Busty as a bee

 Bees aren't busty, or at least I've never noticed.  But I understand from the saying and from their general whirring that they seem to be busy. Particularly well endowed? I can't say, but they do seem to be a bit full.  But I digress. This post after almost a year, has nothing to do with bees or busty-ness, but rather with a certain fullness that our schedules seem to have taken on. The busts and the bees come in only because while hastily typing a message to someone the other day to describe my preoccupied state, I rapidly typed "I am so busty" and pressed the send button. Seconds later a beep alerted me to an amused emoticon and the words "Full of yourself, aren't you!" My razor sharp ability to comprehend things even before they have been said made me realize my literally full-of-it mistake.  Most people omit or miss out on things in haste, I obviously add a bit much!

But this has more to do with what my small mistake implies. We've all become much too busy to even check what we're saying. Other than making spelling mistakes, which I take particular offence to, as I have a superiority complex when it comes to my ability to put alphabets in the correct order, I just don't have the mind space to keep up with everything.  I haven't baked in ages, I picked up a book after eight months, I miss most of my choir rehearsals, haven't taken a proper holiday in ages, don't notice Mia shredding my socks joyfully under my nose, don't realize Sid has cracked a joke and is laughing hysterically at his own wit, don't get to socialize with my friends too much as I prefer curling up on the couch when I get the chance and do a general moan about how busy I am.  I know almost everyone is in the same boat as me, as it just seems to be the way things are in general, but it is interesting to see how different people handle it.

While I tear my hair out and snap that "I can't right now", Sid on the other hand is an absolute marvel when it

comes to handling stress or a generally busy period.  He'll be deep in the middle of sorting out his taxes (finance time of the month is generally the time I want to run out of the house screaming) and I will hear the most ridiculous sound coming from his laptop. In fact it sounds suspiciously like an angry bird being launched into the air and hitting some ridiculously green pigs! Further investigation reveals that he is in fact launching birds at pigs! "What? I needed a break!" I look at him in horror, because I would be so tense to finish something, I'd rather keep at it and relax later.  Forty five minutes later, he's ordering an ice cream sundae on the phone. "What? I needed something sweet!"  He had actually completed his taxes and was on to his next bit of work and also on to his next break! An hour and a half later I walk into the next room and catch him in a swirling haze of fur, locked in fierce battle with Mia who is at her frisky best and indulging in a spot of wrestling. I spot them in mid air as they both come crashing down in a rather spectacular slam, merging into a mutant man-a-dog, two heads sprouting from underneath a pillow, paws and large caveman feet intertwined. I must look astonished because ten minutes ago he was deep in the middle of a deadline to send over a client's photographs. Apparently he's done with that and taking a break.  While I'm still banging my head about the hundred things I'm trying to do together, he's done 3 big chunks of time consuming work and looks fresh as a daisy, with a roguish dog pinned under his arm, a smile on his face and the remnants of some chocolate sauce on his cheek (which the dog was now trying to sneakily lick off under the pretence of sudden affection for the brute who had pinned her to the bed).  Other than the inspiration Sid took from an article in the Times of India on how one should take a break every 90 minutes in order to be more efficient (he could have written that article to be honest), I realized how calm he generally remains even when he's got a lot on his plate.

I, on the other hand, rant and rave and snap and snarl and just want to get everything done with rather than thinking about it later. Except as we've all realized that there is no escaping 'later'.  There will always be 1001 things to finish and launching an angry bird or your dog into the air every now and then won't change that. My general rule has always been to do things outside of work like yoga or dance classes or choir or whatever you want; have a healthy work life balance with socializing, holidaying, etc; try not to look at my blackberry after 8 in the evening (I am addicted so this will probably not happen); not take work calls after 8 or on weekends (which I am getting really good at) and so on. Unfortunately, I fell into a panicked stupor over the last 8 months or so where I've neglected much of what I enjoy in the attempt to keep up with work. I've done ok with that, but like I said I've been a bit too involved in it to enjoy everything else I used to. It's not going to be easy not to stress out about things since I'm a natural at it, but I have to start somewhere. So my much delayed post on this blog is my start; my waking up bleary eyed yesterday after reading a book late into previous night was worth it, and I am going to use my oven after 4 months tomorrow. Also, I'm sure if I walk into the next room right now, I'll be in time to participate in a rather furious wrestling match between man and dog and emerge as a part of magnificent three-headed creature! There's always time for that!

The Novice Housewife on Reemspeak

Though Sid would like to believe that this blog revolves around him and there is little that I add to it beyond anecdotes involving him, I do from time to time slip in posts about people or things that I find interesting.  It's always fascinating to see what sorts of things people are passionate about - I don't mean as a professional job necessarily, though it's definitely a plus if your work is your passion. I always say that if you're not passionate about anything in life (and believe me there are plenty of people who aren't!), if you have nothing that fuels you, that excites you, that one thing that when you think of it just brings you such exhilaration and peace...without that life is just a rather mundane series of events.

Cinnamon rolls

I posted some time ago about a friend who left her  cushy  corporate job to make a difference with her commitment to buying 'green and good'.  This time I am posting about another friend whose passion for preparing beautiful food caught my attention when I noticed her stunning blog. Shumaila was one  of my fellow hostelers and at the time we spent our evenings laughing about our day or predicting our futures with a handy little book called 'The Oracle' :)  At the time, the Oracle didn't reveal a charming blog that Shumaila would nurture over the years, starting out as a way to pass the time by recording her efforts in the kitchen when she got married; to developing into a visually inspiring, mouth-watering documentation of her culinary skills. It may not be a paying job, but you can tell that she pours all her efforts into it - she cooks and bakes; adds some anecdotes or facts to each post, composes beautiful photographs to capture the dishes, networks with other food bloggers and participates in various virtual cook-off's and challenges herself with various ways of just making her blog more than just a 'cook-and-post' series.  With a growing number of followers and fans...I thought I would ask her a few questions. With a rather misleading title, this Novice Housewife, is far from a novice in her blog!

