A CELEBRATION OF THE 300th POSTING ON MY BLOG- MILESTONES: THE JOURNEY CONTINUES

 

Painting by Maitreyi

A CELEBRATION OF THE 300th POSTING ON MY BLOG

MILESTONES: THE JOURNEY CONTINUES

As the year 2024 nears its end, I sit back to reflect on my journey as a writer. It has given me fulfillment and satisfaction that I have been able to say what I wanted, an outlet for my feelings, views, and explorations into territories that had eluded me before. I now await the dawn of a New Year to venture into fresher pastures. But before that, on reaching a milestone of 300 posts on my blog, I seek to share with my readers and seek their indulgence to undertake the journey along with me, for after all, it is they who have pushed me from milestone to milestone.  

A long-felt desire came true when I created this blog fifteen years ago in October 2009 and named it SUBLIMATION. For me, it meant merging with greatness, an expanse beyond compare, beyond beauty, transcendental; and Sublimation, the process of becoming sublime. Did I hope to achieve this by expressing my thoughts, feelings, reactions, and relationships? Was it going to be a mirror reflecting the distortions that I had failed to see, recognize, and accept? Time will tell. There were too many questions to start with-

What do I write? How will I sustain the flow? If I am to to put myself in the public domain will I be able to pull myself out of my personal space?  

When I first became active on my blog it was more of an inward journey and more for myself. However, a few inputs from some of my well-wishers made me realize that when I write something that I place in the public domain, it has to have a certain interest to the reader. I was and am interested in people reading what I write. A valuable input came from one of my friends. He said “You write well but most of it is philosophical excursions, the only thing I can say is that I like them by way of comments but that does not really mean anything. With your varied interests, you should be able to write on things which the reader can connect with”. I took him seriously and changed my approach. I found in the process that I could explore all those things that I have been passionately interested in like art – painting, and music. I found that slowly the number of page views increased and I knew that I was now connecting.  I also found that there is a joy in sharing, a satisfaction of a need to be understood, and a need for adulation. This is especially true of any creation that is put up in the public domain for consumption. 

In an earlier post of mine ‘In Need Of Appreciation’ I mentioned that the reason why the need for sharing arises is the same as the reason you start conversations: to connect with the people who may resonate with you. Therefore appreciation and feedback, even a critical one... anything that starts a dialogue is most welcome.

It is important to set a goal for oneself, for that is what makes you move forward. I had never really set myself a goal, it just happened. When I realized that over a period of four years, I had reached that figure of a hundred postings, it gave me satisfaction and confidence that I could write. When I wrote my 100th post on 20th February 2013, I called it ‘A Celebration of my 100th Posting’. Yes, it indeed was a celebration for it was the first milestone in my journey as a writer.   It was on the way, on that journey, that I started seeing and experiencing things that I had never really understood before. I saw things with a new perspective, a perspective that had been sharpened by the experiences on the way.

Three years later in March 2016, I celebrated once again when I reached the 200th post and called it a ‘Celebration of Life’.  During this period I also managed to complete my first two books. Perhaps it was my most productive time, another milestone in my journey as a writer.

During this period, I came across two amazing books that played a large part in my development as a writer and helped me become a published author from a mere blogger – ‘On Writing’ by Stephen King and ‘Fallen Leaves’ by Will Durant. I learned from Stephen King that “If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot. There’s no way around these two things that I’m aware of, no shortcut. Good writing teaches the learning writer about style, graceful narration, plot development, the creation of believable characters, and truth-telling. We read to experience the mediocre and the outright rotten; such experience helps us to recognize those things when they begin to creep into our own work and to steer clear of them. We also read in order to measure ourselves against the good and the great, to get a sense of all that can be done. And we also read to experience different styles.” 

To this day I fall back upon Will Durant and it becomes more relevant as you age and the years pass you by. Fallen Leaves is considered his most personal book and the last, presenting his own opinions on the major problems of life, politics, religion, and society. I have taken the liberty to reproduce  from the Preface to the book where he writes-

“Vanity increases with age. Here I am, going on ninety-five; by this time I should have learned the art of silence, and should realize that every educated reader has already heard all opinions and their opposites; yet here I set out, fearful and rash, to tell the world – or one hundred millionth of it – just what I think on everything. It is all the more ridiculous since at my age, a man is deeply rooted in the ways or views of his youth, and is almost constitutionally incapable of understanding the changing world that assails him, and from which he tends to flee into the grooves of the past or the safety of his home.” 

