Cooking

In a universe where everything is geared towards greater and greater entropy, the fact that something as complex as our selves should exist is a contradiction. Of course, if for a moment, I were to step back in contrived humility, and put myself and the rest of mankind aside, we do notice that there are other examples... such as the planets, the stars, the galaxies, and almost everything else we see.

Also, we see the continuous interaction of opposites ... like a star finally becoming a supernova, and if heavy enough, also becoming a black hole .. etc etc.... our society, trying to get more and more orderly while constantly trying to avoid decadence and anti-social elements.

Not really going at a tangent here ... I was just thinking that perhaps why I find cooking so peaceful is because, it is an integral part of what we are. By-products of a cosmic kitchen.

There is nothing quite as enjoyable and satisfying as cooking. Perhaps those for whom it has become a chore or those who have a dead line and n number of mouths to feed may not agree. I generally cook for myself or a special few. No dead lines (except hunger), and only my mouth to feed.

After a hectic day at the office, churning out code, and designs and god knows what else, and sitting through endless meetings when you sometimes cant help but wonder if this is what god created man for, cooking is like touching base... connecting with your soul.

I don't cook by the watch. I am not one to use measuring cups and spoons and small scales ... I don't read recipie books .... I just follow my instinct and do what I want to do. What feels right. It gives me an opportunity to explore the intuitive side in me ... give it some leash, and strengthen it further.

When I am cooking though, the beauty of it is not this complex thought structure but the absence of all thought structures. The peace and quiet within the head ... no small voices jibbering for attention from within ... a feast of the senses .. the smell of the spices, the warmth of the stove, the sound of the dry chillies crackling in the oil, the sizzle of french fries getting fried, the smoothness of flowing cream, the smell of melting butter, the sting of onions, the stench of garlic ...

There is nothing quite like it .. wouldn't you agree?

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The irony of it struck me as i was just scrolling to check my old posts.
Here I am, pouring out so much of me on a web site for all to see but apparently not many care.
Princess Diana on the other hand had to pay with her life for not wanting to share all.

I did add a counter to my blog initially to count the number of hits. It took me a while to realize that I did not care so much whether anyone reads it or not. I write for the sake of writing - not for the sake of reading. Were I to write for an audience, it would all meaning.

A contradiction perhaps ... why the hell am I writing it in a public page instead of some file on my comp in that case? I wonder ... Gotta think about that one a bit.

Well anyway, damn that thought took all the fizz out of my blog. I wanted to rave and rant about how I was not tied to public opinion and for me writing is like real personal business ... cleansing of my soul .. why the hell in a public space though?

I'll wonder about this over dinner I guess.

lost forever

Last night, just as I was dozing off, I thought of something smart and bright. Now, for all the money in the world (and some martian currency thrown in as well), I cannot figure what it was.

I had thought of writing it down. However, at that time, it seemed to be so obvious a thing that I was sure I wouldn't forget it. A true tragedy. We are lucky Kekule had better recollection of his dreams and thoughts than I do.

This reminds me of something that I had wanted to do a long time ago - have a diary next to my bed to write such things down as and when they come to me. I am convinced that this cannot be a problem unique to me. In some quasi state in the middle of the night, a lot of problems unravel themselves, and many of us understand many of the secrets of life. However, the moment of enlightenment gets shrouded and lost in the glare of the morning sun.

I slept very well last night despite the heat and everything .. maybe it was just that all these sleepless nights added up and I was so tired that there was no other option but to sleep. Can't help wondering though whether it had something to do with this thought that had come just as I was falling asleep .. whether enough loose ends tied themselves up and got filed away somewhere in my thoughts .... giving me some much needed peace of mind.

This note however is just a requiem for all those lost moments and thoughts in my life and yours.

Remembered for having been forgotten!

Sleepless in Bangalore

Not really. My eyes are burning as I write this. However, I'll have to admit I don't sleep very well any more. All the more frustrating, when you feel sleepy and drowsy all day ... but when you try to sleep, something doesn't fit in.

I assume it is the heat. I am not used to hot places any more. Delhi used to get much hotter than this, but as a kid in the hostel, sleep was never a priority. Also, much more drastic alternatives were available then. During summers, often just before going for dinner, we would get buckets of water from the bathroom and just pour it over our mattresses. By the time we were done with dinner, followed by the post dinner walk and got back to the room, the mattresses would be as dry as a board .. and just a wee bit cooler. Can't imagine doing that now. We lose such a lot in growing up ... like the ability to pour a bucket full of water on a mattress.

Thinking of school, and hostel brings up other memories.
Ours was a pretty funky hostel, and in retrospect (after experiencing the engineering college hostel) the food was really terrific. We would get these small 10 gram butter packs along with our breakfast (like in the planes) and we'd once in a while, collect these.

Around 10:30 p.m. the assistant warden would come for our attendance ... we would put all the butter on the top most stair just or on the landing of our floor. He never did fall ... but it was always a pleasure to watch him skid a little. He'd be careful the next few days ... but he always, eventually forgot .. and we always remembered :)

The very last night I spent in that hostel, I remember it was really hot and most of the blokes had already left. The staff had started folding up for the year, and the mattresses had been piled up in the rooms where everyone had left.

I was not feeling too good about leaving Delhi ... a lot of things involved .. and wanted to have some time one my own. Wandering around, I reached the top floor and found a heap of 13 mattresses piled one on the other. I remember climbing up to check how it felt to be on top of that many mattresses ... the next thing i remember is waking up about 6 in the morning, with the tinny music of the aquaguard attached to the water cooler resonating through the floor.

Timeless....