What prompted you to start a blog?

In one word- boredom.

Caramelized onion, mushroom & gruyere tartlets

After getting married and moving to a completely new place (on a different continent)- no friends, no job (and no chance of getting one) and left for hours to do nothing in a small mining town, I needed an outlet. I felt very unproductive and I needed something to change that. I also have a very busy mind- and thought rather than talking to myself, its better I pen the thoughts down somewhere.

I started the blog on July 28, 2010 as a place to document my newly married life and a place to store the recipes I was trying, and of course as a way to keep myself busy. For the first five months only 6 people knew that the blog existed- my mom, four of my friends and my husband. I was too shy to let others know about it. I have never considered myself a writer nor had I ever cooked before getting married, so I did not have too much confidence in the blog being of any interest to others. Gradually, thanks to the encouragement I got from the six people who knew about my blog, I got confident and started sharing.

Earlier I used to write to document, then came a time when I was confused, when the blog started becoming a little popular. Were people really interested in my “exciting” housewife life?  But I figured, I am writing for myself. If someone wants to read my story they can read it else they can just look at the photo and go straight to the recipe. I think it works for the readers, and me, because when you stop trying to do things the way someone else likes it, you actually tend to do it better (especially when it comes to writing).

Has cooking always been a passion? Or is it something you developed after getting married or rather as a challenge to yourself so that you could keep the blog going?

Whole wheat garlic pull-apart bread

I loved baking from the start. My mom baked a lot and she was pretty good at it. I never helped her though; unless you count eating and appreciating as helping- in that case, I helped her a lot. But I grew up with the smell of freshly baked goods and always loved good food, something that I get from my dad. Two years before my marriage, I realized my passion for baking was more intense and wanted to start something of my own (even though I had no experience nor had I shown any interest in actually baking before that!). My friend and I worked on it but guess God had other plans and I got married and the plan took a backseat (for the time being).

Then, I moved to US, to a small mining town, with nothing more than the mine and a big grocery shop, a pizza place, a motel and a chinese place.

My thing with cooking (I still won’t call it love- baking is my true love) was actually born more out of a necessity than any passion. The place where we stay has just 3 restaurants, out of which one always gives me food poisoning and the other is limited on the vegetarian and chicken options (my husband’s preferences), actually that goes for the third restaurant as well. None of them serve my three favorite cuisines- Italian, thai and indian. So if I wanted to have something nice, I had to make it. No to-gos or ordering in options. No Indian spice grocery store either. The nearest being a four-hour drive away. So I had to cook my way out. The blog fuels the need to cook too- it pushes me to keep trying and experimenting- so that I have something different to post about.

You update your blog so regularly. Tell me the process behind planning each post. Do you just wake up in the morning and decide that you'll cook something. It definitely feels like there's a lot of planning!

Grilled zucchini & potato pizza slices

Earlier, I would put everything and anything that I made in my kitchen on the blog. That was during the first few months of starting my blog, when my readers were only people I knew. But, as the blog grew popular and I realized people were actually trying out my recipes, I felt a little more responsible for what recipes get on the site. Now, the blog has become more of a place to store my favorite recipes. For that reason, I generally don’t publish a post regarding a new recipe on the same day I try it. I photograph everything I make though, and what turns out nice is drafted and put on the blog.

As for coming up with what to make- well, I day dream a lot, and a lot of my day dreams revolve around food- could be something I had at a restaurant, or something I had when I was in India or something I saw on somebody’s blog, or something that just came to my mind. So I carry my iPhone everywhere I go. Anything that happens to me or anything that comes across my mind, I use my iPhone notes to write it down. Since I have a lot of thoughts (like seriously lots) I pen them down too. Every good thing I eat and would like to replicate it’s there in my notes. Any moment that sparks a food memory, I write. And then when I am in the mood, I make what I had thought about. I do try to plan a menu every week, but never follow it. Since cooking for me quite often reflects the mood I am in, plans generally don’t stick. I keep bookmarking stuff I see (pinterest has been a godsend), and then when I feel like making something new, I check my pins, or my ever-increasing pile of cookbooks or my iPhone notes and tally it with what I have in the refrigerator, and make something.

Chicken stew and appams

When I am low, I bake. Baking has always been therapeutic, probably because it reminds me of my mom, or probably because the whole house fills up with the smell of vanilla-ey freshly baked goodness.

Over time I have developed a routine for the blog, so that I stick to posting things, since I can get lazy about posting. I started a Garam Masala Tuesdays series where I take an Indian dish and try to explain its history or any other snippet related to it. I also try to explain the steps of making it the best way I can. I avoid as much as I can to post about a recipe on this post the day I try it for the first time, so there is some planning involved in it. But generally since I cook a lot there are always 2-3 recipes to choose from for my post.

Then there are things I have joined for which I need to post something every month- like the Secret Recipe Club, or the Daring Bakers’ Challenge and the Monthly recipe Swap.

So, in a way yes there is some planning to it, since for a lot of things there is a schedule to stick, but since it’s your blog, you can be as flexible as you like.

You're a well-networked blog. You keep a track of other food bloggers, take part in baking/recipe challenges etc - how do you manage to keep track or how do you go about it?

Dutch crunch bread

As far as networking goes, I’m the worst, especially since the past few months, I have been trying to do an internet detox thing, where I try not to spend too much time online. But doing a technology detox is very difficult while you are running a blog. Networking surely helps in increasing your blog’s presence. I have got to know about really good bloggers, just because those bloggers commented on my blog. You have to take time out for it, and once you do you just get swept away by the creativity and wonderful recipes floating around the Internet that it doesn’t seem so difficult to spend hours on people’s sites. Following a blog you like on Facebook or twitter helps in keeping track of what others are cooking.