It has taken me eight more years to reach this next milestone of three hundred postings. It has not given me the same elation as earlier though I did publish two more books keeping to my time schedule of one every two years, but it is now four years since I wrote ‘The Diary of Mrityunjay’ and the promised sequel is only partially done. There has been a perceptible slowing down, especially after 2020 and I recognize that. Maybe I can no longer run, but still capable of pushing my way to the next milestone, and like Durrant says, I am also learning the art of Silence.

Now, when I am on the verge of reaching the next milestone in my journey of 300 postings with more than 1,30,000 page views, I pause to reflect on what I have seen and experienced, what I have understood of life, and what it means to live. I ask myself whether it is vanity that forces me to write. Maybe it is there in some measure, but to be truthful I have found that my writing is a mirror I hold in front to understand the lessons that life has taught me. It has taught me that each day is a celebration. As you wake up to see the sun streaming through the windows and you stretch your limbs re-enacting the very process of being born again and living one more day, it is a CELEBRATION. 

As I reflect on my journey as a writer I feel indebted to all those authors and their books for having shown me the way whenever I faced a wall. I find it necessary to list here the learning points and processes I underwent while reading them, especially Stephen King’s ON WRITING and Will Durant’s ‘FALLEN LEAVES’ 

1. The need to arrive at a comprehensive view of life through my own and the lives of others has been my inspiration. I see stories in every person I meet and every place I visit, and they inspire me.

2. When I look back at the road I have traveled, I keep discovering those little joys, some sadness, successes, failures, and questions about life.   

3. All writers undergo the same process – an idea, giving it form, writing it down, reading, editing, re-reading, re-editing, and the final product. It is an iterative process until you are satisfied that you have nearly put down what you wanted.

4. Research becomes an integral part when you write across different locations and timelines.

5. The most fulfilling aspect of writing is the ability to translate emotions, ideas, and perceptions, which are intangibles, into words. It is an outlet for your imagination and a world of your own where you are the creator. 

6. Imagery is an essential part of storytelling. I have relied on it to capture the mind of the reader and enhance his reading experience so that he can visualize the setting on which the story is based. To give an idea, let me reproduce a passage from my book ‘The Diary of Mriyunjay’-‘For two days I had watched the Himalayan heights through a veil of mist and sheets of rain from the common verandah on the first floor of the lodge where I was staying’. It was necessary to build up this imagery as a precursor to the disaster that follows. The other type of imagery that I have used in my books is by way of dreams. The main purpose has been to take the reader through the dreamlike state to the reality of the present. The river has been used extensively in the book as symbolic of the flow of our life and destiny. The river plays an important role in the book. The creative force of its serenity and the destructive nature of its turbulence on its journey to merge with the ocean are but allegorical representations of our journey through life. 

Before I end this post,  let me wish everyone out there and their families  A WONDERFUL 2025- FULL OF HAPPINESS, FULFILLMENT, PROSPERITY, PEACE, AND GOOD HEALTH.

Acknowledgements:

The Theme painting DRAGONFLY is by my daughter Maitreyi

The symbolism of the Dragonfly has been taken from https://dragonfly.org/the-symbolism-biology-and-lore-of-dragonflies Source - The Symbolism, Biology and Lore of Dragonflies -The dragonfly, in almost every part of the world symbolizes change and change in the perspective of self realization; and the kind of change that has its source in mental and emotional maturity and the understanding of the deeper meaning of life. 

THE DIARY OF MRITYUNJAY-PART TWO- A GLIMPSE

 

THE DIARY OF MRITYUNJAY-PART TWO
A GLIMPSE

With 2024 nearing its end, I am hoping that I will be able to complete Part 2 of ‘The Diary of Mrityunjay’ in 2025 and I hope I shall keep up this resolution, unlike others which have fallen by the wayside. I knew I had a promise to keep- Mrityunjay had given a glimpse of a sequel at the end of the book and this is where I restarted, to maintain the continuity and make it easier for the reader to connect. While I have already posted the Preface on my blog some time ago, I thought I would give a glimpse of a portion of the prologue to create some interest among my readers. I have included some portions from the Epilogue to the first book ‘The Diary of Mrityunjay’ to ensure continuity to Part 2 and help the reader connect.

