Mist. Rain. Hills. And a little poetry

So I cheated. I said I would write about my life in the suburbs but before I could get to making sense of my thoughts, our impending trip to the hills claimed priority.

Can you really blame me?

Last week, Delhi was boiling. Literally. You could probably fry an egg out in the balcony. I couldn't wait to get out of the city - we were to drive up to Ramgarh, in Uttarakhand, and then hop across to another gorgeous hilltop in Ranikhet.  So I was distracted. The first few days of last week went by too quickly as I fussed over (yes, I can really overdo it sometimes) whether I should bake a cake for my sister-in-law (who we were going to visit in Ranikhet after two days in Ramgarh), would it keep till Saturday? Should I bake cookies instead? What kind of cookies would she like? Phew...you get the picture. By the time I figured a good cookie recipe I could attempt, I realised I was way too tired post work (and probably from all the fussing) to barely pack for our trip, let alone whip up something in the kitchen.  

So off we went, early Thursday morning, sans cake or cookies, but filled with a whole lot of relief knowing we'd soon be in cooler climes. Living on the fringes of Ghaziabad, in Indirapuram, which is right by NH 47 (that takes you straight up to the hills!) has its advantages. You spend less time on the road to the hills than if you were coming from any other part of NCR :) By 1: 30 pm, we were unpacking our bags at Neemrana's Ramgarh Bunglows, a set of 4-5 colonial cottages that are gorgeously refurbished and look out to a quiet, twinkling valley.

In this unassuming, non-touristy (it's still quite uncluttered, no markets, no tourists milling about, save for a couple of resorts that have sprung up here), we had absolutely nothing on our agenda except to eat, snooze and read.

So we spent most of our time on this balcony. Reading, gazing at the hills (in the event that we won't be seeing them again for a while), pretty damn amazed at the tricks something as frail as mist can get upto. It drizzled for most part, making the seven layers of hills around us even prettier than usual, pretty plums peeking out of lush green trees, just begging to be plucked and devoured!

It all really was super dreamy. So much so that I scribbled a poem after, what, 10 years? It's neatly folded into an envelope for safekeeping (in the event that I don't write another for the next decade) and I do intend to key it in here. In my next post! 

The glorious suburbia and other things

Last evening, my husband asked how my new blogging stint was going.

Okay, I said. But I wasn't quite sure where it was going. I was loving that I had another space to scribble in, apart from the work at the magazine I write for, but I needed a focus.

Should it be food? Given my current obsession with all things culinary, it seems about right. But I'm not a regular cook, I cook when I please. Probably not enough to blog about.

Films? Love 'em, but I'm not always up to dissecting them. Quite often I get put off when films are overanalysed, laid completely bare. Sometimes, I like films to stay in my head. Little strains floating about, coming back to me now and then.

Travel? I love sharing photographs and anecdotes when I'm out and about but I don't travel nearly as much as I would like to. Certainly not enough to sustain a blog! (Though next week we're off to our long-awaited hill holiday!)

Books? That's my digital life's biggest casualty. How I would devour novels when I was in school, college, even till later in my 20s. In the last couple of years though, I haven't kept up with novels the way I would like to, the internet (and crazy downloads) an ever growing distraction. So my reading, sadly, has been patchy at best. I try and keep up with the latest in contemporary fiction, but I'm not reading nearly enough to write about it.

Once my whining was done, my husband piped up: Why don't you write about living in the suburbs? It got my mind racing. A city girl in the suburbs, with lots of things to rant about :) That sounds like me!

So here I am. A nearly 28-year-old who's lived most of all her life in Delhi (discounting 3 years in Bangalore and 1 year in Chennai). A south Delhi girl till last year - now a happy, bumbling suburban resident. Still drive  28 km to work in Safdarjung Enclave, in the heart of South Delhi.

So to say that I am cut off from regular city life would be only a half truth. During the day, I have access to all that I grew up with, the city markets, the wide, well-shaded Delhi roads, my favourite eating spots, and full view of Delhi's incredible historic ruins (Purana Quila, the various neglected tombs dotting Hauz Khas, Lodi Garden...and many more).

By night, I settle into one of the many high rises that lie on the far east of Delhi, on the fringes of Uttar Pradesh's Ghaziabad.