As for keeping up with baking/ recipe challenges, it can be difficult as sometimes you have other things planned but you can’t do that because of being committed to a particular group event. But one learns so much from these things- for example thanks to the Daring Bakers I have learnt about Dutch crunch bread (I had not even heard of it before), then there was the Battenberg cake we made recently, something I was dying to try and might not have been pushed to make, had it not been for the Daring Bakers.

Thankfully these events are all evenly spaced and give you enough time to complete a challenge. I have always been a procrastinator; so managing the blog has helped to actually improve that habit of mine, because I have learned the hard way that waiting for the last minute to do something can be really taxing when it comes to blogging.

Other than the amazing sounding recipes on your blog, what makes it a real treat to follow are the beautiful photographs. The blog seems to indulge another passion - photography?

Everybody knows that you eat with your eyes first.

Carrot cake with cream cheese frosting

I was always the one amongst my friends to carry a camera all the time. I loved capturing moments spent with my friends and family. My love for food photography only came after I started blogging.

During the initial one and half years of blogging, I used a point and shoot camera, and would photograph at any time of the day. There were a lot of poorly lit photographs. I wouldn’t even bother with composing much. So those photographs were all poorly composed too. As I grew into the blog and learnt a whole new world of food blogs, I got impressed by the talent all these bloggers had and their photographs would have me drooling. I would also look at the photographs on FoodGawker and TasteSpotting (2 very popular food porn sites) and all that inspired me to improve my photography. I started giving more thought to the composition, started shooting during the day- and make use of natural light. I would submit my photos to the above-mentioned sites, only to get rejected. But the rejection is what made me want to improve. I know photography is very subjective- what appeals to you might not appeal to me, but the approval of these sites became a measure on which I improved my photography. Slowly, my photos started getting accepted, and along the way I learnt I really enjoyed the whole process- of composing a shot, choosing props that would make the food pop, the angle and playing with the light. This article by Six Bittersweets helped a lot. I also saved up enough to buy a DSLR and learning that became a new hobby.

Food photography has now become a passion and I mainly use the camera for that, and now and then capture people’s faces, their emotions. I love being behind the camera, not in front of it. If someone takes my close up I am ready to scream bloody murder.

 

Can you describe the time involved - planning what to make, then photographing and accessorizing during the cooking process and then once you have made the dish, photographing the finished product, editing the pictures and posting everything. And of course finding the time to eat in between.

Channa masala

It takes time and effort both. You really need to have a passion for all of it. Sometimes (actually a lot many times) I get frustrated and have had my share of meltdowns. Sometimes a dish takes longer to make only because I have to photograph each step. And since I always use natural light, finding it in my kitchen isn’t always easy, and I have to shift the setup somewhere else. Having a strong dislike for cleaning dishes doesn’t help either. Most of the times, the props used to serve food for the blog are different from the ones used for cooking the dish, and that means additional utensils getting dirty. If not for the blog, I would definitely be serving food in the pot that it is cooked in, but using that for the blog might not be its most flattering shot.

So, if it takes 20 minutes to make a particular dish, taking photographs, getting the props ready and getting the necessary stuff for the shot set up might take an hour. Its not always like that but generally yes, you end up spending double the time. And that can be a little too much effort, especially when you have been up since 5am to go for your run and then on your feet to dust, vacuum and mop the whole house yourself. Its difficult not to have the thought cross your mind that had it not been for the blog, I would have been free much earlier with all my work. But then again, if it hadn’t been for the blog I would have felt completely unproductive and would not have learnt so much about myself along the way.

Crepes with lemon curd

Earlier I would post process a lot. With a point and shoot, you don’t have a lot of control with how you want your pictures to look, plus it took me time to understand photography. So even post processing took time. But as I am getting better at the whole photography thing (there’s still a lot to learn), the time I spend on post processing has reduced significantly- Lightroom and its auto feature helps a lot. I still have no clue how to use photoshop. The tools I use are lightroom to fix the white balance sometimes and adjust the contrast. And I use Picasa mostly to sharpen the photo. Sometimes I use Picasa’s cross process, because I like the effect it gives a photograph. I have recently found a love for the spot black & white feature that picasa has.

Chocolate ice cream

As for eating, I am lucky to have a supportive husband, who waits for me to take my shots even though he has only a half an hour lunch break and has to rush back to his office. He has also been more than happy to be a hand model for my blog (that way I don’t have to show my not so manicured hands to everyone).

Do you know how many people follow your blog? You now also have a Facebook page. Do you plan for this to evolve into something much bigger? Like a stepping stone to what Masterchef calls your 'food dream'? Do you have plans of taking it offline into your own restaurant or cooking classes or something along those lines?

As I mentioned earlier, before I got married my friend and I wanted to open a café style bakery. My friend is great at designing clothes and I had a passion for baking (although I had never actually baked too much before this realization!). So we thought to get together and open this cafe cum boutique. Although we had no experience we felt that the idea would work and we would be able to make it work. But we got a lot of resistance from our families, especially since we were at that age where the only word out of your parents is marriage. Anyway somehow the plan fell even before we got started. I feel the reason it didn’t work was because I lacked confidence in myself. The dream to open something of my own is still there and the blog has helped me to explore that possibility. I keep noting down café menu ideas, décor etc. And I day dream about it a lot! So, yes someday, taking this offline is the plan. Look out for me!

What do you enjoy cooking the most? And who's your biggest fan?

Can I rephrase the question? I am more of a baking person and I love baking- be it breads, cake, muffins. If I have to choose cooking- then I love making dal ka parantha because it’s such a great way to use leftovers and it just reminds me of summer holidays at my grandparents and the time I was staying with them working out my business plan with my friend.