DIARY OF MRITYUNJAY - PART 2

PROLOGUE

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way. –Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities,

They were difficult times. They were testing times. It was surreal; I thought that this was the stuff one reads in books and sees in movies: of future catastrophes and the race to save mankind from decimation.  Decades ago I read Albert Camus’s allegorical novel ‘The Plague’, which tells the story of a plague sweeping the French Algerian city of Oran. It asks a number of questions relating to the nature of destiny and the human condition. A passage from the book reads -

Everybody knows that pestilences have a way of recurring in the world; yet somehow we find it hard to believe in ones that crash down on our heads from a blue sky. There have been as many plagues as wars in history, yet always plagues and wars take people equally by surprise.

My thoughts went back to Mrityunjay and the words from his book The Diary of Mrityunjay resonated -

‘It’s normal to feel ‘fear’. The fear of extinction is very strong. We are afraid that we may be wiped out before our search is over without finding an answer to this riddle called life. The instinct for survival is predominant in all of us and we are always in search of different ways and means to ensure we continue to survive.’

2020 happened leaving behind a deep scar on our collective psyche. I was sure that the long silences of Mrityunjay were because the scar would have further ignited his passion for exploration, understanding the effect of the calamity, and what his role would be in alleviating the misery. That’s how he was.

It was the beginning of a new year; 2022 started off on a more promising note, not that the calamities of 2020 which carried over to 2021 had completely subsided, but there was hope that the worst was over and now there was mobility and the vaccine program seemed to have had considerable effect. Still the more prudent of us did not dispense with the basic rules of social distancing and wearing masks. 

The last time I met Mrityunjay was in November 2019 when he came to Chennai. Thereafter, we did keep in touch through occasional phone calls. But in 2020 and subsequently, there were long periods of silence which soon petered out into no communication. I knew people were picking up the pieces of their life that lay scattered and putting them back together again. 

Through the year 2021, though there were a few calls and emails from him, these soon petered out. I did not hear from him for more than a year. I wondered whether he had once again gone away as was his wont in search of something elusive. I had reckoned that he had settled down to his rediscovered life, but you could not say anything definitive about him, for that was who he was, calm outside but a restless spirit inside.

That’s for now, friends.

WISHING YOU ALL AND YOUR FAMILIES A GREAT, HEALTHY, HAPPY AND FULFILLING 2025

THE ROAD TRAVELED - MILESTONES - A JOURNEY OF LIFE’S LESSONS- PART 7

 

THE ROAD TRAVELED - MILESTONES

A JOURNEY OF LIFE’S LESSONS- PART 7

When I published my first book, ‘I Am Just An Ordinary Man,’ a decade ago,in 2014, it was as if I had foreseen where the path would lead. I think it fit to reproduce here the first few lines of Chapter 3 (Sublimation) of the book-

‘My movements have slowed down over the years. I recognize that. My walks have become shorter in distance and in time. It is normal I guess, as one grows older. But it is when my daughter tells me, “Papa, you have started forgetting things” that I start to ask myself what is wrong. You see I used to be absent-minded before, but that was my normal state and it was accepted as a part of the person I was. But now they think this is serious for they fear I have started suffering memory loss. I was going through what I had written twenty years ago and recalled what my daughter said then, about my being in la la land or in other words in dreamland. Even I had accepted that I was a dreamer. “But wasn’t I always like that?” I asked her. She replied “No, then you consciously avoided remembering things, because you did not pay attention to what was happening around. Now things do not register in your mind even when you are actively there.’

A decade has elapsed since then, and now I find myself again sitting on a milestone staring at the path ahead. It happened then also and I had chosen the path less travelled. I then had the courage and the energy to push forward and explore and find answers which had been eluding me, to the questions which had been pushed to the background.  Though the first stirrings occurred five decades ago when the existential question of ‘Who am I’ arose prompted by the teachings of Ramana Maharishi and perhaps due to my stepping into untested waters after graduation and what lay ahead, I settled slowly into a normal life, a pattern familiar and secured. The questions of identity were pushed aside for I thought I had found mine - a normal man, well settled, married, and a family. Though there were periods of discontent and an evaluation of one’s worth, these were not serious enough to make me deviate from the normal. 