More on that in my next post :)

Life after Junior Masterchef

Life after Junior Masterchef....sucks. Seriously. I mean, it's nice that the very nice people at Masterchef Australia didn't waste any time in putting out the new season of the show right after the Junior version ended...but umm, I'm really not that enthused about the adult contenders on the show. They, ermm..seem to lack character. I miss Sienna's pretty smile and Isabella's coyness! Compared to their obvious cuteness, these adults just seem to be so clumsy and run-of-the-mill. Don't like :(

Yet, come 9 pm and I'm hunting for the remote because when compared to the other stuff going on on television currently, even the b-o-r-i-n-g adults on Masterchef come across as angels. I have never felt more disconnected from Indian television. Growing up, I would devour Mastarcard Family Fortunes with as much enthu as I would Friends. Anita Kanwar's Inspector KC in the detective serial Saboot was one of my favourite characters on television. Hell, I could even put up with Neena Gupta in the rather dramatic Saans!

Not anymore. I've never felt more dependent on American and British (and now Australian) television for my entertainment fix. And now that most of my favourites (The Good Wife, Mad Men, Downton Abbey, The Mentalist, Modern Family, in no particular order) are on a break till later this year, I'm so parched for good television! (I do wonder if Sorkin's The Newsroom is worth a shot!)

It looks like I'll have to rethink my affections for the a.d.u.l.t.s on Masterchef Australia, after all. Come on, guys, show some spark!

Summer highlights, mango delights

So I do have a weakness for food blogs, a very deep, dark weakness that could land me in a very dangerous overeating zone sometime very soon. I seem to be able to blabber on about anything edible till the end of time... or at least till my husband gives me that weird look, wondering what the fuss is all about.

But what would life be without all the glorious food on offer? And doesn't talking about it only make it more irresistible? I couldn't go a day without thinking of that one new dish in some corner of the world that i must try. Of course, Masterchef Australia and it's super awesomeness contributes heavily to my daily culinary aspirations.

Of late, I've been obsessed with mangoes. Like the rest of the nation! It's perhaps the only highlight in the oppressive heat of Delhi (oh, sorry, there's also the beautiful Indian summer coolers like shikanji and panna!). Come summer, I fall in love with mangoes all over again. Two weekends ago, I made Mango Cinnamon Kheer (courtesy my colleague Debarshi {He's on twitter @sanityturast }, at who's house I discovered how to make it because the one he made was just so good!). The same weekend, I tried Mango and Fresh Cream Tarts. Though the tarts I think were not stiff enough, the kheer was excellent. So naturally when I spotted another mango-infused recipe - http://thegreatcookaroo.blogspot.in/2012/06/mango-banana-gelato-just-three.html#comment-form by my friend Ruchira, who, by the way, is an incredible cook (so I have heard, read, and believe, even though I am yet to eat her gorgeous food). This one looks as healthy as it can get for a dessert sort of dish, and I'm going to try it this weekend for sure!!

     My first time with Mango and Fresh Cream tarts - buttery and crumbly with bits of sweetness

Meanwhile, let me sign off with that Mango Cinammon Kheer Recipe that you HAVE to try if you love mangoes...

But first, here's a peek at how it looks. I forgot to take pics of my own kheer, but this is how Debarshi's kheer looked:

                                                   Mango magic in a bowl

Mango and Cinnamon Kheer  (serves 4)

- Boil one cup of rice with 1.5 litres full cream milk

- Once the rice gets nicely cooked and milk condensed, your kheer is ready.

- Add 3-4 teaspoons of sugar after taking the kheer off the flame (adjust sugar quantity according to how sweet you want it because the mango will add its own sweetness)

-Puree 1 kilo mango in the blender-Add mango puree to the kheer, and then sprinkle 1.5/2 teaspoons of cinnamon powder

Mix well. Chill. Eat. Share!

For the love of books

At home and on the road, yeh, I've been dreaming up a weekend escape, but at work, I've been thinking books and charming corner bookstores...so here below is the piece that has appeared in this week's edition of Outlook magazine. Read the original piece here.


The Familiar Frontispiece
By Neha Bhatt


A day before author and journalist Jerry Pinto’s book launch at Delhi’s tiny but eclectic Yodakin bookstore, an e-mail was sent out to those attending: “The doors will close as soon as the store is full to capacity. However, we are putting speakers outside so you will be able to hear the reading on the verandah if you are late, and you don’t mind standing.” A wise measure at a bookstore like Yodakin, which at 400 sq ft of ground space is low on legroom but high on creating an alternative book world, stocking up on independent
titles, music and cinema. A half hour before the reading of Pinto’s Em and the Big Hoom, the bookshop has already filled up and latecomers happily spill over onto the loft and out to the verandah. “When you come into a place like this, people tend to feel relaxed, and start participating in events,” says Yodakin owner Arpita Das, who also runs alternative publishing outfit Yoda Press. Sure enough, with lots of easy banter and a humour-filled interactive reading, the evening feels more like a fun, informal gathering at a friend’s pad.


