When you feel what you read.

Sometimes, I want a different ending. A different narration. The book that I am reading, becomes my book. I become the author and I do not like where the narration is going,  I do not want to go to the place, I do not want to feel this any longer. I can not live this any longer. I cannot watch it happen.

I am an ostrich with head in a pile of sand.

Are you still with me? Does it happen to you? Do you live the story?

There are a few books I could not finish. Various reasons and the stupidest of all was the font is too small, the big is too thick aka The Lord of the ring, actually, I say,  something jinxed about it, I could not even stand the movie.

Then there is  “All the lights you cannot see”. It is such a poetic book. Wonderful. I just stopped reading it. I could not live the life of a blind girl anymore. A smart blind girl. Blind, never mind that. She could see all the lights, more than me. I was tired of waiting, waiting for when the author will interweave the lives of the blind girl and the German boy. I needed a happy ending soon. It felt like a trap. I had to leave it midway.

Actually, those were the easy ones. The next one is so hard.

I want to see where it goes.  where Laleh Khadivi is taking me, rather taking Rez. And with each chapter, I am feeling the nudge. I am at the edge of the cliff along with Rez . He is almost Reza now. I haven’t touched the book since morning.

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A Good Country. The book I picked up read about Iran and also Goodread had thumbs up reviews

 

A Good Country is a book about 14-year-old Rez, an America-born son of upper-middle-class Iranian immigrants. He is growing up as an all American teenager, with the complete surf, sex, weed, and chemistry deal.  The words are real. So real. I loved the writing style.

One incident distances him from his all American boy- gang, polarizes him and he becomes friendly with The others. The one who shares his background.  Arash is equally cool with lot of better manners and Fatima is lot more beautiful than Sophia. It took one bombing, one cheating case, one expulsion from school to nudge Arash over the fence. I think this was very weak. Very convenient .. Is it for real?

But I read on, for Rez. He is living his American life but now wants to know how to be a good man. How to be a good person. He believes what his father says “America is a good country“.

It looks good. So far. I can live this. One human to another.

Rez is still rez. But there is a series of bombing, the influence of Arash, and an airport incident where is he taken for questioning because of his name. He finds himself in a mosque and then another and then is mesmerized by brother-hood. He is now distanced from his all-white American friends, almost. His girl-friend is wearing Hijab.

And I know what the next chapter could be. and I cannot read any further. I want a different narration. A different ending. Rez is searching for his identity and how can Syria give him that?

I feel sorry for Rez. Now Reza. I do not want him to jump off the fence. To be brain-washed. I sure hope, he doesn’t take his girl-friend to Syria. To a good country. This is a scary subject.

I asked my Muslim husband if anyone can brain-wash him to go for a cause. He laughs at me. He can turn the preacher around to renounce his religion 🙂 I believe he can do that 😀 , To him, religion is crowd control and he is not scared one bit of it.

So then, why can’t Rez be like my husband? Doesn’t it feel like a bad choice of decision from an extremely bright intelligent Muslim teen? Maybe that is the point.

This is what an author does to you. This is what a good book does to you. I don’t have many chapters left to read, but I cannot read it further. I am an ostrich now, refuse to believe that Reza is perhaps going to cross borders in the next chapter. My head in the sand, I just cannot see this through. As if Reza is real. Maybe, he is.

Kudos to Laleh Khadivi. She is scaring the hell out of me. She is making me feel sad. I am gonna read her narration. But right now, I need a break. Because the story narration, the writing style is so vivid, Rez has come alive.

When you feel, what you read….

 

 

When you see a lady sitting on a table, with a book..

LEAVE HER ALONE.

Do not small talk. Do not “Hey, How are you?”.

And never-ever-ever join her on the table. Period.

She might be your best buddy, but you are definitely not hers, not at that moment.

Total stranger.

And if that lady happens to be me, with my crush, I might bite, meow, roar or just chuff! It goes south from here, so if your headaches, you will know whom to blame.

You may be the King of the North out to save the world from white walkers, Night King and Zombies, but I am the Queen of Seven Kingdoms, I have two full-grown Dragons, an army of Un-sullied, an army of savages Dortharaki’s……….

And a BLOODY HELL GOOD BOOK to read!

Oh My! Why so much ranting? Whatever happened to the sweet girl?