That was the first crossroads I encountered and I chose the well-traveled one. And, after that, it was the straight road I stuck to, pausing here and there at milestones, to gaze at what I had left behind and with it a part of myself. But that was the process of traveling towards goals which appeared to be shifting every time I thought I had reached one. Not that I did not encounter further crossroads, but they were inconsequential given my desire to move ahead and a reluctance to move away from the normal.

It happened in 2010 when the first break from the normal happened when I retired, veering away and rejoicing in newfound freedom, looking ahead at a new normal. But that didn’t happen. Soon, the stirrings that had occurred nearly four decades ago reappeared - the same existential questions. This time I had the choice to explore or continue as I was. And I chose to explore. So I slowly moved away from the milestone where I had rested for a while towards the road less traveled. 

My explorations were translated through my writings, first through my blog and then my books.  That is how my first book happened- an inner exploration and an evaluation of what I was. The first few lines of the book are indicative of the state of my mind -

“Sir, you asked me who I am. What shall I say? I have been

asking myself this question for quite some time and reached

Nowhere.”

‘I Am Just An Ordinary Man’ was a journey to understand the questions that arose out of the angst of existence and finally to accept the reality of living and the finality of death. It was the world as I saw it; it was my world. I also believed that these were questions that plagued every other individual. 

I learned a lot from interacting and observing the world outside my being without being judgmental. ‘Darkness and Beyond- A Medley of Many Lives’ was a journey into the external world, being part of a larger process of experiencing, understanding, and acceptance. Each chapter is a slice of life, in search of a meaning that would define existence; in search of the ‘Beyond’ of this ‘Darkness’. It has been a journey, an exploration of life in its many facets, taking me closer to a better understanding of what this life is all about,  Hope.

An inconsequential meeting with an old man turned into a meaningful relationship. In ‘The Old Man and I – Darkness and Beyond’, the old man accepts his transition through the twilight zone of his life with equanimity, spurred on by the hope that there is after all something beyond this approaching darkness; the dawn of a new life beyond - ‘I do not know what lies beyond, but since light fades into darkness and the darkness melts away with the dawn of a new morning, I believe that there does exist something beyond this darkness and that is the hope I carry with me.’

 

The reality of aging and loneliness is predominant, the younger generation moving still further away and the older ones slowly learning to cope with being by themselves. In ‘Autumn Leaves-Seasons of Life,’ I explored the reality of the disintegration of families from what was once a joint one with a ruling patriarch and the other members strewn around not far away, to single units ultimately spread out in far and distant lands; the slow but perceptible shifting away in distance and relationships and acceptance of which as a reality was unalterable. 

It was then that Mrityunjay happened. I paused between milestones to re-evaluate my life and try to move forward towards resolving the angst that had all the while enveloped me. It was Mrityunjay who taught me,  what it is to live and what it is to love, content in the knowledge that life is not only gathering knowledge of the self but that there is a deeper purpose that embraces humanity and giving back in the form of service, compassion, and empathy. ‘The Diary of Mrityunjay’ is a journey of self-discovery. It was my journey within, that manifested itself in Mrityunjay.

That was four years ago and ever since I have been languishing at a crossroads again. A certain listlessness and inertia had crept in. And now today, as I sit on this milestone contemplating, I have been asked ‘What happened to Mriyunjay?’ by people who have followed my explorations, that it dawned on me that the journey of Mrityunjay had to continue for life with its infinite possibilities never stops and the road never really ends.

I recollect a passage from Will Durant’s book ‘Fallen Leaves’ - “I know that life is in its basis a mystery; a river flowing from an unseen source and in its development an infinite subtlety; a ‘dome of many-colored glass’, too complex for thought, much less for utterance.” 

OF IDLI, SAMBHAR, AND CHUTNEYS

 

OF IDLI, SAMBHAR, AND CHUTNEYS

“Arrey bhai,”I heard a voice calling out from behind me. I turned around wondering whether it was addressed to me. It was a Sardarji sitting behind and he was calling out to the waiter.

