The First Meeting (Ponnu Pakkal)

This is a story of three brides and how they met their grooms. Based on true incidents.

Chandrashekarapuram Village, Kerala, 1977

My father had retired and shifted to his hometown in Chandrashekarapuram, this was a quaint village. The kind of scenic beauty that you usually saw in paintings. We had recently attended a wedding in our neighborhood and one of the ladies there had asked my mother if they were searching for a groom for me, she said it was for her brother who was an engineer and was working in Ranchi. She took my horoscope with her when she left.

One of her maternal uncle was staying in our nearby village, she along with the uncle visited my house after matching the horoscope at their end. Her father had passed away a few years back so her uncle and aunt had undertaken the responsibility of her brothers marriage proceeding. They enquired about us and the family which was the norm. Later they returned back and said they would write back if they were coming with the groom for "Ponnu Pakkal".

It was like any other day, father and I had gone to the temple, it was already past lunchtime and I was beginning to get hungry. When we reached the house I was surprised to see the number of people lined up inside. The groom had arrived with all his relatives, uncles, aunts and cousins. They had apparently sent a telegram informing us of their arrival but we never received it. There was only one telephone in our post office for the village to use. My father as usual was calm and did his ritualistic cleaning of hands and feet before entering the house. 

All houses in our village is of similar structure more or less. Map is as follows:

I saw everyone, gave a pleasant smile and went to the kitchen to have my lunch first. I could not change from my brown saaree as I had to cross everyone to reach my set of cupboards. One of his talkative cousins was leading the conversation. The groom asked to speak to me alone, here I heard a slight murmuring in the crowd. This was a bold request as most of the time, there was no talking between the groom and bride before the wedding leave alone time. I glanced at my father, he was unperturbed by the request, he obliged to the shock stares of few.

In the Swing room, we were sitting together. He was wearing red checked shirt and brown pants. I did not glace sideways to meet his eyes, he told me that he was short tempered and if I had a problem with that, for that I answered no. He then said that he was sincere and expected me to be as well which was a surprising comment for me as I felt that everyone would naturally be so. He also stated that he likes to travel and studies a lot for which I said I was okay with.

Soon after that, he consulted with his family and agreed to the marriage and were ready to do the engagement right away since having it on a later date would entail another long journey for them. We all agreed and immediately set to prepare for the occasion. I was soon to be a bride.

Bangalore, 1982

All of it started with my cousin getting married. My father's sister i.e is my aunt stayed just down the road from my house. I was quite a frequent visitor there, I loved spending time with my Manni (Cousin's wife) she was a beautiful and very talented artist. Once while I was visiting, I saw that her parents had come from Delhi to spend time with her. I saw her father sitting on the sofa sipping coffee, I said my dutiful hellos and sped fast to the kitchen to meet Manni, she was busy preparing snacks for everyone. Over the days I became a regular and would often ask Manni's father questions about his studies and he would animatedly explain all about his research. Before they left my father met them and gave them my horoscope, said that if they had any boy suitable for me in mind to pass that information over.

I had been a big fan of Amitabh Bachchan since I could remember, me and my sister used to line up for his movies. I collected several postcards and posters and stuck it all over my room. We used to also get a small booklet containing music lyrics of the movie we were seeing. I enjoyed flipping through and humming the songs. One day Manni's father wrote back, he wanted to match my horoscope with his eldest son i.e Manni's younger brother. His mother was soon to visit on her way to Madras and she would meet me then. My father wrote back saying that he would be pleased if the horoscope matched and if need be, even we could travel to Delhi for the 'Ponnu Pakkal' (Bride seeing).

My parents had a love marriage which was very rare, they had met at a wedding and one thing led to another. Just seeing or talking with the groom was a big event. So many of my relatives had hardly met their halves until the wedding day. So the day soon arrived when Manni's mother visited us. I removed all my posters and postcards off the wall, I thought that it would not give a good impression that the girl adored a movie actor so much. We met during the day, she didn't stay long just exchanged pleasantries and left. Later a day was decided when I was to meet him.

