Posted in Family and Society, Life, Personal Musings, Photography Art, Stories Around the World

The Flight to Catch

“All our sweetest hours fly fastest.” Virgil

Every now and then, when school isn’t there between the turn of the academic sessions, we take a day off in the middle of the week. Nothing exclusive or exciting is planned. With the weather being nice, we just pack off a picnic lunch, couple of snack meals and then head off for a local park, hill top or just the beach. The purpose was always to just set the ball rolling and have some downtime with the kids. For the impromptu rainy days, it would be spent outdoor with paper boats, in the tree house or just a family camp-out in the fields.

We started this trend once we realized that each of us have our own tight morning schedules. With the kids being in school and we both, as parents having our own work environment, the family ground was just reduced to evening hours, domestic chores, dinner and Sundays. The effect was the feel of drifting away, even though evenings were there. Which is why, when things are light, we all pack off to make our own memories. For while our independent days are important with a mix of choice and necessity, these special days are occasions for us o bond better with each other, help us find our even footing in the paths of life and keep us connected for the later days in life.

Reflecting back on own childhood days, the personal cache of recalls not relate to travels alone but also of the impromptu baking or art sessions in my mother’s studio, going for long treks, camp-outs and the days on the farm especially during summer. Those days never had any fancy restaurants, social media applications or instant transfer of media, commentary or comparisons. Those days were spent on the moments. As the wise of those days knew, that was the gift of life and time.

All of us have our own hectic schedules, whether as students, professionals, part-time employees, entrepreneurs, homemakers and the like. While some of may be able to prioritize between friends and family, sometimes the distribution of time is way off the ideal for our own personal balance. While one may try to shorten everything to what is necessary and important based on social requirements; know that time is of a fleeing essence. It may be there one minute, but gone the next. Realization of this little fact works wonders in helping us balance out and regroup the priorities in their required manner.

Man only lives once, but creates memories and moments, meant for lifetime. When those of regret linger longer, it tends to wipe out the best parts of life, besides draining one internally. Looking back on those moments, when one tries to set their priorities right, the days become sweet, full of life, rich with laughter and treasured moments.

“Time has a wonderful way of showing us what really matters.” Margaret Peters

While at the park one day, a woman sat down next to a man on a bench near a playground. “That’s my son over there,” she said, pointing to a little boy in a red sweater who was gliding down the slide. “He’s a fine looking boy”, the man said. “That’s my daughter on the bike in the white dress.” Then, looking at his watch, he called to his daughter. “What do you say we go, Melissa?” Melissa pleaded, “Just five more minutes, Dad. Please? Just five more minutes.” The man nodded and Melissa continued to ride her bike to her heart’s content. Minutes passed and the father stood and called again to his daughter. “Time to go now?” Again Melissa pleaded, “Five more minutes, Dad. Just five more minutes.” The man smiled and said, “OK.” “My, you certainly are a patient father,” the woman responded.

The man smiled and then said, “Her older brother Tommy was killed by a drunk driver last year while he was riding his bike near here. I never spent much time with Tommy and now I’d give anything for just five more minutes with him. I’ve vowed not to make the same mistake with Melissa. She thinks she has five more minutes to ride her bike. The truth is, I get five more minutes to watch her play.”
Source: Social Media (via The Internet)

Posted in Christian, Daily, Family and Society, poetry, Reflections

With His Hand

One of the early evenings at home, there was a sudden inspiration to start off a new recipe. Unfortunately it required quite a bit of milk. So there was an impromptu trip to the local grocers’. Leaving a child alone at home wasn’t an option, so he had tagged along. It’s only when we ventured onto the sidewalk, the realization of a “busy road” was understood. With heavy traffic on one side, road construction still going on and plenty of feet on the sidewalks, it was a huge rush that one could be lost in. So holding hands ( not the norm’ for a seven year old) we had crossed the road. While nothing eventful happened, the smaller hand held on securely for the fear of getting lost in the crowd was upper most in the mind.

“Do two walk together, unless they have agreed to meet?” (Amos 3:3)

During the walk together, holding hands ensured that both went along the same path, keeping an eye on the road, the pile of pebbles or gravel alongside and watching for any construction pits nearby. When a car takes a sudden detour, it was the restraining by the hand that caused one to look up and stop or watch their step. Such is the love of our Father. He just requires us to hold His Hand as we walk ahead.