“Ek plate idli aur do plate sambhar,” he ordered (One plate Idli and Two plates Sambhar).

That was years ago when I lived in Chembur and breakfasted in Geeta Cafe. That was when an additional plate of sambhar was a bonus and did not cost anything. Things have changed now, the hotels started charging for the additional plate of sambhar. Maybe the realization struck them later that more quantities of sambhar were being consumed than the idlis ordered. Not that any specification was given regarding the amount of sambhar needed to immerse the idli. 

Ever since my post on ‘Samosas and Tomatoes’, it has come to my attention that Samosas sales have increased significantly. In this connection, I was pleasantly surprised when I received a call from the ‘Samosa Seva Sangh’ thanking me profusely for my efforts to promote the sales of samosas. They also added that they were organizing a samosa-eating competition and inviting me to be the chief guest. Of course, I had to politely refuse saying that it would not be possible since I was suffering from indigestion. But like every silver lining has a darker shade, the price of tomatoes shot up and there were complaints that the vegetable vendors were making a fast buck putting the entire blame on the shortage of supply of tomatoes in the market. Discreet inquiries revealed that there was no shortage but an increase in demand. I was told this had happened because some bloke had come out with a new recipe for substituting Gulab Jamuns with Sugary Tomatoes, a cheaper, healthier, and tastier option. You guessed it, I kept my mouth shut.

Pardon me for veering away from what I started with. Now coming back to the main topic for today -Idlis, Sambhar, and Chutney, you may wonder why this sudden fascination for all things eatable. Well, for some time now my taste buds have been overreacting to external stimuli of the eatable kind and I am sure you are also in the same boat, going by the reactions I received for my last post. You may ask why Idli, Sambhar, and Chutney. Well, I had them for breakfast today(at home of course).

Well, my affair with Idlis goes back a long time to my childhood. We lived in Visakhapatnam in Andhra Pradesh at that time. I was a kid nine years old and you know that is the time of your first growing up(the second time would be the teens), that is when you get into scraps at school with bullies who would try to bulldoze you by calling you names( a nicer name for abuse) and taunting you. So it was, that I was called ‘Idli Sambhar’ by a Telugu-speaking classmate who thought that was the ultimate insult forgetting that most of their ilk would be at Mani’s Cafe having Idli Sambhar. But to this date, I have not understood why they should do that when it was also the staple diet in their homes (in fact when I am in Hyderabad I would go to Chutneys and order for Guntur Idli. Well more of that later). So I came home and asked my brother who was much older to me why we were called Idli Sambhar. He laughed and said, “Next time he calls you that, you respond by calling him ‘Gongura Chutney’ and he will shut up”.  For the ignorant and that includes me,  Gongura chutney is a chutney made out of Gongura leaves. That doesn’t tell you much, so I had to seek the help of my Wikipedia( in case you are confused this is as I am writing all this) and this is what he had to say - Smaller Gongura leaves offer a mild green and tangy flavor, whereas more mature specimens are robust and acrid. Warm temperatures also affect the taste of the leaf because the hotter it gets, the sourer the leaf will taste. Well, I am not going to waste precious writing space describing a chutney. So you get the hang of it?

And so it was, armed with a fresh weapon of my choice ‘Gongura Chutney’ I took on all the predators, till we called for peace and and sealed the issue at Mani’s Cafe with Idli, Sambhar, and of course Gongura Chutney.

Well coming back to the Idli and Sambhar issue, as you travel far down south from Chennai, you are served Idlis (of course Dosas and Vadas included along with Pongal) on banana leaves placed before you. Then the server comes with a bucket of Sambhar and with a ladle pours it over your Idli generously. Though you are thankful for the generosity, you spend half the time ensuring that the Sambhar does not run out of the banana leaf. But like our Sardar friend would say this takes away the pleasure of seeing Idli sink in a plate of Sambhar and after you finish eating your Idli you can drink the plate of Sambhar and savour its taste.

