautiful lady wanted to send Bush on an interplanetary voyage! Seeing her famished look and bare feet, my heart went out to this brave soul upholding our precious Freedom of Speech, and I briefly considered negotiating the price of the T-shirt with her. M's sharp elbow in my side reminded me that I had given up such liberties long ago, and could be sent on my own desolate journey :-(

Sunday Cuisine: A berry beautiful meal

Its July and the peak season for fruits at the local farm stall - berries in particular. Blueberries are my favorite, with raspberries, cherries and strawberries close behind. Theres something about blueberries. Bluish-black tinged, tiny, no seeds, tangy and barely sweet, and my tongue turns blue! When I wrap handfuls in a napkin and toss in my bag, they don't get squishy either.

Many recipes call for smothering the blueberries in pancakes, choking them in muffins, preserving them in jam, pickling them in a lemony cheese tart, freezing them, whipping them in a smoothie, or covering them in chocolate. I ask, why this obsession with messing up something so delicious to start with? I love my blueberries just plain - no recipes needed, thank you!

And if taste doesn't convince you, they have the highest anti-oxidant activity which protects from the detrimental effects of aging (I should know), prevents cancer and heart disease!

After a nice satisfying run, my dinner on Sunday was a bowl full of blueberries, a handful of cherries, papayas and a strawberry-mango lassi which you needed to spoon out. Burp!

unwashed blueberries shot in light from the setting sun, with Olympus C4040

Nutella Ki Baat Hai

After a two week hiatus, I opened the Nutella jar to make a sandwich. IT WAS EMPTY! How could that be? I never put an empty jar back in the pantry!

I asked M if she had the last of the Nutella. Nope she said! Its been ages since she touched Nutella. After much moaning and pacing I asked M again. Nope she insisted! "Besides, its too sweet for me." She is not much into sweets and my stacks of Indian mithai are safe. But M does have an exquisite craving for chocolate and hazelnut, and our stores of Swiss chocolate recede steadily. (I got those just for her.) After additional pacing around the house, I asked again with my practiced, 'lie and you rot in hell' look (btw, we guys don't have the genes for this). Not even bothering to look up from her newspaper, she responds, "maybe there is a mouse in the house."

A mouse!

Ghar mein ek chuva hai
ya daal mein kuch kaala hai!

Nature's Shrine: A place to give thanks

Livejournal user "shri" says, For me, God exists in Nature and I see him in a beautiful sunrise.

I can add, I see her in the blue skies, towering mountains, chirping birds, the butterfly and the serene lake. Wherever you see her, take off your shoes and gaze in awe at her munificence!




The pic was taken many, many years ago in the idyllic town of Brevard, NC along the Appalachian Trail. My favorite escape from the rigors of grad school!

Home Shrine: Where I bow my head every morning

Every morning I pay my respects to the Supreme Being at a small altar in our spare room.

It started out with the brass "OM" on the bookshelf during my student days. I purchased the Om along with a booklet of Swami Vivekananda's lectures, at a road-side stall in Kanya Kumari. Reading Vivekananda's 1893 lecture to the World Congress of Religions in Chicago, was a pivotal moment in my life. It sparked self-realization and started a life long journey. This "Om" thus graces the top of my home shrine.



As I left home to start my studies, my mother gave me the framed photograph of Shri Ramnath, our family deity in Goa. A tulsi bead rosary is wrapped around the frame. On either side of the frame are antique figurines holding lamps. To the right is a silver 'throne' with two ganapati murthis and a lakshmi. To the left is a baby krishna crawling on both his knees and one hand; the right hand is raised.

On the lower shelf is a sandal wood murthi of Udupi Krishna in a mandap. Three silver medallions with beautifully engraved facsimiles of Venkatesha, Satya Narayana and Sudarshan - memories of the spirituality at the Balaji Temple in Pittsburgh. The round silver ball to the left has a delicately carved peacock on top, and twists open to store vermilion. Silver dabbas on each end contain vibhuti. Hanging off the frame is a Swiss cowbell, with a ring reminiscent of temples bells.

The wood stand is from the Bombay store. The rabbit-motif backdrop was left over from the previous owners and I arranged the shelves accordingly.

Below the stand is a wooden stool on which I light a small oil lamp every morning after I shower. Then I say a small prayer, thanking him 'the knower of all' for all the good that I have been blessed with, recollect the challenges of the day, and ask for her guidance. This is a time to remember my extended family residing all over this planet, and ask blessings for them and to protect them. I pray for wisdom, for us all, so we can carry out our destiny with our heads held high. And then I lower my head to the floor in a namaskar.

Listening to Maya Angelou’s A Song Flung Up To Heaven.

If a case has to be made for audiobooks, it is definitely when authors narrate their own works. Authors ensure tonal changes are exactly as they intend, and the listener need not rely on interpretations of a narrator. And Maya Angeloumakes a superb case for audiobooks.

I just finished listening to Maya Angelou’s “ A Song Flung Up To Heaven.” Listening to Maya narrate her autobiographical work, will convert even the diehard opponent of audiobooks.

I am not reviewing the book here, but stating why listening to Maya was for me an exquisitely memorable experience. Not only is she a talented writer, but also a world class orator. She has a beautifully rich voice, and can control it as nimbly as classical dancers their muscle twitches. Her language and accent are moulded by experiences, in rural Arkansas, San Francisco, numerous US cities and four years in Ghana. Being a renowned poet, her voice has a lyrical ring to it.

Her readings reflect her inner feeling, and in many cases her very deep feelings. This could definitely not be conveyed in the print version, nor for that matter, by another narrator. When she is sad, you hear her vocal chords trembling, and her throat quivering, as each phrase rolls off her tongue. When she hears of her son's accident, you hear the shock in her voice and sense she is going to collapse, … even before she says it.

When she says, "mamma, ..." just the tone and treble conveys masterfully her love and admiration for her mother, without having to elucidate further; which she does anyway as she reads the print version of her book.

When she talks about her love, the joy and ecstasy in her voice mirrors the glint in her eyes, even though she does not say as much. Her admiration for her brother is equally transparent, and words make it superfluous, no - redundant.

In one instance he chastises a fellow African American for calling himself a "Niggah." Her repugnance is evident as she mouths the word “Niggah.” You sense she has bit on to something ghastly, and couldn't wait to spit it out. In this instance as well, her explanation of disgust with that term was completely redundant. Note, I showcase this as an example of the power of her 'voice' in conveying her true feelings, and not a critique of her writing.

A few notes:
She saves her best oratory for the last few minutes. Talking about black women in general, she says, "we had come so far from where we started and weren't nearly approaching where we need to be. But we were on the road to becoming better."

What she wanted to write about next? Something all of us can relate to, and apply in our own lives.
"... examine that quality in the human spirit, that continues to rise despite the slings and arrows of outrageous fortunes.
Rise out of physical pain and psychological cruelty.
Rise from being victims of rape and abuse and abandonment, to the determination to be no victim of any kind.
Rise and be prepared to move on and ever on."
This is a brilliantly recited lyrical piece. Certain to give you goosebumps.

She also refers to a children’s poem she had read long ago, "However low you perceive me now, I am headed for higher ground."

Whats not to love about this book! Listen (or read) and be uplifted.