Apple pie tartlets

My biggest fan has to be one of my best friends, Bhinee. She reads all my posts, actually waits for them and has tried a lot of my recipes too, giving me feedback for each.  And since, my husband asked me to say so he too is one of my biggest fans! Well, jokes aside, he is definitely a big support for my blog, as I test all my recipes on him. He likes them all. Even when I might not like something, he eats everything I make and enjoys it to the fullest, or so he says. That’s why I never trust his opinion because how can someone like everything you make. And believe me I have served him some pretty nasty stuff and he has never once said ‘I did not like that’. That, in fact, is quite encouraging and thanks to him, I can experiment freely. Plus, he never has once raised an eyebrow when I order a new cookbook, even though I have plenty lying on the bookshelf eating dust!

Any major recipe disasters?

5 minute Nutella mug cake

Lots! I love to experiment and that’s when most of my screw-ups happen. I try to be innovative and creative, like those on Masterchef and well it doesn’t always work for me. That’s why I will NEVER try for Masterchef. Also, people looking at me cook, makes me too conscious and I screw up.

I have blogged about my failures here and here and here. A lot of disasters also happen when I try to make a recipe healthier, making all kinds of substitutions and well, they don’t turn up great. I do try my best to somehow save a failed recipe though, since I hate wastage and throwing any kind of food out. But, yes I have had my share of failures. 

The sisterhood of the travelling hens

Sid watching us leave from upstairs!

"Bubz, what's with this silly hen weekend and why can't I come?" asked a peevish Sid.  I looked up from the pile of clothes on my lap and laughed, "Why do we have to go through this each time I go for one of these? It's not like they come around very often".  He twirled Mia's tail around his finger and muttered, "Well, I don't get it. Not like you do anything exciting! It's just a holiday and I'm not allowed to come on it. And I know everyone, this is silly!"  Mia, who was tired of Sid's tail twirling had set out for greener pastures - my suitcase. I sighed as I extracted a sock from her mouth, "Why do you guys go on stag nights or why do you take off with all your brothers and cousins for all-boy weekends?" He humph-ed and said, "Well that's different. Stag nights have existed since the start of time. Men gathering around the fire getting drunk on home-made hooch, while a lissome lass in cheetah-print fur writhes around dancing and the men cheer like wild animals!" I rolled my eyes at him, "Where'd you get that from? A special on Nat Geo on the history of male bonding? Or is it something from the Flintstones?" Mia wheezed out a hairball, the sound remarkably like a sudden burst of laughter, which caused Sid to look at both of us distastefully and mutter something that sounded like, "Well Fred and Barney may have had something to do with it!"

"Anyhow, so hen weekends/parties are also traditional. Why the fuss?" It was his turn to roll his eyes, "Oh please, hen parties are just a reaction by you women to a stag party. Since you can't bear not being included in a boy's night, you just had to copy us!"  I continued folding clothes and putting them in my suitcase, "I can't profess to having done as much research on the origin of hen do's as you have done on pre-historic stag parties, but so what if we wanted something for ourselves? It's fun, we bond, we drink, we eat, we dress up, we party and basically have a good time. What's the problem?"  He humph-ed and haw-ed and poked at my clothes, muttering something about "plunging necklines and girls nowadays being out of control and if he had his way, women would be locked up by 10"!  I smiled and patted him on the head, "Don't worry bubz, I'll get you presents and a Burger King Double Whopper from the airport, ok?"  The change in him was remarkable, the frown was replaced by a dazzling smile, I was given a hug ("Make it two burgers bubz!), and Mia was helpfully thrown out of my suitcase after pulling my underwear bag from her mouth. Research was started immediately on hotels, restaurants, exchange rates and where I could buy him presents.

I smile as I recollect Sid's similar reaction each time I've gone away on one of these weekends. My friends - Prerana, Shagun and I have managed to maintain tradition and take off somewhere before each of us have got married.  Extensive planning precedes each weekend, the "topography" (as Prerana likes to know the "topography" of each place we visit) is discussed and each one is meant to be in a different location, helping to make each trip distinct and special for the bride-to-be. And it definitely has been, even though Shagun, will beg to differ since she felt she got the worst deal!  Just before we recently went international, and visited Hong Kong for Prerana's hen weekend, Shagun was discussing with someone she knew about where we had gone for each of our hen do's.  Her friend nodded appreciatively when she told them that Goa was our destination of choice for my hen weekend, but politely screwed up their nose when she mentioned where we went for her's. "Kasauli! Thoda boring nahin hai?!"  And though Shagun will continue to scream to the high heavens that her's was the worst, she knows that we've had a blast wherever we went. Our hen weekend's have little to do with a bar and drinking and screaming girls in wigs and boas and well oiled male strippers,  but more to do with screaming girls, drinking and just pure unadulterated female bonding. You don't need a hen weekend to do it, but every girl needs to do it every now and then!

There's always the element of unexpectedness since we may plan the destination, but with the most surprising results. So Goa may have been about choosing a chilled out, beachy holiday just before I got married. What did ensue was lots of rain (we did choose the monsoon since it's a really pretty time to go), Shagun wondering what the fuss about Goa was with all the rain; Shagun shocked that Prerana would even suggest going around on bikes in the rain, Shagun comfortably sprawled out at the back of an 800 that we hired instead of the bikes; Prerana racing us (in said 800!) to some casino boat (the Caravela) that an old contact of her's had invited us on and then realizing that we were completely inappropriately dressed for a casino boat-full of middle aged pot bellied men, swilling whisky, eating papad and peanuts and listening to ghazals! They probably thought we were the after-dinner entertainment! After being stuck on the boat for over an hour waiting to be ferried back to land, we bided our time at the slot machines, laughing hysterically over the daal makhni and pindi chole, taking advantage of the whisky and keeping a straight face when Shagun bumped into her doctor from Delhi, who was then ferried back to land with us!  Much more driving happened in the good ol' 800, a certain scooterist got knocked by said 800 and wobbled dangerously while Prerana shrieked "Did I do that? Did I bang into him?"; Me making everyone pose in ridiculous Titanic style and trying to convince Shagun that monsoon Goa is the only Goa! It was definitely a great start to our hen weekend tradition!