I told you, I hate reading…

I reach my office early, not that I want to. But for brevity sake, let’s just know that I get there a good half-an-hour before I should. And I find solace in the cafeteria. I look forward to reading what is happening next in Saleem Sinai life. Add to that, the reading done while commuting to the office, has already transported me to the pre-independence India, somewhere in Delhi, where Saleem Sinai’s mother has just made a public announcement of his existence.

Get this picture straight – Am deep down in the world of words.

You can only find me physically walking to the cafeteria, picking up a cup of coffee and settling down on a table with a book in hand, but in my mind, am not present in cafeteria. Am in Delhi.

Here is a visual, just so you get it straight.

girl and boy sitting in front of brown wooden coffee table
She doesn’t want your company buddy. She isn’t smiling for you. Get your own book.                  Photo by Zun Zun on Pexels.com

 

But the universe is full of people who have a head that talks. (rolling eyes) does not read. The cafeteria is mostly empty at this time but has few from this breed. They have their head full of thoughts that ought to be spoken out loud in the presence of another head.

And they join me on my table, the table where I already have a company. Of my book. I could almost bark- Can’t you see, I have a company?

This one here and it’s a bloody good company.

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But I didn’t bark. Or even Meow!

And so, I was interrupted by their life’s rumble about travel, office, kids, life ..blablabla. I was lending my ear but inside, I was cursing. You.

Sorry. Apology.  Forgive me, please.

It was supposed to be me-reading time. You are at the wrong table! Clearly.

When it happened the second time. I even gave a cue. Out-loud Or maybe I just murmured.

Me picked up my tea, headed to a table. *Spot* a “Hey! Person”, Ignore, ignore and grand Ignore ..

“Hey! Person”: Hey, Are you alone? .. I will bring my cup.

Me: Am not alone… (watching him go to coffee machine) (murmuring) I really don’t need a company. 

I hated him. With all my Heart, Kidney, Lung. Cumulative.

And then it all poured out of his mouth….

Forcing me to ask about his life. His commute. His work. But my mind was on the bookmark peeping out of my book placed neatly on the table. It will be only until the end of the day, a good ten hours before I could pick up my story 😦  

See, How can I not hate that “Hey! Person?”

Moral of the story. 

I have a book. I don’t need your company.

I have a book. I shouldn’t sit in the cafeteria, find a better place ( Heading to my desk, I realised we have a small pantry, crammed behind reception, on my floor, one down the cafeteria)

I have a book, sit in the pantry, hidden from all Hey! people.

Get the cue 😉 I don’t care!

 

 

 

 

 

Am having a goosebump moment..

The feeling, that very soon I am gonna finally fulfill my long awaited desire. That next time, when  I come across this title, I will be able to raise my hand and dig into my memory of today.

I finally have a copy of Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie!

MIDNIGHT’S CHILDREN.

Am gonna read it. It’s stupid. I have a crush on a few titles. This is one of them.

In fact, I had to bribe my dear friend/hoarder-of-books/voracious-reader/sorry-cant-part-with-my-book with another of my favorite-yet-unfinished crush of mine. I will give you my “An Era in Darkness..” in exchange for Midnight Children? She paused just for a sec before saying yes. She has her crushes too 😉 I was feeling devilish exploiting her, but heart pounding for Midnight Children!

Some titles are the legend. The authors are the greatest artist in the world. They have created a masterpiece that will live in the memory of millions of peoples, that will outlive them and their readers. That will inspire millions of minds. Will make a person completely stranger to the author smile, or cry or just connect in the deepest level of the heart without even knowing of the existence. That is the power the authors have. The magician of words, the creators of history.

So then, How can I not have a crush? 

I have to admit. I just don’t go out and buy all my favorites. They come to me. Each one is an episode. Like it is a conspiracy to slowly unravel to me instead of just heading to my bookshelf.

Here is the conspiracy.

Gone with the Wind – From a college friend, who just wanted to offload book. Was at awe at the courage of Scarlet-O-Hara then and even today.

The Kite Runner – I don’t possess a copy. I got it from my colleague. I loved Afganistan and I could see a boy running under a blue sky covered with colorful paper wings even thinking about it.

The God of Small Thing– Has its own post 🙂

The Tattooist of Auschwitz – Story of Love in the most difficult of time.

On a side note- Why couldn’t I finish “An Era in Darkness…”? because two chapters into the book, I couldn’t look at anything British..ily without resenting them. I just hated them. Plain Hate. And I wasn’t feeling good about the hate. And I know, I love Hugh Grant and Harry Potter! So, it was a tussle and the best thing to do at the time was to abandon the book and pick it up after I could stabilize the raging hormones within me.