“He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”(Micah 6:8)

To walk with Him requires us to follow the same direction as He Goes. His Ways are defined by His Word, as the Scriptures teach us the same. The best part as we walk with Him is the feeling of safety, His Love, His Grace and His Care that surrounds us completely. In the event that one may stumble or fall into the pits, His Hand would reach out to hold us back or guide us through the stumble; such that we feel safe and loved once again. As the toddler who feels secure with his parents or carers, such is the security and love that one feels when God walks with us. Such walks are to be treasured and priceless gifts of time and love that life gifts us.

Walk With God
by Ellen Bailey

When you walk with God, you can do anything
It doesn’t matter what problems life may bring
You may have your days of ups and downs
But if you call out, He’ll be around

When you walk with God, your heart will sing
From the love and joy His presence brings
Your path will be clear, for He is the light
But you must walk with faith and not by sight

When you walk with God, you join a Holy Team
The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost is what I mean
They will shower you with an abiding faith
And fill your heart with love and not with hate

Posted in Food

Topsy, Up-turned and Sweet

If today’s entry went into the kitchen journal, it would be under the set of “kitchen disasters nearly rescued.” With the lock-down still in effect, the demand for dessert is quite strong. So with a share of the pineapple crop from home, going for an pineapple pie was a quick and easy solution. Yet has anyone wondered what happens next, when one has planned to make the puree for an apple pie, but got the cuts turned to the near brown-black? While on one hand, the litany of “not now” goes on and the contents get thrown out; the other side is to improvise and make it into a palatable dessert.

Entering into the scenes behind one of the famous dishes, history teaches that some of the best creations happen with quick thinking, courage, improvisation and a whole dash of creativity, all occurring in a short span of time. One such dish, is the Tarte Tatin.

As the records go, the 188os saw a special dish created at the Hôtel Tatin, Lamotte-Beuvron, Loir-et-Cher which is south of Paris, which was run by two sisters, Stéphanie and Caroline Tatin. Records of the popular legend state that, Stephanie Tatin had left the apples cooking in butter and sugar for a long time, beyond the required effect meant for an apple pie. To salvage the dish, the pastry base was put on top of the pan of apples and then the whole set into the oven. The dish when turned out as an upside down tart was a welcome addition to the menu, which stayed on since then.

Not known as the Tarte Tatin of now, these upside down dishes were a specialty of the Sologne region. Whether it was the forerunner of the recipe of today’s, food historians still debate on these points, especially with the lack of historical evidence at hand. Regardless, it is adventures like these that give one inspiration to salvage the contents at hand, and make a dish for the love of cooking and for own pleasure.

Keeping to the upside theme, one dessert cake would be the “pineapple upside down”cake. The cake is baked in a single pan with toppings, which can range from chopped or sliced (glazed, plain or caramelized) apples, cherries peaches or pineapple placed at the bottom of the pan. When served, the upside-down cake is de-panned, thus righting it to the “right-side up”. The fruits form a baked topping after the cake is inverted. Sticking to the traditional upside-down desserts, the choice ranges form the regular American pineapple upside-down cake to the French Tarte Tatin or the Brazilian or Portuguese bolo de ananás.

While many local cuisines may have their own set of similar dishes or recipes, getting inventive sure helps one to savour the other side of the globe. When travelling is out of the question, creating the dish is a voyage worth embarking on.

Posted in Life, Personal Musings, poetry, Quotes, Work

Through the Tenor

The morning work drive doesn’t fail to impress one each day. Yet there are those days when nothing fails to incite a response. Guess it is one of those times when the inner tenor is unbalanced and everything seems murky.

“The emotion that can break your heart is sometimes the very one that heals it…” Nicholas Sparks

Some days the music lives up to its beats. Some days it doesn’t. Some days one feels like dancing in the rain; other days we crib about the mud and the splatter on the shoes. Some days we live for the thrill of our work, though at times we long for a change of job. The truth is, we all have our own moody days and that’s okay. For working mothers, it is okay to miss a nutritious breakfast and make do with sugary cereal or just milk. Some days it is okay to get the laundry done at the dry-cleaners or just splurge on that expensive massage. Some days it is okay for dads to just hang out at the pub or just go for game night at a friend’s place. Some days it is alright for kids to enjoy a weekday movie and get up early for their homework.

As nature shows through the tenors of the sea or the whine of the tempestuous wind, each element of life can be affected by the sway of the inner mind, circumstances of that moment and the feel within. One may feel happy a minute and melancholy the next couple of hours; but that is okay. Each of us need to experience our moods, listen to them and feel their cry. For only then, one can learn to get back on the balanced footing. It is okay to cry and laugh; scream and sing or stamp and dance.