When it was time for Shagun to get married, we decided to go with a different "topography" and choose the hills (also Prerana being in the media meant she was married to her job with no time off!) and settled on Kasauli, close enough, quaint and intimate.  Shagun may not admit it, but she's the only one who got some concentrated "hen planning" with matching t-shirts made for all of us to wear on the trip.  Never mind that we stayed at the Air Force mess and ate daal and bhindi for a majority of the trip and that our sightseeing comprised of an old church and "Manki Point" with no monkeys. It was the Himachali wine that was what the trip was truly about. No hen weekend would be complete without it, we even considered taking some to Hong Kong for Prerana's trip this year!  It's pleasing to the palatte and sneaks up on you after about a bottle each. I must say the neighbouring Air Marshal and his wife in the adjoining cottage who were in Kasauli for a quiet weekend of bridge and other respectable activities, were very sporting of the hysterical women next door discussing all that must be discussed at hen weekends! Two nights went by in a pleasantly drunken haze with some rather disturbing phone calls to Shagun's soon-to-be husband, Saurabh, and I still find it surprising that he welcomes Prerana and me into their home!

There was never any real intention of doing a hen weekend for each of us, but with time our committment to them was admirable. With each of us in 3 different countries and a very pregnant Shagun, we surprised ourselves with managing to pull off the last of the official hen's and it was as all the others were, very well worth it.  The alcohol was never potent enough; Prerana tripped repeatedly, the last surprised stumble was rather spectacular on the doorstep of what we thought might be a fun burlesque show, but was more of a bored strip club; we ate far too much, laughed even more and as tradition dictated - I once again was made to sleep in the middle ("but we thought you liked it" said the other surprised hens!)  What we realized of course, is that these holidays have very little to do with celebrating impending marriages or bidding farewell to single-dom, but simply getting away from it all and having a good time with the girls.  So unless we decide to get married again (Sid might just want this to happen in a last time effort to be a part of another hen weekend!), the last of the hen's is over. But since it was never really about any of that stuff, we now look forward to the next holiday of female craziness - family sizes may increase, we may get more distance between us geographically, priorities will change, but just as we never expected to stick to the tradition of hen weekends, I think we'll surprise ourselves. After all, the topography will bring us together!

What's the big 'deal'?

"Bubz, I come bearing gifts for Mia", declared a beaming Sid when I opened the door.  I ushered him through the front door, helping him fight off the whirlwind of fur that was hurling herself repeatedly at him.  A hurried emptying out of the contents of a brown Windsor Pet Shop bag revealed a ball on a string, some bacon chewies and a tasseled contraption that caused the whirling dervish to now resemble a calmer, yet still excited, brown eyed and bushy tailed dog.  Mia immediately sat on all her gifts, staking her claim over all that lay there including the bag, and licked everything slimily for good measure.  Sid beamed approvingly at her, "That's my girl, daddy brings you the best gifts...that's me the best gifter in the whole wide world"!  He looked at me and patted me on the head, "And for you bubz, it may not be bacon chewies but we're off to the English Dhaba for dinner!"  My disappointment was obviously apparent so he mollified me with a quick, "It's meant to be good. Someone gave me these discount vouchers and we should definitely try it".  Me being quick to judge a book by its cover was not easily convinced, "I am not going to any English Dhaba...sounds ridiculous.  Probably one of those multi-cuisine specialty places with Continental, Chinese, North and South Indian and momos thrown in for good measure."  Sid looked at me like I was crazy, "Who cares whether it's dahi kebabs and american chopsuey...two words, 'I have vouchers'. Oh wait, that's three words, let's make it "I've vouchers', that's two isn't it?"  I'm a big fan of his bald head but sometimes I wished he had some hair so that I could pull it and hurl him around the room a bit.  He sensed the tension and said, "Come on, my barber's friend's uncle owns it and said we can come anytime and eat there at a great price". Ever since I've known Sid I've called him "jugaadu", since he always knows someone somewhere who can do something and help us get a deal, a discount, a something or the other.  It's not unusual of course, in fact most people in India are fairly good at it especially if you've always been good at maintaining relationships and networking. I, on the other hand, just find it too much of an effort to ask for anything, not to mention that I'm completely crushed if the person refuses, but that's simply because I've never had the thick skin for it or the patience.

When we first started dating, Siddharth would take me for a movie and once we arrived at wherever we needed to be, he would head towards McDonalds.  Thinking he needed a quick snack I would follow obediently and then watch absolutely puzzled while Siddharth would go up to the counter and ask for a 'Sanjay' or 'Bunty' or 'Micky' or whoever.  He would then wait patiently until they came and have a quick word, be handed two tickets, thank Sanjay-Bunty-Micky and then walk back towards me.  I would ask if he knew the guy and he'd say "Nope, first time I saw him, but my friend is the manager here. I hate waiting in line to get movie tickets so I always call McDonalds and ask my friend to get one of the guys there to get tickets for me and I'd pick them up when I got there. Just saves time".  I still thought it was a bit of an effort, but who was I to argue with his tried and tested methods. Since we still had time to kill before the movie, we headed to the pub next door.  We would order whatever and when the bill came after it would be some ridiculously low amount, which I would puzzle over, making me wonder if that second drink had happened at all!  If I had observed closely, while we chatted Sid would always be waving out to to one of the waiters, or shaking hands with another and generally seemed to be on good terms with everyone...which is anyhow what he's good at...being the cheerful cheerio that he is.  Further questioning would reveal that he knew the manager here as well and since he came her often to catch a drink he always got a good deal.  And so it carries on over the years, 'Bubz, we're off to the back of beyond.  There's a cottage in the boondocks that I'm getting for free...friend of a friend".  "Bubz, new TV...friend knows the distributor, etc".  "Bubz, we could get upgraded to first class...we just have to recite a silly poem and not look at any of the co-passengers in the eye. It's worth the trouble".  There are times I've waited outside a packed pub and given up on ever being able to get a table, when all of a sudden someone will come running at me..."I'm Siddharth's friend. He called me saying you were waiting outside, come in".  I'd definitely be grateful for the table, but then wish that Siddharth hadn't made the effort when the friend would make me order an evening load of drinks within two minutes since happy hour was ending and he wouldn't want us to have to pay full price.  The pressure was immense, I ordered all the wrong drinks and told Siddharth that next time I'd rather just wait!