Priya Kapoor, director at Roli Books, likes to create a similar vibe at CMYK, a well-designed bookshop and cafe with outlets in Delhi and Pune that opened a branch in Mumbai just last week. Specialising in illustrated books on art and design, Kapoor is busy building a community of book enthusiasts to get people back into bookshops. “The big bookstore chains have been a real letdown in terms of their selection of books. Therefore, we have more niche stores opening shop than ever before, to fill the gap.” Most evenings at her stores end in a movie screening, poetry or book reading. Over weekends, you are tempted with baking classes and a variety of workshops, for both kids and adults.


It all adds to the new energy simmering in the independent book circuit, where the idea of a nonchalant visit to a bookshop is being turned on its head. A more experiential, offbeat one is in vogue. Specialised, theme-based bookstores are opening doors even as old-style independent and chain bookshops battle poor sales or shut down altogether. Gangaram’s in Bangalore recently relocated to cut costs. The dependable Bookworm in Delhi shut shop a couple of years ago. Meanwhile, online book shopping, once faddish, has turned serious, with webstores constantly locked in battle over offering bigger discounts.


Bad time to open a bookshop then? Young entrepreneurs Aseem Vadehra and Kanika Kapoor didn’t think so. Their dream of opening a bookstore with a Parisian feel resulted in the quaint, vintage-styled Spell & Bound in Delhi, with an attractively designed children’s section and a snack bar to boot. “Even in a digitised world, people need a meeting spot, a cultural cove, and Spell & Bound provides that space,” says Vadehra of his store, just a year old. A month-old addition is the cafe, Kettle Drum, where you can snack while you browse and avail of discount coupons. In expansion mode, the duo recently set up a children’s books kiosk at Select Citywalk mall. Like other savvy new independent booksellers, Vadehra and Kapoor keep alive a steady, infectious buzz about their store through regular updates on social media sites. For Vidya Virkar, managing partner at Mumbai’s legendary Strand Book Stall started by her father T.N. Shanbhag, keeping with the trends is important. “Large chains can’t hold a candle to small ones like ours. What we create are personal bookshops, catering to eclectic readers,” she says.


In Chandigarh, Vishal Bhasin, 30, is hoping to birth a book culture through his one-year-old Books ’n Brew, which opened its second outlet in the city in March. “The idea is to create a social hub, while trying to encourage people to read, which is a challenge here,” he says. Ditto the barely-a-month-old May Day Bookstore and Cafe in Delhi: it offers a space “to read, discuss culture and politics, and have coffee”. An adjoining culture space, Safdar Studio, which will host events, completes the deal. “Coffee and books gel well,” agrees Nishant Sinha, consultant at The Coffee Cup, another bookshop-cum-cafe located in Hyderabad. The store keeps a collection of, well, coffee-table books on cookery and travel that customers can browse through, with a section of the latest bestsellers on sale. “People can order books and we will get it for them in 2-3 days,” promises Sinha.


Most independent booksellers are conscious of the dynamic online market. Vadehra and Kapoor keep Spell & Bound open till 11 pm nightly to catch the office-going crowd, and promise delivery of online orders within a day. Even the old hands, like the Strand Book Stall, which also enjoys a formidable presence on Bangalore’s IT campuses, offer online discounts. “Fifteen per cent of our sales are online, I feel most people are shopping online for books for its novelty value. Even so, the larger book chains will not survive in long run. But independent bookstores and online bookstores will coexist,” predicts Virkar.


So, even though Flipkart frenzy might account for a certain share of book-buying, niche bookstores have a fair playground to operate in. “We don’t feel threatened by online buying because in a bookstore like ours, people prefer to browse before making up their mind about a purchase,” says Aarti Walia, owner of the Delhi-based Bookwise, a charming wood-panelled bookstore specialising in coffee-table books of all kinds. It also stocks handmade stationery as an add-on. “We like to pamper customers. Anybody who walks in is served a cup of tea,” she adds.


For book lovers, such personal touches count as much as the careful selection of quality titles. “In a big bookstore, you have to wade through the new breed of made-in-India bestsellers before you get to what you are really looking for,” says writer and internet professional Arunava Sinha. Pinto puts it more emotionally, “Niche bookstores make me feel like there is another life for books. These are bookshops with a heart.”