So, what am I doing here instead of delving into the story of children born on the stroke of midnight of 15th Aug, 1947?

Am just sitting and admiring the book. Literally. Am just happy that I can start reading it. I have it. The words, the story will come alive soon and I will die knowing I have read a masterpiece, that one day my son, his child and generation of Sayed clan to come have a chance to read this masterpiece and at that moment will be connected to my soul.

Too much? I should just stop now..Am having goosebumps!

Now, tell me about your crush ❤

 

I hate reading…

…..because life sucks when am NOT reading. Why can’t life be about reading, sleeping and occasionally eating?

Life, the sucker, has to happen exactly when I have a good book in hand, Exactly while the story is creating a world filled with moving images, characters, era, location, emotions and transporting me to a time where I cannot possibly ever reach without the words in the book.

When I remember the quotes from the book, or can almost smell the rain, barish, soil my feet walking down the muddy path, feel the sadness of the daughter waiting for her father, the pain of losing a dear friend, the happiness of finding love, the redemption,the world of witches and wizards and flying dinosaurs

At least life doesn’t suck when it is within words.

And so I do all that life expects from me, cooking, packing lunch, office -home, But I hate the author for engaging my mind.

The result? I read whenever I can.

On the toilet seat; when the pot is whistling on the stove; when am walking eight stairs down at the office; when am at the elevator; on the dinning.

THE GOD OF SMALL THINGS, is the first novel in my memory by an Indian author to won BOOKER PRIZE(1997). I remember when I heard this news, I was very proud. I didn’t forget the name ever Arundhati Roy and the title. But I wasn’t a collector then. I couldn’t afford to buy it. It was too expensive for someone who just started reading novels outside academic. I was very sure, one day I will read it.

20 years later ( See, why I complain about life?), it took me 20 years to buy this book.

I was at the mall last weekend, waiting for father-son to join me when I wandered into a Bookstore and found this. 20th ANNIVERSARY EDITION.

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And of course, I bought it. Without thinking that probably it will be cheaper to order online. Am on page 43 and I know why this is a winner Book. I have already been to Kerala(where the story is set) and back several times. Am a Christian now. The book is a poetic novel.

“Things can change in a day.”

“Chacko was Mammachi’s only son. Her own grief grieved her. His devasted her.”

Good authors are like pied-piper of Hamelin. The readers will merrily follow them into the world that really doesn’t exist; to doom or rejoice. The beauty of this world is that there is only one story and as many dimensions as there are readers. Each reader follow the pied-piper but see, feel, smell and sign in his world! For me, some days the story comes alive at the night in the softness of light from the table-lamp, after the father-son have gone to sleep. This is the time when the world outside my window is still and dark. But the words in the book are thumping for my attention to be read more. I stop reading and soak in the story. Estha and Rahel (Twins from God of Small Things)  forms a bond that I wish to share with my unreal twin brother 🙂

Then there are non-readers like my husband, who never failed to ask me when he sees me with a book in hand.

Am gonna ask you a question from that book now! Ready for the exam?” ” Does it have pictures?! What no photo..must be a very bore book”  “Abhi tak pass nahi hui, kitna padege?

I hate reading because I miss it so much when am not!

If only I had a job that gives me money while I spend time reading a novel from my favorite genre.

 

I have analyzed this life situation very carefully, There is perhaps a parallel universe where I can read all I want, but it doesn’t sound like a good ending.

Somewhere Am a librarian but it is too silent for a Libran social butterfly like me.

Or working at a bookstore- that will be then even more pathetic, surrounded by this sea of novels of all genre by all authors great, small, big and all I can do is arrange shelf, help the kid find coloring book! I wouldn’t survive a day.

Or working at a publisher – Naah, I wanna read a book that I like, not the one I publish. Not anyone bossing me to read this when I wanna read that.

So in this universe, I have settled for reading on the toilet seat.

I do have the plan to open my own Reading Cafe one day. Walls filled with books. From all genre. By all authors. A chalkboard-painted wall to write your favorite quote, to paint the world from novel just finished. The cafe will have all sort of sitting arrangement, from hammock to bean-bag, to give you a cocoon to just read and drink coffee. Where one could come out and quote favorite line or read fav passage and not feel out of life.