But then again what's life without a good deal and doing someone a favour.  Sid in turn helps whoever he can in whatever way he can. He views his jugaadu-ness as his gift to whoever he can offer it to.  "Sure, I can help you get a phone connection this evening. My friend's shop".  "Great offer on this hotel...yeah, dinner there and I'll get them to charge you just for the drinks and get you a discount on the food...oh yes, a round of golf for free here, I know the caddy, etc etc."  I found it extremely strange in the beginning but I'm so used to it now.  I think he finds it less challenging to just try to do something in the boring, straightforward way...the challenge of calling 10 people and the satisfaction of helping someone through these efforts gives him great pleasure. As I watched Mia looking dangerously close to getting lock-jaw as she crammed the tasseled contraption, the ball on the string and attempted to also pick up the packet of chewies, I asked him if he had got a deal on her stuff.  He looked at me in shock, "Never! For Mia, no freebies. Whatever is asked for, I will give. Nothing but the best for my girl".  It was my turn to look shocked, he hadn't even tried to find out if he knew someone. I looked at him questioningly, "Ok all right, there was an offer on the chewies.  A free bowl, but see it's red! She'll love it.  And a friend of a friend knows the manager, told me he'll get a great deal the next time we go".  And there we go...all was normal again :)

Living in the golden era

"Bubz, we're disappointed in you", declared a somber Sid, with Mia in tow. She doesn't do somber, though Sid was trying to take advantage of her perpetual knitted-brow curious look that he hoped would add to the gravity of this situation.  I was unfazed.  I know these two well. "You're not allowed disappointment. But, since I'm in a generous mood, I will indulge you and discuss this hypothetical disappointment", I said.  He knew when to take advantage of my generosity and blurted it out. The pent-up disappointment hurtling out of his mouth like those speedy yellow Angry Birds, gaining momentum as they sped towards me - the selfish little green pig.  "Not a word has been typed about me in the last couple of months.  No blogs. You're slacking off. What am I to tell people? I have fans you know".  I stared at him in disbelief, "Excuse me. What does my writing my blog have to do with you? I will write when and if I want to. That's the beauty of a blog, you're not tied down by anyone else's demands, it's all up to me! And what fans?"

He seemed a bit taken aback by this "revelation".  Realizing his fame relied on my mood to dabble in some writing, he swiftly changed tactics. "There there my love, stay calm. Of course, it's up to you.  It's just that you haven't in a while, I thought I'd help you. I've heard about the "artistic temperament", I wouldn't want to upset you".  He looked at Mia, who was bored in the first two seconds of the conversation and had used the opportunity to snatch a pile of folded underwear and scatter it around.  He poked her in the ribs and she looked up when he whispered, "Go on. Give your mum a kiss, get her in a good mood so she'll write about daddy".  Mia, ever the obedient dog, sauntered over with a pair of Sid's boxers which she dropped at my feet (they were his 'Charm my snake" pair!) and licked my shin.  "Thank you my darling boochums, but I don't need to be cheered up. I'm just feeling very uninspired and lazy.  And I do not have an artistic temperament - I'm not Picasso or Hemingway or someone who has the right to indulge in all of that.  I just wish I was surrounded by unending excitement and activity and well I sometimes wish I lived in the 60s or 70s...felt like more inspiring decades."  Mia thought my explanation long winded and tootled off to unsettle another room in the house.  Sid looked at me, "You mean I don't inspire you anymore?".  He looked genuinely shocked.  "That's a load of rubbish.  And don't go all 'Midnight in Paris' on me, even Owen Wilson, who thought the 20s was the golden era realizes once he hobnobs with the Steins and Picassos and Hemingways and whoever's, that everyone feels the same way.  The grass always seems greener on the other side...till you're on the other side".  I was genuinely shocked, the fact that Siddharth would have even tried to watch 'Midnight in Paris' was surprising.  Before I could comment, he quickly clarified, "No, of course I didn't watch it. Karen told me you both saw it and gave me a quick summary...she hated it and I agree, sounds ridiculous".  I voiced my protest, "Hey, I liked it".  "Can we please focus on me...I'm the one being affected by this lack of virtual visibility.  And I did have a fan write to me and say he misses hearing about me". "Oh don't be silly, Jaipreet doesn't represent your large fan base. You meet him all the time, he doesn't need a virtual you"!

"Fine, I'm not saying that Jaipreet and my anonymous fan are one and the same..." "But I am", I chipped in.  He ignored me and continued, "You can't actually blame a lack of inspiration on this.  I've even shaved my head. You can do a whole Bald and the Beautiful series on Mia and me...everyone is just always looking for a better time, a better place, a better moment, a better person. People don't realize that it's all in the now.  Let me ask you something, am I the type of guy you thought you'd end up with"  A rather loaded question and smelt of a definite trap!  "Oh don't think so much...of course I'm not", think back to all the crushes you've had or who you wanted to be with when you were a little girl.

