Chaat-ting it up with Paani Puri!

via Daily Prompt: Willy-nilly

Willy-nilly

 

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Lets raise a toast, a cup, to celebrate a medley of colours, flavours, and emotions with our favourite matki of joy! I’m talking about paani-puri, a crisp ball full of memories, sometimes experiences, spices, and a love that is beyond borders. No matter which country you are from, or which rung of social ladder you are on, willy nilly you gotta luuvvv Paani Puri!

Just visit any Street Car(t) of Desire, and Lo n Behold, there it is! Ssssh: The secret password to access is, “Bhaiya! Zara ek plate lagana!” Translation is impossible, its significance is depleted in any other language. But you see the machinery of the human hand work from the second that last syllable left your lips. Watch the eye-hand rhythm, no less than poetry in motion, and ‘Bhaiya’ is on the job, serving it up, before you figured out what just happened. He dips the holey, also holy for some, crunchy ball in the zesty minty pool of joy and then the gift is given to you.

You hold it reverently, balancing hope along its cracked fragility, and move the head slowly towards your hand as you also bring the hand to mouth, deft n urgently, its in. Whew!
Arent you glad there’s no mirror around you? Theres a reason they dont put one. The truth of life is that it is an internal experience for you, free of the external surround sound. You smile anyway and enjoy the joy of good things. Suddenly your eyes close, and you disappear in an illusion of an explosion that shook your world of senses. Its a Hold-up! You freeze with a warm tingling inside.

He looks at you just for a split second and knows you want more, because your hand reached out before your eyes opened and mouth recovered from the first experience. Your taste buds and brain work in sync to stop the tongue from wagging words. It is custom spiked with spicy intent!
Bhaiya nods to you while he serves up five others before you. You get the nod and dont laugh because its a secret understanding between siblings. Yes, remember, “All Indians are my brothers and sisters …” It is the singular integrative force that binds Indians together. It IS in The Masala that makes Bollywood films and Desi Boys and Girls click all over the world. You take away Pani-Puri, and you’ve ruined the South Asians forever. But then, where will you go to renew your zest in life? I tell you, it is IN The Paani-Puri. The pursuit of happiness ends right here.

No other place has people drooling in respect as they wait in line! A familial bond is established without Rakhi ties and mighty expectations. A faith in humanity restored as the next paani-puri comes along and you choose to relive that experience again. Compliment now: “Badhiya hai!” Wonderful words make Chaat happen.
And again.

The Standard Operating Procedure at home or in a restaurant is to break-in yourself; efficient tap with your thumb, quickly put a few chana, aka chick-peas, mush potato, raw red onion shreds, dash of sevian, and glitter of green dhania, aka, cilantro. Dip the whole ball in the bowl of tangy drink made with mint leaves and zesty spices will work their magic, that are sprinkled in, delicately to delight!
Don’t think. Just POP it in! You better believe it, one chomps down on the ‘whole’ thing together. Compete with friends and family on Speed and Accuracy of this amazing phenomenon, nom nom!

And yes, please know its okay to crrrunch down on it, otherwise its not paani puri, it’ll just be a soggy bummer, leading to a de-spritualising experience causing monetary devaluation.

I serve this chaaty presentation on this special day for Indians, Indians at heart, or even those who love Indian history because it was common until exactically Sevendy years ago! This paani-puri mania is a pre-requisite to get your South Asian Citizenship. Please check with the government website, SACsy.com if things have changed since I last dreamed it up.
(I have no idea why that turned blue😂).

Statutory Warning: Yes, the reference to Street Car named Desire is meaningful because over-indulgence can end in a minor tragedy.

Did you notice the colours in the pictures of Chaat and Paani Puri? Every good recipe has the colours green, white, saffron, and the ever nurturing golden earth. Thanks for your visit. Good chaat-ting it up with you!

My turn, “Bhaiya, zara ek plate lagana.”

Chomp.
“Badhiya hai!”

 

Picture credits: google search of words paani puri

 

 

🎼My 💟istic 🎶Symphony🎵

My 💟istic Symphony!

There’s a people symphony playing on 💓strings beginning @ C!
Instruments are strange ‘n’ far as eye n you can see.

Moods, stars, trees, the soul it frees, marching on dunes,
Clarinets on many planets, sing in melodious tunes.

A vevety sound trickles through Cello-ic exotic liquers,
sensations with mystical adumbrations in the throat n ear.

Painting harmonic colours with percussion, string, n wind;
Deafening vodka besides, light n sound in sync with rhythm win.

Notes emote everywhere, merge in a musical trajectory,
integrating science, audio-visual-tactile-gustatory-olfactory.

This universal orchestral choral trumpets furiously a notion,
Whether staccato or vibrato, this life is a symphony in motion.

🎶💞🎵💗🎹

🙃Language 🤗Shanguage

Substandard

Substandard. Who? I mean wh…! Right there is a very presumptuous word. I would say this word is also very troublesome or even limiting.
I knowww, its human nature to define, categorize, and compare! But, but … y’know!