As for the Idli itself, they come in various levels of hardness. The thicker and harder ones will sink to the bottom of the Sambhar and do not go easy on the palate. The softer, fluffier ones are the best and taste much better, and of course, they drink more Sambhar than you. And you end up eating more of the idlis. It all comes down to the proportion of idli rice and lentils(urad dal) in the batter mix and how well it is ground to a paste in the grinder. Not everyone gets the proportions right. And like every time I never fail to acknowledge that my wife gets it right (After all, like I mentioned in my previous post, she is a good cook, and also I know she will be reading this post). I guess that the hotels would have standardized the procedure. But I have given you the thumb rule to distinguish a good idli from a bad one.

My wife does not relish the ready made batter Idlis (Idli dosa batters are available at all stores). She says they are for people who do not have the time or do not want to put in the effort. And then she will go into the economics of making the idli at home (but we cannot deny that we do enjoy going out to a restaurant and ordering a plate of idli accompanied by Sambhar and chutneys, the added advantage is that the Sambhar is also brought in a separate stainless steel cup so that you can drink it if you missed pouring on the Idli).

Though now we have Rava Idli, Semiya Idli, Oats Idli, Ragi Idli etc being served, there is nothing to beat the good old white and a perfect circular shaped Idli which would sink into the Sambhar. But I should acknowledge that with other accompaniments like Coconut chutney, Mint chutney, tomato Chutney, It tastes just as great. But the Mulagai Podi (Chilly Powder, which some refer to as gunpowder) made at home beats them all. A paste of Mulagai Podi and til oil evenly spread over the idly, a batch of six to eight idlis pressed into a box and which you can eat anytime you want. In fact when we went visiting Disney land, my cousin brought a huge pile of them. That is what we had and relished there at lunchtime. Yummy! they were delicious (I could have called it Idlis at Disneyland). When in Hyderabad do not miss to eat Guntur Idli - a copious spread of Chilly Powder and Ghee. Wow! Tasted excellent. Mini Idlis is another great option, six or seven of them floating in a pool of Sambhar. Great sight, great taste.

Well having spoken so much about Idlis I cannot ignore the Sambhar. They have their own avatars - Vengai Sambhar(Onion Sambhar), Murungakai Sambhar(Drumstick Sambhar), Mulangi Sambhar(Radish Sambhar), Each with its own flavor and taste. Well take your pick.

You may ask why I am so obsessed with Idlis. For one I had them for breakfast today and a another compelling reason -

“Idlis are a preferred choice for health-conscious individuals due to their low-fat and calorie content. They make for a light and nutritious meal that can be enjoyed guilt-free. Moreover, the absence of saturated fats in idlis makes them heart-friendly, contributing to a well-balanced diet”.

After my first post on Samosas and Tomatoes, there have been requests for - Parattas and Potatoes, Cabbages and Cauliflowers, Fafda and Jalebis, and so on. May be I shall explore further.

However, right now it is midnight 27th July 2024 and I am feeling hungry. Maybe I shall make a tomato sandwich (my wife will come to know only in the morning since she is already asleep)

So till next time with the hope that there will be a surge in demand for Idlis, Good night.

OF SAMOSAS AND TOMATOES

 

OF SAMOSAS AND TOMATOES

Let me start with a disclaimer ‘This post is strictly vegetarian, and that's why I shall not be talking about Sausages. In any case, I do not eat sausages or anything non-vegetarian. Maybe once I did. But the aging process has not allowed my palate to succumb to its beckonings. See though I started with a disclaimer I still talk about it. But why this sudden fascination for samosas and tomatoes you may ask. Well, like you, I have also wondered. Maybe it’s because I found that samosas can be equally spicy and tomatoes can be juicy. Though I always knew, it was only yesterday that it was reaffirmed. And how, you may ask again. That‘s a long story. If you have the patience then read on.

It all started with a dream in the afternoon, and let me tell you that afternoon dreams can be quite weird. But in any case, I do fall asleep in the afternoon after eating a sumptuous lunch prepared by my wife (mind you she is a good cook). This of course is a daily routine(story). Whatever it is, when I take my position on the couch to relax after all that effort to watch some inane serials on the TV my eyelids droop, and the sheer effort needed to keep them open to make out what is happening on the screen was not worth the additional effort. It is when my head starts rocking and eerie sounds emanate (your guess is as good as mine from where) that my wife sitting next to me would shake me up (literally) and say “Why don’t you go to the bedroom stretch out and have a good sleep. At least I can watch the TV uninterrupted by your snoring.” So off I would go and do as instructed.