Being human, emotions are always a part of us. Not letting it control us completely is what is important. Just like how fast they come, they will be gone too. Yet it is through these turn of moods, one discovers the passion of life. Life on an even tone is bland. We need all the stuff that goes to give the special essence of life’s potpourri. And that, my dear readers, is what brings the momentum into our lives and the spring in our steps.

“The sea has its moods. Sometimes it is melancholic and morose, other times fierce and feisty. But always passionate. Even when calm, one can sense the depth of the sea’s passion.” Jocelyn Murray

Moods
by Jack London
Who has not laughed with the skylark,
And bid his heart rejoice?
Laughed till the mirth-loving heavens
Echoed his laughter back?
Joyed in the sheer joy of living,
And sung with gladsome voice,
Lays that were cheerful and merry,
And bid his heart rejoice?
Who has not frowned in the gloaming,
And felt the skies grow black;
While o’er him spread the dark mantle
Of sullen, solemn Gloom,
Whose mutterings broke the silence
Like echoes from the tomb –
Like echoes of lost endeavors –
Reproaches from the tomb?
Who has not cursed in his passion,
As Anger’s stinging lash,
Biting and smarting and racking,
Fell on his naked back?
Felt in his veins feverish tumult,
The strife, the savage clash,
As when hot steel, leaped from the scabbard,
Meets steel with crash on crash?
Who has not wept in his sorrow,
And looked in vain for morn;
Waiting with hopeless yearning,
The sun from out the bourn?
Heard from the world the sad sobbing
Of Faith and Hope forlorn?
Known that the sun had forever
Gone down into the bourn?

Posted in Christian, Daily, Personal Musings

Being “Here”

“Mom, I’m here.”
This loud announcement are the first few words that we often hear, especially on return from that grocery trip (minus kids), a weekend vacation of kids with their grandparents, just coming back home from work or them coming back home. These words carry tons of emotions, thousands of feelings and memories. Just the other day, my elder cousin was saying that with kids at college, she missed hearing those words.

These words “I’m here” often run out of use towards the adult years. While as children, the eagerness to be around those they love runs high. The spontaneity and zest with which they face life, in all her situations, signal how those innocent minds just embrace life. Those words signify their welcome back into their own fold, the reassurance that they are still here and the fact that they want to be back home. As one grows older by years, these words are said more often to indicate a location especially when to reassure the other that one is near.

As per the early accounts in the Scriptures, when Moses saw the burning bush and Lord called out to him, the first words were “Here I am”. Likewise were the similar words said by the prophet Samuel when the Lord said his name. Those words “Here I am” signify their willingness to put aside all their work, tasks of that moment and worries. Then they paid attention and heeded His Words.

“When the Lord saw that he turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” ” (Exodus 3:4)

As the years go by, we often dedicate ourselves to too many things. Some are long desired tasks, some that belong to the requirement of the moment and some that we unnecessarily burden ourselves with. When we say “we’re here”, the mind still runs over the silent cycle of worries, never devoting ourselves wholly to the activities or words of that hour. Many a time, the same is echoed when we seek help. When we read His Word, how many of us actually comprehend and understand His Teachings, than just trying to read them. Many of us often may drift off in the mind and thoughts as we gather in His House or as we pray. Learning from those young minds, let their joyous “I’m here” be echoed through our actions and thoughts as we devote few of our minutes of our days in learning His Word or just simply being in His Presence.

Posted in Food, Stories Around the World

Of “Chai” Times

One of the highlights of the weekdays used to be the fifteen minute “chai session” that used to happen in the break room. As we weren’t allowed to carry over beverages to our desks, the break was a well anticipated event; not only for those who love “chai” but the camaraderie that went along with it. The experience of “chai time” started into the early days of college, where the campus canteen used to be the centre of “chai and biscuits” at any time of the day or evening. With the hot brew comforting each of us, the woes, worries, near-misses and the best highlights as the day ends. Through the years, these sessions had stayed on in the campus life and eventually even into the office.

“Tea time is a chance to slow down, pull back and appreciate our surroundings.” Letitia Baldrige

Delving into the history and tradition of tea, each area and country have their own special styles and customs. Bringing these styles home feels like sharing a . Known as “shai” in Egypt, the widely preferred tea is the black tea. It is prepared as “Koshary tea” wherein the black tea is steeped in boiled water, letting it set for a few minutes, sweetened with cane sugar or flavoured with fresh mint leaves with milk, the latter being by choice. The other variety is the “Saiidi tea” which is prepared by boiling black tea over a strong flame for five minutes or longer. Being extremely bitter, it needs plenty of cane sugar to go along with it.