Still, who defines the standard? And then judges that it is less of that! People in a family can have mutually agreeable definitions. People at work, in society use the word, too.

What about relationships, hobbies, and generally simple joys people have? Individual definitions of standards and substandards can cause a whollotta mischief!

You are doing your best possible at this stage in life! I dont believe it is substandard unless you set an unrealistic dream goal.
Good moments and low moments are just like rolling hills, you’ll walk them away, and will be proud of what you learned on the journey.
Maybe you saw or did something else on the way?

Entirely different!
How beautiful?!
Courageous!
Wow!

Hi! Meet Mirth!

Soil

Soil: Leave me alone!
Man: I paid for you. And I must put you to work for me.
Soil: You have used and confused me enough with chemicals!
Man: I will farm one more year and then you are free.
Soil: Ok. That sounds reasonable enough.

Observer: Man and Soil work with each other for another year. Both outdo their efforts and leave no stone unturned!
Man returns the loan and puts his profits to a business after selling the land. Soil is happy to have done her best in giving.

Soil: Finally, I can rest. I’m so glad Man is keeping his promise. But where has he disappeared?

Observer: There’s a new owner, Mantwo, a poor old gardener who had worked for many people in the city. He had to struggle to save for several decades to buy this piece of land. All his lifes’ savings were gone and not much was left to build. He wanted to grow vegetables and fruits and make a dream garden of his own for which all his previous employers had offered plants from their homes on his retirement.

Soil got the rest she needed because Man was gone and though she’d missed working with Man, she had not missed his greed. Mantwo had come after a few months. Soil was scared!

Mantwo: He looked, poked, and dug around. He drew lines in the earth and danced and sang to himself with joy.

Soil remained silent and scared, but was amused with Mantwo’s antics. He seemed friendly but was strangely silent between dancing and singing. His lines became sure and deep and some areas were dug up. He softened the earth with his bare hands.

Soil: Welcome, Sir! Please be kind. I need a little more rest before I give you my best.

Mantwo: Sure, no problem, let me add some natural manure and compost to nourish you during your restful phase.
I can build my cottage in the meantime. And he did.

Soil: Thank you, she said, and liking his voice and hardworking nature agreed to give him one try before she gave up on her renewing abilities, only to crack open all her stressed out fault lines.

Mantwo: He built his sweet little house nice and strong. He put in more work than he took out. He used friendly techniques and materials for nourishing the fields.

Soil: Now very curious, was ready and waiting with a good vibes about this new gardener.

Mantwo: Can I begin now? I must build to feed myself, and grow beautiful flowers to make you the most beautiful garden in town!

Soil: Oooh! I like you already! But I’m so old and worn out … I dont know if i can give that much because … and told Mantwo her story.

Mantwo: Cried bucketfuls of tears into the earth and asked for forgiveness from “Mother Earth!”

Soil: She soaked it all in and swelled with pride. “This is a true Son of the Soil!” she exclaimed with joy.

Mantwo: He got every animal manure and made a plan for rotational farming. He made an elaborate plan for a balanced garden where plants and weeds could complement each others’ nutrients and protection instincts.

He watered every day, as he sang to the earth, seeds, sun, and trees. He made sculptures when she wanted rest. And made dancing fountains to express their joy, together, to share with visitors.

Observer: Next year saw mother earth blossom and swoon with joy. They came one by one, from far and wide, and then in throngs. Within three years, Mantwo had to set up a ticket booth to control influx of the crowds.

Soil: She giggled in the breeze like a happy little school girl.

Mantwo: He called ‘their’ garden, Mirth, My Earth!

Observer: No more scared, soil felt Sacred!

Wonder-full Brain!

The Wheels in our mind go round and profound,
Watch it! They can also astound and be unsound.

The dendrites and dendrons make a Delta web,
and our thoughts flow into oceanic depths;
attracting experiences like a roving Magnet,
that make-break our dreams in the wishing net.

Meditate or silence, take a healthy brain Snack,
Calm the tsunami within or face own wrath.

Share, play, create, Scamper around,
Together make beautiful, the earth surround.

Fill the Dash between birth and death with
thought-ful words, simple and loving for all.

With this amazing mind – body joint venture,
Lets set Sail on a Wonder-full adventure!

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Pic credits: Google search on key words from poem. Craft project: own.

Tolerance Radiates, Intolerance does too!

“Tolerance Radiates love and peace, whereas, Intolerance radiates anger and bloodshed.Thinkinkadia.

One day, I was driving slow on a right turn and did not pick up much speed because within two hundred yards, there was another right turn. And then I was in a busy shopping complex, so maintained a low speed till I parked.

It was the first day of winter break, and we had decided to go to a park for a walk and breakfast. As my family was ready to step out, I heard a honk and a man signaling me to step out.