I will serve coffee and wait for monsoons. Authors will be the celebrity. Air will be filled with quotes from books and stories will come alive. There will be talks, discussions and book club meetings. Each will have own world to immerse in from any genre or be at any place the author takes them to.

One room definitely will be for people reading the last leg of the novel. DO NOT DISTURB ME when I need to know the end.

Life finally will stop sucking.

Vegan friends , I feel your pain!

Scene : Dinner time , no chicken , no fish , not every egg. Okra fry and Indian bread. My life sucks!

Suddenly  , I feel a pain in my heart. OMG ! Am I having a heart attack?

My head tries to focus on food , trying best to relish it , but my heart has given up. So you see “the” heart attack.

This is how blabbing goes…

I have always felt pain and sorry for vegans. I mean , what do you get to eat as vegetarians? I see them jumping at paneer dish , craving for chole-batura.

Oh my ! What a pity …Have they ever tasted keema rolls??

Head : .. You seriously can’t be saying this ?  

No , no , I do. really. With all my heart , I feel for them. A good vegan food is an oxymoron.

Head: Oh C’ON , veggie is good.

I know I should not be saying this on a public post , I will get backlash from all my vegan fan following..Sign! Not to mention my vegan friends.

Head: fan? Do you mean the ceiling fan ….. ha ha ha I mean this is your best joke ever!

Ignoring head , he is a nut….

Head: You are confused again, I am you , your head. I cannot be He. Wrong pronoun lady. Again!

How can you be Me, you just advocated for vegans!

Head: You do know capsicum is your favourite. You like Began ka bharta and Aloo pitika is the best mashed potato in the world!

So, I have few favourite. But I cannot live on veg alone , I mean I need chicken , egg or fish.

My refrigerator needs protein , and so does my stomach.

My liver needs to filter some chicken soup and my eyes are looking out for surmai fish , covered with semolina , soaked in masala , ting of lemon juice,  cooked slowly on a pan with mustard oil . Aaah !

I hate my dinner . And my vegan friends , I will show some solidarity and be happy and jump at paneer butter masala , but my true love will always be ..

Head (to his fans   vegan fans ) : This is not my heart!

 

Am thankful for the little things , You should be too !

There are some actions we go through every day , follow it unconsciously . Actions which gives us immense pleasure in life , peace of mind , relaxation of muscles , stress busters…. all unknowingly unselfishly.

Do we pause to enjoy these ? acknowledge ..?

Nooo. We ignore , coz , as usual humans are ungrateful beings!

Not me , not anymore , not in new year.

Am gonna thank and appreciate all the good things that happened to me this year and will continue to be thankful till my last breath.

Happiness is ,

Early in the morning when bladder is sending SOS signals to brain ; but son won’t let go , wants to hug on for some more time while the bowel is screaming “Now”. At the nth moment, deceive ,run for life , sit and release yourself !

Happiness at last amidst all “Mummy” screams!

Isn’t that SOME FEELING of relief 🙂 . It is pure pleasure , happiness.. if you pause to feel it.

Start from office for home( in hurry ), dare to ignore pokes from bladder. Drive straight to home. Park the scooter , get to the lift lobby . Lift is stuck at 2nd floor for whatever idiotic reason I can’t dwell on now .  Get in the lift (finally!) press your floor button. Hurry with the keys , fumble drop , pick up . Never-mind the keys, ring the door-bell , Someone , anyone pls  open the door NOW.

Rush to the bathroom.

It isn’t waste leaving our body .. its pressure , its stress and its “Sukun” at last.

And alas we don’t even thank God for our daily trip to bathroom. Do we ? We thank HIM for food , money , car , family .. but ?

PS : Just to be clear here , Pee and Poo , both gives me same sense of relief. I want to credit both to bring happiness in my life!

Farting.

Now this is something we humans as civilized society refuses to acknowledge point blank. We behave as if it never happens , I don’t, I didn’t hear a thing. One of my friend , just won’t listen about my farting adventures. Hates it , refuses to believe everyone fart’s including princess of Disney world.

Flash news  hero – We fart , everyone does. The whush, the paaa , the peeee sound or the noiseless impact. Unload  the big gas vent and feel the magic.

It’s natural , its healthy and what’s more – it’s fun! comes with the bonus point – muscle relaxation..

So go ahead , enjoy the life’s greatest pleasure of farting (more fun in front of your gf ). From now on , I will not pretend I didn’t do it. No more. Am a die hard fart fan! Paaeeeeeeeeeeeee.