The cruel summer and other stories

Everyone around me is planning some kind of a vacation or the other. Jungle safaris, hill getaways, overseas hotspots. And here I am, with no active plans for the foreseeable future, wondering when the hell I can get out of the city and take a break from the hateful hotness of Delhi. Naturally, I'm a winter girl all the way down to my wonderfully colourful wollen legwarmers. But for now, I'm still figuring out when I can sneak a day or two out from my work sched and race to the hills.

My friends and colleagues tell me I shouldn't be complaining because I took time off in April. As true as that is, I'm such a fan of extended weekends. I'm daydreaming about sure and unsure travel plans all too often - it gives me a pretty unparalleled high, directly proportionate to how bummed out I get when it's about to end and I know I've got to wake up the next day and get back into mundane routine. I get grumpy, very grumpy.

I blame my parents. You see, when we were kids, my sister and I, we barely spent a holiday at home. My parents were forever in overdrive over where to vacation, and which tiny part of unseen India we didn't yet have in our photo album. By the time I got to middle school, I think we had covered 3/4 of India and about 1/4 of the world, which really, was a lot of the time. We'd done every kind of safari imaginable and seen more monuments than I could remember. We'd covered much of the coast, danced around snowflakes, taken boat rides on numerous rivers. We'd scaled the Eiffel Tower and covered that funny bird park in Singapore. We'd seen more museums around the world than I can count. I had a cupboard full of holiday diaries my father made sure I wrote, and boy, am I glad he forced me to jot stuff down. I get pretty tickled when I revisit those diaries, chuckling away at notes I know I always wrote in a hurry, wishing I didn't have to write them at all. I should remember to thank my father for getting my lazy ass down to making those seemingly insignificant but oh-so deliciously memorable notes.

But hey, I'm not 13 anymore (Does the font make me seem like I am? Can't help it - it's too darn cute to not use). I'm also not so big on the non-stop sightseeing bit anymore. What my parents did not pass on to me was their unending energy when it comes to getting up and about, while on holiday. My mother, actually, has always been absolutely the model traveler, getting the best out of any vacation, soaking in every possible moment a destination might have to offer.

Umm, I'm really not that enterprising. Out of India, yes, I mean you gotta get your money's worth, right? But on home ground, I like to take it easy. You see, I've obviously fallen in that typical city-bumpkin habit of wanting to only reeeeeeelax during any vacation. I'm all about late, terribly long breakfasts, reading, sleeping, reading, taking a walk around the resort, spa-ing and then getting down to lovely, long dinners. I took that view a bit too far when recently we were all at the friendly family resort in Ooty, soaking in the lovely sun and cool breeze. My mother voted for more driving about in and around Ooty than I had signed up for. So there I was, disrupting a perfectly nice family vacation with my loud views. The husband, the father, the sister, cousin and granny were kind of squashed in between. I really should have kept quiet. Hell, I need to start being less of a party pooper!

But seriously, all's well that ends well. My enthusiastic mother learnt quickly not to take my grumbling too seriously, and that as long as I get my spa and sleep time, I'm not such a bad fellow traveller :)

I caught the blogging bug..third time over

Yeh, I've written a blog before. It didn't quite work out. Umm, I think I jinxed it right from the start, named it  Writer's Block. That was meant to be tongue-in-cheek, of course, but as it turned out, the joke was on me. I wrote nothing in it after the first couple of posts. Had the worst writer's block of my life.

But that wasn't my first blog. There was one some six or seven years ago, with a name I can't even properly remember. I think that was a time when there was a kind of blog craze all around. Obviously, it didn't last for me.

That's me. Too lazy for my own good. Hyperactive on some occasions. Like now. When I'm all jumpy about writing lots of blog posts and getting it all together. Sharing, debating, looking out for others who might agree to disagree. A little notebook that I can scroll down when I want to rewind my life a bit. But let's see how long it lasts. I would wait and watch.

Why did decide to blog again? The real reason I got down to opening this one (and moving from wordpress to blogspot) was because I often find myself writing a blog in my head. On the way home, as I drive over some of Delhi's nicer flyovers and stare into the smoggy distance (I'm not the one driving, so it's okay to stare outside the window). Or  waiting somewhere, for someone. Sometimes even when I'm half awake. Sort of makes sense then to actually get down to writing?

But I'll have to admit, sometimes I feel like not writing. Or reading. I mean, I do it day in and day out. It's my profession, I write (in a magazine) for a living. So I'm not too hard on myself when I think, I should blog, I have all these thing going on in my head and so, I should really put them down. Might be fun. And then it just so happens that I'm at a loss for words. And while I recover from that momentary loss of sentence-formation I'm not sure what I have to say has any significance. Does it? Will it? Really, I gotta wait and watch.

I mean, who writes a blog post about the complexities of blogging? :)