I did and the man started yelling about my driving skills and how I was deliberately going too slow. Right away the teacher mind kicks in, so I do not defend myself and I just listen to him.

When he paused, I answered, that there was a posted speed limit and I thought I was within that.

When people are angry, they repeat the same thing over and over, till the steam runs out. So I listened, apologized for the inconvenience. Finally, he said something less angry, but just enough to hint that he was grumpy and not giving in.

That’s when I decided to end it Infused with love and respect. I said, “Sir, I have heard you, understood you, explained to you, and apologized. (Pause) Have a wonderful day and I wish you a Merry Christmas.”

After absorbing all that I tripped on my dogs leash within two minutes of getting my family from the car, dislocated my thumb, and spent a packet getting it fixed. One month of healing and a small price to pay for Peace.
I chose it as a safer option versus a potential social Detonate-ing experience.

Q: When you meet an angry person, what do you hear?

Unmoored @ Peace

“Is being unmoored a reason to be insecure, a season for growth, an opportunity for learning about the new shore, or a moment of facing our fears? I believe, all of the above.” Thinkinkadia.

Do you see the new shore as a planet or continent or simply, the other side of the street you live on?

Point is one can feel unmoored without tea or coffee, phone or car keys; or one could literally be unmoored in a classroom full of unwilling learners; or hungry with a kitchen full of supplies; or in a boat, amidst a storm, on the other side of Nicobar islands, where tribals make you a pin-cushion of arrows before you land.

Taking the last example further, congratulations to the tribals for meeting their basic human needs and succeed in overcoming their unknown, YOU!

Now, if you study the unknown to get familiar with, then you can be exploring or even looking forward to a reason to be insecure, a season for growth, an opportunity for learning about the new shore, or a moment of facing the silly old fear.

Try it on a small situation from your routine life and catch yourself smiling😉 It does get better after a few practice runs, doesn’t it😄🎵 Tell me about your experiment!

Enjoy the temporary phases of making the ❓Unknown, Known💚!

🗣Go For It! GET Unmoored

Fittest Revive Over the Precipice!

Precipice

Fully conscious and deserving are you,
make your mistakes, with abandon enjoy;
Guided by power of insight anew-
Try out ideas, courage to toy.

Have faith in your abilities,
Build the skills to create, every day.
Sway not by riches, nor nitty-gritties;
Create in dreams, that you doth play.

No need to care, or gingerly tread,
around the proud, overconfident.
Do the needful, you mustn’t dread-
Work awardless, regardless; make that dent.

In this world, ring in justice
for people whose struggles are true.
Hang not over life’s precipice-
Let survival remain of the fittest few.

To Mothers, Care, and Nurturing

Final

I’m at my wits end about money spinning doctors. The purpose of care stems from selflessness. I believe its most effective too, when it is done from nurturing spirit, like that of a Mother, especially Mother Nature.

I do understand overhead expenses on the infrastructure and technology needed to support the doctors offices for giving care. But, why must non-business people have to pay for their fancy perks?
Considering that we all have professions which need our time, study, skill, and sacrifice. Every skill is important but society judges payment based on popularity of skill set, or supply and demand. A useless numbers game?
None of this logic appeals to teaching or artists. People know it is a giving spirit that does these jobs, so it is literally expected that they do the job for less. And for people who want to keep things simple, nurturing, and giving, it is even less so.
Unless you are greedy for money, or have a brand name, you must not be good enough in your ability to teach or produce artwork?
At the same time, it is very heartening to know, that it is still possible to find people who will share their skill ‘just like that’, spontaneously, simply because you expressed interest. Two years ago, in one trip, I learned how to make a simple leather bag and decorate a leather journal for free, on the spur of the moment, from two giving artists/small business operators. Not that I had to start a business, but because it’s amazing what people can do and I’d like to do it atleast once.
There are places you can find giving people, but it’s a membership, affiliation, association, board of directors, and push for enrollment thing. And that works well, except there’s money involved at some level; either hopes, aspirations, investment, numbers enrolled, or classes.
There some Doctors who will do good in other countries and go above and beyond, in helping human beings just because it is the right thing to do. That is rather an exception, than the rule.
I cannot speak for them, just myself. I try to teach from the spirit, without greed, for the good of, but firm on my expectations from students. No exchange of material things to generate love or reinforce good behaviour. I’m not sure it’s enough, so I just keep plugging along.
Finally, I would like to €mpha$ize dental care: don’t bite off more than you can chew. 😄Flo$£ Dail¥! All traditional knowledge has now been officially trashed by modern trained doctors who will convince you the only thing for you is to get treatment right away from them or people they refer you to.
Being subjected to their wisdom, tools, sales tactics and bills right now😉! Time to test creativity on practical matters. Please excuse my absence until things get better.

On Mother’s Day, I pray for those mothers and children: who are not educated, who understand less of the commercial powers of the world, and who struggle to survive on this same Mother Earth.
Happy Mother’s Day to All!