PS: My husband always encourages me , says we can never be out of gas when he has me !

Itching and scratchy

Itching ? where .. eeesspecially at that unreachable , totally in-incommunicado part on my back . Any hand that comes for rescue is a blessed one!
Aaah sweetie, a little to left , up , center , wait stop right there and JALDI now! Oh Don’t stop , a little more . plsssss.

Isn’t that SOME FEELING ?
Driving on my scooter , suddenly , I feel something,the impulse is very strong. I come to stop and rush to home , what is the first thing I do ?
Scratch !

Doesn’t it feel like attainment ? Nirvana! Blessings! Am a step closure to God and at that moment my destiny is to just scratch that itch !
We should be thankful to itches ,  it tells us about the muscle , the corner ,the body cell that we never care, exists.

PS: My husband appreciates this already. He is trying to teach my son how to play with car on track very strategically located at his back, while he is lying face down ,

Burping

I have so far a bit un-fortunate in this , I do not burp often , as often as I wish.
Am aware of the satisfaction one gets from it . I know it . I have seen it. In the eyes of my father , uncle , aunts. The eyes are satisfied , happy followed by burrrrrp of a good meal.
A good burp says a lot about the meal.
You don’t need to thank , tip or acknowledge the cook. Just burp !

Buuuuuurrrp  Lady ! that was superb meal.

PS: I will practice burp , let’s all resolve to learn to burp and be thankful for full stomach.

Yawning

Need I say about its importance and how much we yawn and just yawn and yawn . but just not talk about how grateful we do it!

It’s the best way out to tell BORE , SLEEPY without uttering a word?

I mean , Yawn doesn’t lie.

PS: Am grateful for yawn coz this tells my little hero is sleepy and with some efforts on bed , he will sleep and I can watch my episodes of GoT!

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Moral of the story:

Don’t be an asshole – Burp , Yawn , Poo , Pee or Fart. Be thankful for little pleasures in life.

 

A place where google map has not reached yet but is the most awesome place on earth!

Whenever I tell any one that am from Assam , I always get a good response – It’s a beautiful place , Isn’t it ? Well , the truth is its not only beautiful because of its natural beauty but it’s truly awesome ! and am not saying this coz its my home town , but it really is.

Assam is a state in North East India . Guwahati is the pseudo capital . Now what are the best places to visit in Assam , how to reach there blah blah –  You can google. This post is about my personal favorite place at Assam , which is hard to find on map – Fulguri.

Fulguri is a  small village about 40Km from Guwahati , where I would spend my summer vacation every year . I once tried to find it on google map , and my husband claims to be successful in doing it Here. Never mind goggle  , I can find it , spends there the best 15 days of every year and enjoy its beauty.

So whats so great about this place? I have a list…

Green grass goes around around !

Literally , The place has shit load of green. God has special routine for this place .. it never goes out of green view- as far as I can see! There are 50 different shades of green. Now , Do you know why trees /leaves are  green – coz it is the most pleasant color to eyes.  Just look out of window your window, spot a tree and imagine it being in a color other than green? Nah  , Isn’t it?!

Now to this green canvas –

  1. add  mountains at far far far away distance .
  2. Fill the space between you here and far far away mountain with trees , cocunut , supari (Betel nut) , Shawl , Sagwan and bloody hell any green trees .
  3. Some  small villages – slanting tin roofs , small market place , not so good road , muddy place, kitchen garden and many many small-big ponds.
  4. Wide open paddy fields.

and you get a picture of what it looks like everyday from my window. It’s a view every city dweller aspire to see.

On the way to awesome , more scenic place, can you see the mountains far far there!
On the way to awesome , more scenic place, can you see the mountains far far there!

Peaceful yet noisy!

This place is peaceful , quite and relaxing – the kind where creative juices flows  out of grey cells. Well ,for some . The part of my brain which makes me lazy and sleepy overflow 🙂  It’s so quite , yet its full of sounds. Sound of bird chirping  , sound of Koel , sound of firefly , toad and the best sound of rain during monsoons.

Birds – Boy! They are easily busier than Mark Z ! Always in meeting together- chirping louder and louder.

Koel – Have you heard this bird ? A singer I tell you ,  better than Ms Dion. Kids just follow her cooing and koel sings back louder , as if to teach them . We used to repeat after koel as kids and now I try to teach my toddler son [but he is more interested in woooo -the howl of wolf !]