I cast my mind back to my earliest memorable crush, a character of this children's show - Jimmy from H.R Pufnstuf - this yellow shirted singing dancing phenomenon with a page boy hair cut.  Then I thought about when my friend, Partha, and I decided at the age of 7 or 8 that we would change our names to Charles and Barbara and get married when we were older, or maybe it was get married first and then get our name changes...either way Charles and Barbara was the more important part.  There were various others - but all through this I always imagined myself with a tortured brooding artist sort - passionate, venemous, powerful and a relationship filled with ummm...well constant change, dynamism, excitement.  Sid shook his head..."It's all the movies bubz...all a fantasy.  All relationships are the same...they all settle down. Unless you're with this brooding artist type who sounds like he'll be a complete idiot.  Mia and I are your golden era".

My first crush, Jimmy from H.R Pufnstuf

As I looked at his gleaming pate, I realized Sid was having one of his rare moments of true insight.  You expect him to say something stupid like "Look, my head has no bumps, it's beautiful" and instead out comes these pearls of wisdom.  My muse was lit up with intellectual radiance! "Bubz, you find humour in our ordinariness, that's what you do. It's always been in the now...I'm your golden boy.  Celebrate me"! he struck a pose and I exclaimed, "You're quite right. I'm so stupid. There's so much around me...in fact I don't know why I'm restricting myself to you.  It's all out there...I'm living in the golden era".  Sid looked alarmed, "Out there...no no bubz right here.  It's me, me you have to write about, and maybe a bit about this mutt, but really just me is quite enough".  But I was off, pen in hand and scribbling notes, while he tried desperately to look over my shoulder.  "Bubz bubz, don't disappoint the fans...Mia, Mia come here, distract her...no no stop stealing more underwear"!  I patted him on his shiny head, "Thanks m'love.  You've opened my eyes...you're golden"!  He signed and walked away muttering, "I should have lived in the olden days...when wives worshiped their husbands".  I called after him, "None of that talk...here and now remember, here and now".

Sid's secret behaviour

"Bubz, I have to talk to you", said Sid while I was rushing around the house looking for my shoes. "Later, later, I'm busy" my voice echoed from under the bed, trying to wriggle my arm as far under as possible. "It can't wait" he said. "Well hang on let me find these shoes", I replied, throwing myself into a messy pile of bags in the corner of our bedroom.  "NOW", bellowed Sid. My shock manifested itself in a bag flying across the room, a pair of shoes falling out - the wrong ones.  "What's the yelling for?", I asked, hurt (literally, I banged my wrist while diving into the bags).  "I have reason to believe that you are not being faithful", he said in an alarmingly high pitched squawk. I think he was going for a mix between haughty and irate. I was stung and if it wasn't for the squawk, I might have been irate as well, but I was actually mildly amused.  "What is wrong with you? What reason? Who said? Why unfaithful?" He pounced on my slew of questions like Mia at an unsuspecting bunch of sparrows.  "Aha! So you admit. You're deflecting by answering my questions with more questions. You think it will distract me? It will not"!

"It won't"
"Absolutely not, I'm on to you"
"Are you?"
"100 percent, I have proof"
"What proof?"
"I will reveal that at the right time"
"Which isn't now?"
"It will be shortly"
"Will it?"
"Yes, it will"
"Should I wait? Let me know when it'll be"
"I will".
"You've lost track haven't you"?
"Damn you woman and your stupid questions, I knew you'd make me forget"!

"My unfaithfulness", I said helpfully. "Yes, yes that. I overheard you talking to someone in the bedroom.". I was genuinely shocked. "Who? When?" "There shall be no more questions, missy. I'll do the questioning. Only those who have been wronged have that right"! I slapped him on the wrist, "Oh shut up, what wrong and right. What in the world are you talking about?"  He decided to shed some more light on this supposedly murky issue. "I heard you talking to someone on the phone.  I just caught a few words. Who have you been in "compromising positions" with? "Cheating" on me with some young lad I'm sure! And even something about baby names! You disgust me. In our own house. In our bedroom"!

I was completely stunned and confused. "When did you hear all this? I have no idea what you're talking about. Did you drink my cold medicine again. I know you do because it tastes like candy floss. It's making you hallucinate.  He raised his hand to silence me, "I was of completely sound mind and body when I passed by our room door this morning".  "This morning?", I cast my mind back to the morning, racking my brains about who I could have been talking to on the phone about "compromising positions", etc.  The words seemed to ring a faint bell. And then it dawned on me. "Reading the newspaper". I said. "Rather an odd time to want to read anything. I'm in the middle of questioning you"! I shushed him with my hands, "No, not now. In the morning. I was reading the paper. Some article about the cops catching couples in the park in "compromising positions", and then an article on some high tech "cheating" in the AIIMS exam and then something about Beyonce's "baby name" being based on numerology. Blue Ivy Carter, that's the name"  It was his turn to look stunned. "A likely story", he stuttered. "Not at all. Read the Delhi Times, that's what it says, Blue Ivy Carter".  He glared at me and I laughed, "Oh for god's sake. How you could imagine, I would cheat on you is beyond me. Anyhow, I only call my boyfriend on Tuesdays from the bathroom or when you're playing golf."  He didn't approve and looked distastefully at me.  "Why were you reading the newspaper aloud?"  I felt embarrassed, but I had to clarify.   "I just like reading aloud". "You what?", he asked.