On the day I wore a pale blue saaree, I saw myself a lot of times in the mirror. Manni and her brother were to arrive, my house was full of my maternal grandfather, mother, father, sister and brother. There was a sign of relief that only he and Manni were visiting us. My mother proceeded to make snacks and sweets for everyone which was the custom. When they finally arrived, I tried to catch a glimpse of him. He was sitting next to Manni, a collared shirt and pant. We hardly looked at each other. Everything happened fast, I heard my grandfather tell that the Mappalai looks very handsome. It was already time for him to leave for the airport. Soon an engagement date was fixed over the phone and the wedding was to happen. I was soon to be a bride.

New Delhi, 2011

I had completed my masters in UK and returned home, my father had been constantly pursuing a suitable match for me, but it so happened that none of the prospective grooms clicked with me. We had registered in Tamil Matrimony and the likes. My family had always been open in our upbringing, we had discussed if there was a possibility of love before marriage but that was not on the cards. My parents themselves met in Banglore for just a brief time before getting married. Then followed a tiresome process of selecting grooms and having conversations for over a year until I became quite sick of the process.

My elder sister had met her match through the same matrimony site and had found her perfect half, that's when my story started. My brother in law suggested his cousin brother who was also in search of a bride and since our family was comfortable with theirs already, my father suggested that I also give it a try. The boy seemed decent, a software professional, his parents were settled in Chennai but hailed from a village Chandrasherakapuram, Kerala.

Reluctantly I agreed, I had made up my mind to go back to UK and pursue my Ph.D and take a break from the matrimonial search for a while. Maybe just meet this one boy before I go back. So the day was fixed by my grandmother for the groom to come for meeting me. 

I tried to choose a dress to wear for the day but did not find any suitable one, so I raided my sisters cupboard and picked up a green kurta. So the groom, his parents, and his younger brother came to our house. I was in a room inside. I heard that they had arrived and that his mother was feeling a bit under the weather. I saw her first in the adjacent room, she had eaten something in the flight which did not suit her. I enquired about her health and then proceeded down the corridor.

I saw him standing next to my brother in law. He was wearing a brown jacket with shirt and jeans. A simple man I thought. Next we were all gathered in the living room for general chit chat, here we hardly exchanged a few glances. Later it was decided that I was to go and have lunch with him outside, so we chose a restaurant near our house. I was prepared for an awkward conversation to follow but surprisingly it was very comfortable to speak with him

Over lunch, we discussed our perspectives and expectations. It was an honest conversation. We laughed, discussed and conversed. By the end of the lunch, I had made up my mind. He was the one. Our lunch, however, was pretty long one it lasted around four hours that later I found that everyone back at home was making suggestive jokes about our long disappearance.

They returned back that day to Chennai and the next day we called and confirmed my affirmation for the wedding and they replied with the same. I was soon to be a bride.

Even though these stories move through time, the emotions that one goes through remains the same. How we meet the one we marry is a story to cherish. I am sure it is special for everyone.

Stories Part 2

Coming back to Ikigai, I feel that it truly resonates with what I feel. You should find your center, your core. That might be something that you are good at naturally without making any effort, one that you enjoy and it brings peace to your inner being. Something that contributes to society, makes it a better place and also something that has the potential to be your livelihood. That is the essence of Ikigai as far as I understand. I have met many people who are such a natural when it comes to certain skills, like one of my Aunt, she is a lovely cook blessed with a green thumb, great at organizing parties or social gathering and best in conversing. If I have to guess her Ikigai (which obviously one can do only for themselves, but let's do it hypothetically) I would say that she host her own TV show. She has the grace, talent, and pleasing tone and presence. Maybe this is food for thought, try and find your Ikigai.

Well in continuation of my storytime, I have another story.