Barish = Rain , Pukuri=pond !

I have seen rain everywhere , but it’s most romantic at Fulguri! A walk in the rain with your partner under an umbrella activates the most romantic grey cells ❤ , activated by the continuous non stop rain and I never get enough of it.Everything cools down and the air becomes so fresh , wet and moist. Its freshness everywhere like someone has sprayed a giant room freshener!

People have adjusted to rain and its continuous presence during monsoons. House are built with slanting roof , not cemented but made of tin.Our main house have a huge courtyard surrounded by rooms on all 4 sides , leaving some place at one corner for entrance. My father has a small pond next to his house and breeds fish there. Every house has pukhuri =pond and breeds fish.

Sometimes water overflows all ponds and then all small-big water holes unite to create a big water entity . Many  people go fishing on the road side and kids jump around proudly showing the fish they caught… every where is a fish market :-*

The best is when rains hit hard on the tin roof , Voila !- Home becomes a pub house! Its so noisy that we cant hear each other . I remember as a kid screaming from across the courtyard to each other. The sound is so loud but such music ! Every nite is a thunderstorm. It’s scary but its definitely something to experience.

night thunderstrom
night thunderstorm , Photo courtesy = My husband and he asked me to put it here !
pond = Pukhuri
pond = Pukhuri
Fish from our pukhuri
Fish from our pukhuri
neighbours
our neighbor , the main house is the first one , then cousin and then ours .
The falling rain !
The falling rain !

 Open door policy

At Fulguri , no one keeps door closed.  It’s wide open all day long and anybody , absolutely anybody can come in , without knocking straight to where ever you are .. GASP ! Breach of privacy ? No I say . it’s so welcoming !

There is no boundary wall to separate us from our neighbor.

Where is my sugar ?

Assam is famous for tea (c) . So that should make us expert in tea ? Well our cup of tea is not everyone’s cup of tea!

Morning begins with tea prepared by my father and delivered straight to my bed – now that’s is something I wish he would pass on to his son-in-law..asap!  But hold on, where is my sugar? Tea ,  here is prepared in minimal  sugar and sometimes no milk -lal chai. It’s completely opposite to my in-laws [who are not from Assam ] where tea is close to sugar syrup!

In fact when someone from outside visit my home , drinks tea , they are absolutely sure that we haven’t added sugar and how is that every home they visit here forgets to add sugar :-0

So I have to instruct the host in advance : Please add at least 3 times more than usual.

Toddler’s paradise

Now , I take my son there once a year , it’s a paradise for any toddler – free huge space to run around , can play with grass , dirt , mud , mitti anytime , Gets to chase kabutor ( pigeon) , duck , dog ,cat , firefly . Bell a cow , checks out the mud pool. It cannot get better than that!

Here is my son looking for his missing duck!

Mummy where is my duck gone!
Adi trying to ring the bell of calf. He was giggling all the time!
Adi trying to ring the bell of calf. He was giggling all the time!

Yay! we are having a picnic !

My earliest memories of Fulguri is it’s kitchen – the common kitchen , when all my uncle and cousin were still a large single joint family. There were abut 50 people. Morning roti [Indian bread] making session was so fun like a picnic. All ladies of house gets together , makes roti on a single chulaha – a cook stove heated by burning wood. Lunch and dinner was prepared in those big big kadai , using spatula as long as 3feet over burning wood !Dal, Chicken curry or fish curry had more water and less meat – but even the top chef cant beat the taste – absolute divine.

Everyday is a picnic 🙂

Photographer’s paradise

The natural beauty of Fulguri promotes the photography juice of my husband’s brain -especially with macro lenses. He is seen always with a camera , up early in morning , puts on whatever slipper/shoes he could slip on and then trying to check out that one small flower bud or strange bug . At city apartment, I have hard time waking him up in the morning and at Fulguri I have hard time finding him on bed when I wake up!

I have to turn into a macro flower to get his camera attention  ! When we check out photo’s of our trip , 7 out of 10 doesn’t have any human presence !

macrodrop

macro

butterflyeating

Dinning table gossip

We have plenty of wood around , so every home has furniture -wooden bed , sofa , dinning etc . Solid Shesham wood , the kind of wood which furniture wala will proudly give you with guarantee for 100 years . So every home has a dinning and that piece of furniture  should be renamed as gossip table.

Why?