Coming over to East Frisia, the traditional tea preparation is a special art in itself. A white rock candy sugar, known as “kluntje” is added to an empty cup. Then tea is poured over the Kluntje, with a heavy cream “cloud” added on. Served without a spoon or being stirred, this tea is had un-stirred in three tiers. Initially it tastes predominantly of cream, then the taste of tea with the final sweet taste of kluntje at the bottom of the cup. As the kluntje melts slowly, it allows multiple cups of tea to be sweetened. Stirring the tea would merge all the tiers as one, thereby missing out on the traditional beauty of the tea savouring. Being a guest, less than three cups of tea is being rude tot he host. Once done, the cup has to be placed upside down on the saucer or the spoon in the cup to signal that one is done and satisfied.

The Sahelian region of the Sahara, green gunpowder tea is had with a session of storytelling and heartfelt conversation. The tea is poured into the glasses and back, with a foam building on top of it. Had with plenty of sugar and little milk, the Sahelian tea has the first infusion as bitter as death, the second as flavourful as life (go in between) and the third sweet as love.

“A thoughtful cup of tea brought to your bedside each morning means more to me than the huge bouquet of flowers bought once a year.” Penny Jordan

With the lock-down on and the friendly “chai” sessions out of the equation, sharing tea in a special through video chats makes the circle of friendship fun, endearing and lovely. Besides having plenty of tea customs to choose from, each weekend session of tea, feels like bringing another part of the world home.

Posted in Family and Society, Personal Musings, Quotes, Stories Around the World

Rein in the Fist

Though the holiday mode has started, with travel to tourist places restricted; it is the woods and the farm fields that have occupied most of the spare childhood hours, thus making the work at home option feasible for a few days. Which is why while making my entries in the excel spreadsheet, a sudden clatter of metal and cries of pain forced to make a rush to the pantry where I caught the young one with his hand stuck in the jar of crisps and in the mute howling phase. Like the monkey who trapped his hand in the jar, a couple of minutes he lit off before I could settle the scene and deal with the fiasco.

Reliving those moments over the pre-lunch tea session, the morning incident reminded me of the monkey’s hand which had caught in the jar for the fistful of cookies were too big to come out through the mouth of the jar. Just like the monkey, we adults too grab whatever our fists can hold, resulting in biting more than one can chew and staying stuck in the big jar of “life” getting stuck knee-deep when retreat would have been feasible.

“So the unwanting soul sees what’s hidden,
and the ever-wanting soul sees only what it wants.”
Lao Tzu

Growing up, the stress was often laid on being successful, making something profitable out of life and the ventures that we do. As we mature, one experiences the profits and gains and basks in their glory. Eventually one may lose sight of the more important things in life, realizing that their hold on those things have been lost. Once when one realizes that the really important things in life have been lost, then those material profits and gain become completely worthless.

“He who is not contented with what he has, would not be contented with what he would like to have.” Socrates

Defining when to rein in the profits and close down the run for amassing more, or just to continue on, rests on what one considers important close to their heart. Greed is one of those things that can infiltrate any stage of success silently, grow therein and create complete unrest in a subtle manner, such that one realizes that the profits gained were meaningless in context of the damage wrought.

One should make most out of any venture, trying for it to be a success on all fronts. Yet the highlight is to rein the urge to confine all the glory to one, amass more or just hoard the rewards. By letting go a bit of that fist, one can enjoy a bit of the reward then instead of losing out to a worse predicament later on. Also one could grab less or just a handful and share it out, so that rewards enjoyed around would life a lot more fun, happy and joyful; just enough to fit into each of our fists.

The Greedy Mouse
A greedy mouse saw a basket full of corn. He wanted to eat all of the corn so he made a small hole in the basket. He squeezed in through the hole. He ate a lot of corn until he was full and was very happy. Now he wanted to come out. He tried to come out through the small hole. He could not. His belly was full. He tried again. But it was of no use. The mouse started crying. A rabbit was passing by. It heard the mouse’s cry and asked, “Why are you crying, my friend?” The mouse explained, “I made a small hole and came into the basket to eat the corn. Now I am not able to get out through that hole.”

The rabbit said, “It is because you ate too much. Wait till your belly shrinks.” The rabbit laughed and went away. The mouse fell asleep in the basket. The next morning his belly had shrunk. But he wanted to eat some more corn. He forgot all about getting out of the basket. So he ate the corn and his belly was really big again.After eating, the mouse remembered that he had to escape. But obviously, he could not. So he thought, “Oh! Now I will go out tomorrow.” The cat was the next passerby. He smelt the mouse in the basket. He lifted its lid and ate the mouse.