This is the year 1969, Brunei. He was an Indian, a Tamilian, a scholar and had landed this posting while his family of five children (The eldest daughter was married) and wife stayed back in Delhi, India. He thought that his hometown Madras would be a better place for them to be, they had relatives there and his family would be better looked after so he sent a letter to his wife stating his concern of them staying in Delhi and asked them to move to Madras. The dutiful wife along with her four children set in action the words written in the letter.

Shortly after moving to Madras, they realized that it was a mistake to move from their comfortable life in Delhi in Lajpat Nagar, this life was very different especially for the children, she knew that they had been raised in Delhi although being Tamil Iyer, they spoke Hindi more fluent and related to the north better. But she had to make it work. The eldest son set out to get his admission in school but the education system demanded that Tamil be one of the elective language and this was a problem, since the schools which did not have this condition also lacked the admission seat. So he returned disappointed and told his mother that he has to return back to Delhi otherwise his whole year would go wasted. It wasn't easy for the other children as well. 

The wife agreed, only he could go back and get things settled there, maybe get their old house back? If she wrote a letter stating her problem of their current situation to her husband, it would take 15 days for it to reach him and another 15 days for his reply. She had to make this decision on her own, so she supported her eldest and wrote a letter and told one of her other sons and daughter to post it.

It was raining hard that day, the brother and sister clutched their mothers very important letter and rushed to the post office, the letter was drenched but they still posted it. It was later received by their father who could not read through the drenched letter and replied asking another legible one.

The eldest reached Delhi only to find that their old flat was already let out to the family. He asked the landlord to let him stay with them until he made arrangements. The landlord suggested him to talk to the tenants and if they are willing to vacate, meanwhile he could adjust with them in his tiny flat. The eldest agreed to sleep in their small corridor next to the staircase. The new tenant said that they would vacate if he can find them another flat in the same complex which would be equivalent to the current rent. This impossible task was the only hope. There was another problem, he had to get his school admission sorted. 

The school headmaster was surprised to see the eldest son back who asked for admission again but that was not possible since all the seats were full, maybe he could apply as an external candidate, he can attend all the classes even though he is not enrolled as a regular student, that was the best he could do at the moment. The eldest son was grateful for this and thanked his headmaster.

Meanwhile the wife had sold all the new furniture that they had purchased for their Madras house and packed her things again, they were all going back to Delhi. The mountain of work that fell upon her by just following her husband's decision to shift was unfathomable. But sometimes she felt that we do certain things because at the time they feel that it is the correct thing to do but the price we pay later is heavy. She was thankful that the eldest son had found a small flat for them to stay till they get their old flat back. After reaching Delhi, they did not completely unpack because of the lack of space.

Eventually, they did manage to get their old house back because they found another flat in the same complex with the similar rent. They also managed to contact their father and let him know that they have shifted back to Delhi from Madras. 

Now both stories have impacted me in some ways. In the first one, the injustice of human behavior, sometimes I feel that people don't realize how their actions are impacting the other person, we are so careless with our promises and words that we ourselves don't take it seriously and when the other person does and gets disappointed, we ignore it rather than taking responsibility for our actions and sorting it out.

The second one, shows the strength of characters of people stuck in the same situation. The wife, having to lug all her belongings to a new city with children only to realize the misfit and then coming back without making a huge hue and cry about it. The eldest son trying his best to make the situation better and the other children to support their mother instead of blaming the parents for this mishap. I feel that we are privileged to belong in this generation but are more complaining by nature. Even small things are not tolerated anymore like long waiting lines or slow internet.

Eventually things work out in their own way and each struggle becomes a story later. Sometimes we learn from it or sometimes they become a part of our memories which we cherish and relish as stories.