That’s the place where all gossips begins , take shape , analyzed , extrapolated and finally passed on to the next dinning table. All members gather around dinning , pull extra chair , stool  whatever fits their butt and join in the conversation.  So a 6 chair dinning table can even accommodate 10! The dinning is busy , long after we finish our meal.

I have to poo !

One of the thing I have seen only in Assam is : Poo and Pee place is different. When you go pee , you just pee . No poo. So dont need to bath :-o. But if you go for poo , you have to take bath after it. It’s still followed . So what do I like about it ?. The toilet for poo was about 500meters away from main house ! So we will be scare to go alone and ask cousin to accompany us to there – ” I have to poo”.

So while I poo inside without any fear, someone is guarding outside. Sometimes I tell my cousin to sing loud so I know she is there 😉

What’s your name ? Oooo Hira

How do you call your friend say named Tom ?  Tom , come here ..but at fulguri Tom will be addressed Ooooo Tom.It’s just a habit of people to call out as OOOO <name> . Now I really did not realize this until I was married and my non Assamese husband visited Fulguri. His reaction – Why is everyone calling you Oooo Hira ?

I like it though , I call Ma as ” Ma O Ma , Maye” . It’s our way to saying “O” I missed you , Now lets get going 🙂

The O sound is like a song prelude , before the important song .. that is the name. Even if the person is sitting next to you , you call out as O. Crazy habit ? May be for someone who hasn’t lived with it  , but for my assami sister , it’s a music that she want’s to hear from her daughter before she would finally respond to her call-  “Ma O Ma ,Maye”.

Try it Ooooo Sweetie 🙂

Traditional yet modern!

Now this is something , am not only fond of fulguri , but am very proud too. What’s best is it’s true for Assam , not only fulguri.

Fulguri may be a small remote village in north east india , or Assam may be a small entity in Indian political scene , But I tell you from my experience of living in almost all corners of India – Assam /fulguri is the place which still follows traditions but yet are super liberal and unorthodox , lot less of mumbo jumbo then rest of India.

Assam is far ahead when it comes to giving liberty to women  than any other big metro city. Women are given free rein , to choose their own partner , to choose not to get married , to choose to work , to dress as they feel like  , to voice opinion , are given equal right to education/work /property and all this is nothing modern . Assam has been like this in its traditions as far as I can remember! Once in my kitty party , the host had a game to write down things you only see in city not in villages and I was silently laughing when some said – women wearing makeup ,skirt , pant in city not in village. Fulguri girls are better dressed , knows better makeup than many of city girls I know , including me !

Check out my wedding dress- Isnt it beautiful
Check out my wedding dress- Isnt it beautiful

All this freedom , liberal thoughts yet Assam is traditional . I love to see the traditional brass utensils used , we even have our own towel – Gamsa. Ladies are dressed mostly in Makhela Sadar [most beautiful attire , it needs a place on its own in my list] , even the small knife used is kotori , a special knife. Every house has jhapi or sarai

Am a real proud Asamiya!

Fish , O Fish !

Assamese can go to war for fish 🙂 They absolutely love fish. I remember my uncle will always comment on an Ad featuring a person holding a big fresh water fish as-” if only I could eat that fish”.

The best thing of Fulguri is every home has a pond and every pond has fish and I have my father to catch fish for me , mother to fry it and the fish finally find its resting place in my stomach. The fish fry prepared by Ma is absolutely crunchy , nutty , yummy and addictive ! I don’t know how many fishes I kill during my annual trip.

Guest coming home ? No problemo .. father is out with his fishing rod 🙂 . So fresh water fish straight out of pond>kitchen>plate>stomach .

fish or anything cooked on this chulha , fired by burning wood is absolutely delicious..
fish or anything cooked on this chulha , fired by burning wood is absolutely delicious.

Specially during winter days when papa will put his chulha of burning wood outside and fry fish. I would sit just next to it and eat my heart out ! Here is a pic of papa cooking on chulha

Fish you are my favorite , you will always be my first love ❤ ❤ <3.

Where is my phone?

I keep loosing my phone when am there ? Why ?

Coz  , I don’t need it . There are so many things to do , so much to feel , to enjoy , sounds to hear , scents to take in .  There are so many “touch me not” waiting to be touched ! fish waiting to be fished out and eaten 😉 No wonder internet penetration is so low in rural India . It has it’s own network , it’s own social media.  It has it’s own charm which you certainly do not get it in other touristy places  !

Welcome to Fulguri 🙂