That’s what happened two days ago. I hit the bed and the next thing I knew I was in the midst of a party where a conglomeration of my close friends and colleagues had gathered. Taken by surprise, I found a chair next to a very close friend of mine and sat down. Let’s call him R, for you never know whether he would take umbrage in being the subject of a dream. So I asked him-

“Boss, what’s happening here?”

“What’s happening? Have you forgotten? Today we are having a Samosa party and I thought you were never going to land up. It’s closing time now.”

“What Samosa party? I don’t remember being invited,” I replied.

“Come on, I also rang you up this morning and reminded you of this get-together. Boss you are growing old,” he replied.

“So are you,” I said, “anyway tell me why do you say Samosa party?”

“Don’t you remember that this is our Batch Reunion get-together? We thought we would do something different when someone hit upon the idea of a Samosa party where we could recall our bygone years and what lies in store and eat samosas. It’s a sort of stock-taking. They even asked who all were participating so that they could order enough samosas. You had also confirmed. You know there is this famous Samosawala from Jhumrithalaiya whose samosas have made it to the Guinness Book. With a lot of cajoling, he accepted our order (usually he does not accept anything below 1000 samosas per order). We had somehow managed to extend our order to 500 samosas.”

“Ok, since I have already landed here, I might as well have some samosas,” I said.

“Sorry boss, it appears that the samosas have finished. You were too late, The get-together is now coming to an end. Better luck next time. In any case, you may come over to my house in Chembur. There is a shop in front of my place where you get the best Vada Pavs in Mumbai,” R apologetically replied.

Suddenly I felt someone shaking me up again. It was my wife.

“You have been sleeping for the last two hours, it is now 4.30 in the evening, time for your evening walk,” She said and went into the kitchen to make coffee.

But the real story begins now. Last evening around 4 pm when I had just shaken myself from my afternoon slumber, I felt an irresistible urge to eat samosas. The previous day's hangover had carried over to the next day only this time it was not a dream. Maybe because my wishes had remained unfulfilled in the last day’s dream. But that’s how all my dreams have been, I would end up missing the bus or l am left searching for something I could never identify. It would all be incomplete. That’s what happened to the samosas.  So I decided to ring up my friend R and tell him about the dream. You can imagine my surprise when he said-

“But Subbu, I was at a party yesterday afternoon and I did have samosas. A few of us had got together for lunch.”

Well, that was the last straw. But how did the samosas creep into my dream? Maybe, as Freud would say it is a disguised fulfillment of a repressed wish. I would disagree since there were no samosas left and hence no fulfillment. So I sought to take refuge in what Carl Jung had to say “If we meditate on a dream sufficiently long and thoroughly, if we carry it around with us and turn it over and over, something almost always comes of it”.

Since I did not want to carry over my repressed wish to my next dream, I decided that come what may, I would have them that evening. So I walked over to the snack stall near my house to get them. Imagine my disappointment when I was told that the samosas were over but they had excellent Kachoris. For a while, I stood there staring at the waiter when I remembered what Jung had said that something always comes out of it. If it be so, I said to myself ‘let it be Kachoris’, so I told him to pack a dozen of them and took it home.

“I thought you were going to get samosas and now you have a dozen kachoris. Do you intend to eat all of them?” my wife asked.

“No, no, you can also have some of them,” I said

“Well I am sure you are still going to dream of samosas tonight,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

Well, that was not the end of it. The kachoris had disappeared and it was late at night. The wife had gone to sleep. I felt a sudden urge once again, only this time to have something sweet before going to bed, preferably gulab jamun. I knew that it was not possible as I heard the clock chime 12 am.

That’s when I tip-toed to the Fridge, a clandestine operation since I did not wish to wake up my wife. And there they were red and round as I reached out to take two tomatoes ( If you have been wondering when the tomatoes will make their appearance It was now). I cut them into slices and garnished them with sugar. 

To tell you the truth, that night the tomatoes were tastier than the Gulab Jamuns. 

That night I did not have any dreams. The Kachoris and the tomatoes had done the trick.

On second thoughts I think I should have titled this post - ‘Of Samosas and Gulab Jamuns and Kachoris and Tomatoes