Stories (Part 1)

I have been told often that I am a good storyteller, one of my avid listeners are my nieces and nephew. Even when I retell a story that I see in movies, my immediate family members often point out that my storytelling skills are really good that it makes them imagine. Now that is a huge compliment. Well recently we saw a movie and they spoke about the Japanese Concept 'Ikigai' (pronounced ee-key-guy), basically, its made up of two words 'Iki' means life and 'kai' meaning result or effect. So it's your reason for life or shall I say the purpose of life.

Well I always knew that I wanted to be an artist, even while I was in school. There was never a confusion there. I chose my path from there based on my passion and I had no 'back up plan'. To this day I can safely say that I still love what I do and I have found my Ikigai. But not always people are sure about their path and they often stumble upon a soul searching journey which guides them deeper inside than outside. I think that life follows that path. When we are young, we want to find out more about the world and its endless possibilities and as we grow we realize that we don't know ourselves enough and somewhere down the line the journey becomes inward within ourselves then outward around us.

I do believe that stories are powerful and change us from within if we allow that to happen. There are two such stories that have played an impact on me, here I don't want to talk about religious stories since yes they have impacted me deeply but I can't just categories them as stories, they hold a very deep meaning to my being. So I am talking about stories which either have happened to me or I have heard from someplace. For the sake of storytelling I intend to tell this in a third-person point of view:

1. This is the story of a young girl all of 12, shy, low on self-confidence and non-confortational. This girl did not like being the center of attention. So it did not come as a surprise to anyone that she hated that her school was taking part in an interschool state festival, this was a huge event for the school since there were 10 other schools participating and if it won, then it would be a prestigious position to be in. But it was compulsory for her class to perform and mandatory that everyone be present. Heading the event in their school was a robust P.T teacher, who when he gave instruction, everyone followed.

What happened then was vigorous training for the next month. It was a hot summer and standing in the sun, the young girl wondered when this would be over. At first, she despised going to the field for practice since her act involved her standing over two boys and doing gymnastics of sorts. But slowly and steadily she looked forward to the practice. She found out that she is agile and can easily perform. Day after day rolled by, she was ready for the event now and told her family about it too. They were not allowed to come at the final day event since the show would be aired on television and the tickets were limited to participating school students. 

A week before the event, all the dress for the event was distributed. She stood in the line to get her dress as well along with four others. But as they approached they she saw that her P.T teacher had an empty bag and a sorry expression. He informed that the dressmaker had mixed up their order and would have the dress ready for the remaining four on the day of the event. He asked the girl and the others to show up half an hour early for changing the dress.

On the day of the event, the girl got up with butterflies in her stomach, she wanted to perform well and in front of a huge audience. There was this slight tug of worry in her heart that her dress was not ready yet and even if she got it early in the morning. She had to change quickly into it at school, she couldn't be late. So she stood in line with the other four people who were also waiting for their dress. From where she was standing, she could see the P.T teacher holding a form and crossing out names as he distributed the other dress. When her turn came, she saw a slight worry on the sir's face, his expression quickly changed and he said that he would give her dress at the place of the event which was a stadium. This scared the young girl, she was the only one out of 400 students to be in school uniform and what if she doesn't find a place to change in the stadium.

When they reached the stadium, she went up to her sir to enquire about her dress. It was getting late and she wouldn't have time to change. She saw that he avoided talking to her for some time but she managed to ask him, he replied saying that she should feel lucky that they brought her this far to see the show, that she couldn't participate because she doesn't have the dress and he didn't have time to explain more. She was asked to sit alone in the participation wing and view everyone else perform.

After the event, her sir did not come over to explain or enquire how she felt. She heard her friends talking about the event and their performance and they inquired why she did not come? was she not well? She murmured something and silent tears rolled down her face when she looked away. When her mother asked how the show went and when will it be aired, she couldn't stop her tears, even though she was afraid that it might lead to confrontation with the sir and her parents which it eventually did. But this impacted her, she had always felt till that time that people did what they said. So when sir said that he would give her dress she believed it and did not question it further. It did not cross her mind that this could happen. 