Ok, so like most normal people, I do have secret behaviour that I generally only display when I think I'm alone. It may sometimes come out unknowingly, like this morning.  "I forgot you were home. I've always enjoyed reading aloud. It just makes more sense, the words just come alive. And I like the sound of my "reading voice".  He looked puzzled, "Your what?"  "My reading voice", I repeated, "I even do different accents or sometimes read like a newsreader, it's great fun. Not to mention, I am very good at it!"  He burst out laughing, "You freak! Who does that?"  I shrugged off his insensitive chuckling, "Well I do. Lots of people do silly things when they're alone. I read aloud. I also talk to myself when stressed or sometimes into the mirror.  I dance in front of the mirror and sometimes I talk like I'm on a cook show when I'm cooking".  "Freak", he repeated. "Oh please, i'm sure you have secret behaviour. Everyone does. Even after getting married, it's something that you always have to remind you of yourself, before you were part of a pair of a larger whole. It's just something unique to you.  It's very liberating really".  He shrugged, "No point trying to make it sound smarter than it is. You're still a freak".  I was bored by now and quite irritated, plus I hadn't found my shoes. "No less freakish then when you dance like you're having a spasm in front of Mia. Or when you whip out your imaginary gun and hum the James Bond tune. Or that you hide certain whisky bottles in a separate cupboard and don't share them with anyone. Drinking them when I'm out of the house.  And let us not forget eating food off the floor, when you think I'm not looking"!  He looked flustered, "How did you..?What the...? When did you see all this?"

I pulled one of my shoes out from under Mia's bottom, her usual place to hide secret stash, she just sits on it.  She of course looked surprised at how that could have ended up in her lodgings!  "I'm always looking", I said, directing it at both dog and man.  "Not really secret behaviour now is it?  Pot calling the kettle black".  He looked uncomfortable, "Oh I just...you know...sometimes...for fun...you won't tell anyone bubz?"  I smiled while I pulled out the other shoe from under Mia's mattress.  I brought it up to my mouth, blew the dust off and aimed it at him, striking a pose, "I'll think about it. Ta ran ta raaa ta ra raaaa. Taa ra ra, ta raa raa". He wasn't amused, "That is not what James Bond does!"  I lowered my shoe and strolled out, "Fine, I'll watch you more closely from behind the door next time".  He came running after me, "Don't tell anyone please.  If this reaches my secret girlfriend she won't be impressed.  Bubz, bubz, are you listening to me?"

Sid and his soul mate

"Bubz, I think I feel this deep affinity with Mia. She really gets me here...", said Sid while pointing at his rib cage.  I looked at him and asked skeptically, "I assume you're pointing towards where you think your "soul" is? You do realize it's not quite as easy to pinpoint as that?"  He looked at me distastefully, not in the mood for mockery.  "Bubz for goodness sakes.  Here I am speaking of the soul and loftier things and you let your baser instincts for ridicule and stupidity take over and mar the conversation".  I kept a straight face and watched while he tickled a suspicious looking Mia and sang "Hey sister, soul sister...Lady Marmalade" to her. She didn't appreciate his tone deaf version very much and chose to playfully bite his nose, resulting in some shrieking (from Sid), penitence from Mia and me springing into action to stuff cotton up Sid's nose to stem the bleeding.

Later as he sat dolefully on the sofa trying to glare at Mia who was asleep on her back, he asked me "You don't believe in soul mates, bubz"? I took barely a second to answer since I have given the subject much thought over time, "Nope, not really".  He looked crushed and exhaled a piece of cotton forcefully out of his nostril. "You're joking? Everybody believes in soul mates"! I looked surprised and asked, "Really? Where'd you hear that?" He answered confidently, "Here and there". I pursued this line of questioning, "What do they say"?. He answered a little less confident, "This and that".  "Come come, they must say something more concrete than 'this that'". He muttered and looked around shifty-eyed, "You know, soul mate-shole mate"! I decided to let him off, "I'm sure there are lots of people here and there who say this and that, I just don't think there's that one person destined for you". He looked like I had struck him across the face, "You're telling me on our 4th anniversary that we aren't soul mates"! It was like telling a child that Santa wasn't real. I was treading on delicate ground now and had to be careful. "Aww bubz, just because I don't believe in soul mates and that perfect someone, that doesn't mean that I think we're not well suited or that I love you any less".  It was like he had been slapped in the face, definitely not a topic for an anniversary conversation!

"Ok, let me be more specific. I just feel we meet different people through our lives and certain partners are more suited to us during specific phases in our lives. I can't imagine some of the guys I liked in school or college having the same appeal as they did earlier!"  I looked at him and he had a silly grin on his face, "You're thinking of one of your past crushes on our anniversary, you jerk"! He snapped out of it quickly and hurriedly tried to cover up, "No, no was just thinking of the time I first saw you!"  I glared at him and chose to ignore this interruption, "Anyhow, as I was saying. Relationships need work and you work well with some people better than others.  As we get older, we have more defined versions of who we want to be with and try and hopefully things work out well with the person we choose to be with".  He still looked a bit hurt, "So we're not a match made in heaven, you're not the butter to my bread and so on?"  I scratched Mia's belly and offered him some fresh cotton for his nose, "Of course I'm the butter to your bread et all, I love you (somedays more and somedays less!) and we choose to be with each other and make it work. Of course you give me enough reason to want to make it work, but if you had met someone else who you got along with fairly well and got married to them, I'm sure you'd still be happy".  It seemed to make a little more sense to him since the horrified expression had left his face and the cotton was still firmly lodged in his nose.

"Rather un-romantic, bubz. So Mia wasn't destined to be with us?" I started thoughtfully at her, "I'm a little less decided when it comes to our relationship with animals. Would I have loved another doggy as much as I love Mia, of course I could have. But I chose Mia based on a photo (something I would never do with a person) and my sister thinks she is a reincarnation of one of my older pets, Ruslana. I think she might have something there." He was scratching his head, "So you're my soul mate for now, till I find a better one. A bit tiresome to look for one now, don't you think"? I could see where this conversation was going and decided to curb it quickly, "Don't you dare. You're stuck with me, live with your choices now"! He grumbled while shuffling away, "Like dangling a carrot in front of me. Opening my eyes to all these possibilities and then poof, shutting me in the darkness"!  I smiled and yelled after him, "Happy anniversary bubz"! He had wandered off into the other room and was staring at a photo of himself, "I'm sure lots of girls would choose to be with me based on this photo. Just wait, I'm changing my status to 'single, don't believe in soul mates, come one come all' on Facebook and posting this pic!"