What was more hurtful, the disappointment of not participating after practicing relentlessly for over a month or the fact that someone can be so disregardful of others' emotions and not even bother to apologize for their mistake? The first rattled her and the second shattered her.

 

Now there is a second story to this post and also my observations for that, but I would be sharing it in

the next post since this one has become pretty long. 

A love letter to...

Dear Love,

I have always wanted to tell you something. You are all elusive and mysterious as always and that's why you captivate me.  

Now that I have got your attention, coming to the current post, this is actually about love letters. Yes that's right the one that you get from the people you love or which you sent to them. See when I was in school, I had a friend who after class fifth had moved to another part of town and of course, changed her school. I used to miss her in the class everyday and her empty seat reminded me of the fun times we had. Even though she was in the same city. I used to love writing letters to her and of course receive it back. This went on for a bit but like everything this faded away. I made new friends and slowly yet surely we drifted. This obviously is not the love letter I am talking about but the concept of writing letters which is quite lost these days or giving a personal call has slowly converted to social apps and automated messages.

So once when G and I were talking about love letters, he said about a particular incident
Me: Have you ever received a love letter?
G: Yes, as a matter of fact, I almost received one
Me: What do you mean almost?
G: There were these group of girls in our apartment who used to play with us. This was when I was 12. So one day a girl from that group handed over a love letter to K (brother) and he is the good 'brother' handed it over to our mother. Well I never really read it, since she read it and threw it away! but I was told at a later date that it said...''I LOVE YOU"
Me*mimicing a shocked expression* how novel! *laughing*
G: Did you get any?

Ah well I am not answering that anytime soon. But if I could write a love letter to an older myself (Cause I do love myself *narcissistic slow clap*) I would probably say this:

Dear earlier version me,

There are certain things that you should be glad about:
1. The energy that you have, the fact that you can do so many things in a day and not get tired.
2. The amount of junk food that you can have and still not feel bloated.
3. The free time in the world where you can contemplate things and worry about trivial problems like what plans can I make with friends today? or should I get my hair colored? (Wait I still do that)
4. Your hair and skin are luscious and fresh. 
5. You can pull an all-nighter to finish a project or chill with friends or party and still be up and about the next day

But there are things that you should be careful about too
1. Letting your hormones get in the way of judgment and life long decisions
2. Not spending enough time to actually productively learning a new skill
3. Taking things and people around you for granted. The time you spend with your grandparents or your family.
4. Exercising and investing in your overall health
5. Your sleeping and eating routines, this is an investment.

Love,
the future version of me.

We all grow up to be different versions of ourselves and we don't even realize when we change into this new person. Sometimes it's our interest that change or sometimes it's our character. But as long as we are a good human being and true to ourselves then we should be just fine.

Also coming back to love letters, I do remember an incident where I randomly received one on my table at my workplace. It was unsigned but was very heartfelt. It was from a student of mine who thanked me and said that they enjoyed my classes and look forward to it and it helped him/her gain. These letters are the best when they touch you and you realize the value of what you are doing. Other love letters that I might or might not have received *wink* are not currently for this post.

My sister had this habit of treasure hunting for my personal diaries. I have been writing since I was 9 years and to date, I write. I guess the habit comes from my mother and my paternal grandfather. So N was always curious about what I write in them and when I was in school, I had one with the lock. She found the diary, broke the lock and read it. That's when I knew the lengths of her curiosity. There was in one incident in the UK when she had come to visit me, I had gone to my Uni to get few of my projects submitted and when I retired I saw my room in a ransacked state.

Me*shocked*: What happened here?
N: Oh I was searching for something but couldn't find it, sorry for the mess.
Me: What were you searching for? you just arrived yesterday. There is no way you lost something so quickly.
N: uh..actually, I thought you still wrote in your diary
Me: Yes I do
N*flustered*: Then where is it? I went mad searching for it
Me: Serves you right!

I had foreseen that this would happen, so I had given my diary for safekeeping to one of my other roommates for her entire stay over. Even now she is curious about what I write, I really don't know why. Well now I am a step ahead always and I would want to warn her children to be the same.

Siblings

I am enjoying writing again, as always when I start something I go through phases. This has been common for me throughout and has helped me creatively a lot of times as well but has also been a bit of a curse if I leave it midway through. Okay back to the part of the phase:

1. New Passion (Yay!) When I enjoy an activity I plan to do it every day, like when I started illustrating I wanted to continue it every single day. Or write now it is writing so I want to do that every day. I search for paintings, I save pins of art, I research artists, buy products which have the form of art I love, download games which have drawing activity in it etc. I become obsessive about it and immerse myself in it completely.
2. Continuity: Now this is tricky, if I get past this I will continue the passion and if not I just leave it like a hot potato. It's like when you give a child some new toy, they play with it obsessively and always carry it around and they have had enough of it and move on to the next one. For me this happens with my various interests. Currently I love writing, illustrating and baking. But which would survive this phase is hard to say.
3. Productivity: Now if I survive the previous two phases I get to this one, in which I actually start the idea generation, I see potential and a gap and I try to fill it creatively. This phase I thoroughly enjoy, its very satisfying. Like recently I made books on folk art and our culture. After this phase the enthusiasm does not die down, I will always further it a bit more. But getting here is pretty tough for me.

Now coming back to my post, I felt like talking about siblings, yes those irritating creatures god got them to your life just to irritate the hell out of you! Actually with our siblings our relationship keeps changing. It is a wonderful journey that you take together. So I see it divided into parts.

Part 1 - Younger days/school/ uni days

Like I said, I came from a joint family and we were five of us growing up and not to mention our numerous cousins who kept visiting time to time. The concept of private space was quite lost on all of us. We always had to share things, be it room or toys or games etc. So there was bound to be differences and fights. Also where you are in your sibling hierarchy was also important, like if you are the eldest then you had minions to do your work but if you are the youngest you were pampered a lot. I was unfortunately the middle one, along with my other brother S. So we got the most of the scolding thrown our way. But in this part your sibling is your partner in crime or your friend to throw under the bus. Like when we wanted any permission for movies or chips we would send our youngest siblings Arjun or Adu to do the talking.

My elder sister would be really ahead of us in everything plotting and planning, really it was next to impossible to catch her in any of her acts and believe me we have tried. She can get out of the stickiest situations quite easily. So the equation between us siblings was of loggerheads, pranks and a lot of teasing. But we always had a company to play with, that was an upside, we played all sorts of games together.

Part 2 - Staying in hostel/different city/job/or MARRIAGE

Now the equation changes, when we are young we seldom think that we are not always going to be together 24/7, there is going to come a time that we all go our separate ways, I think it is then that the reality sinks in. We suddenly forget the fights and getting on the nerves part. We miss our squabbles but sometimes hate to admit it. This is a difficult or different phase. But contrary to our belief that our sibling will forget us when away, we tend to miss them more. The bond becomes stronger somehow. and with us growing up, the fights are less. Now they become the best friends, whom you call to discuss if you go through a tough time. Because let's face it, who knows us better than them.  You end up calling them often and looking forward to their visit and then feeling sad that it went off so quickly. This is when you realize that you were in so much hurry to grow up that looking back childhood was the best part.

Part 3- Growing old not apart

When I see my parents and grandparents with their siblings, I hear their stories while growing up, the pranks that they played at a time or got someone in trouble all become delicious memories. So then I reflect that the luxury of meeting often that they had earlier is not the same, there are health issues, family issues, etc, etc and the few moments of the union during important family functions are often the highlight of the life lived together. This sometimes takes an effort for the next generation to make sure that it is possible like my father always made sure till my grandmother was alive and her mobility was there, he took her to meet her siblings or made sure that they come and visit her. This at the time of my growing up, did not look like a big thing to me, but now I feel that it is something to be cherished, since time sadly does not return.

Of course this is looking to be a rather long and serious post but everyone has a very unique relationship with their sibling, some may not get along or some are privileged to stay with their siblings throughout their lives like my father and his brother or my husband and his brother. Some are broken by their ego or clashes and some are best of friends, Which one are you?

I do miss all my siblings and I know they do too but do not admit it. And somehow when you are with them, you return to your childhood no matter how old you are. So a big shout out to all of you, you are blessed if you have a sibling that you adore and who adores you back, cherish that because not all are as lucky as you

What's Cooking today?

Well for the purpose of my really hard task of writing every day, I decided that I want to change my topics from being a lockdown post to a generic one. Also, the situation around is getting better, so that's good news for us. We are getting our daily milk and groceries so the day goes by. But the eternal and I am sure people who cook in their house every day know this dilemma very well...

WHAT TO COOK TODAY? (Khaane mein kya hai aaj?)

When I was in school and in Uni, this was a standard question asked to my mother/aunt (We lived in a joint family, still do actually. So my father's younger brother, wife and their two children. We all stay together). My aunt (Geetha) used to pick us up every day from school and would always face the dreaded question:

Us: What have you made today?
She *after avoiding looking at us*: Sambar, Rice, Rasam, and Sabzi
And all of us would groan in unison and protest that they never made anything interesting and we want a chips/ice cream/etc on the way back to make up for the lousy menu.

Now when I have to decide on a menu to cook, it is quite a task to please everyone! So I understand the torture that we put them through, but nevertheless when I go back to Delhi. I still demand an interesting menu.

So I decided to try my mother's famous Mirch ka Salan (to put it in a fancy manner fried chilies in a spicy sauce) and Biryani to test. She had recently visited and had made this for our family here and everyone loved it. So I decided to make that over the weekend. My mother is a great cook and a fast cook. She finishes all her cooking very quickly, I really admire her culinary skills. But she cannot explain the recipes properly, the proportions and also key ingredients will go missing when she tells you to make. She doesn't maintain a recipe book, it's mostly in her head and really only comes to play when she is the one who is cooking.

Me: I want to make your Mirch ka salan and biryani tommorow
Amma: Sure, you do want to get a pen and paper to note down the recipe?
Me: Nah.. its okay I am recording it so will listen to it in the morning
Amma: *goes on to explain me the entire recipe* If you have any doubts give me a call

Of course I had doubts because when I listened to the recording, I realized she hasn't given me any quantities and had also forgotten tamarind and sesame seeds which I remember she added when she made it. So I video called and showed her my ingredients and asked if it was the right proportions.

 Me*frusterated* The point of you giving me a recipe is lost, next time I should just do a video recording of you making the food. Are you sure you haven't forgotten anything this time?
Amma: Yes Yes, its all there now, oh wait... did I mention chopped tomatoes..no? Okay add that as well after the onions...

Well the biryani did come out well, but hers was better. But cooking runs in our blood, if I can say so my father is an excellent cook and we love his aaloo vadiyan and actually anything he cooks, my Geetha Aunty cooks amazing mixed variety rice and Rajma which now my niece also enjoys. Both my brothers Sam and Arjun cook really well when they cook that is! And my younger Sister Adu also bakes beautiful cakes and sweets. My elder Sister Namu, however is not fond of cooking and has a limited menu that she makes, but those are really tasty. Her husband however makes up for it, he makes really innovative dishes and experiments with ingredients.

It does make me feel that we do associate certain dishes with certain people and it's interesting how they become a part of that cooking as well. Whenever I make Paneer, I think of my brother Arjun, since he loves it and when I make Pasta I remember my darling niece Adhya who adores it! Food is so much more than just food, it becomes an emotion. Certain food remind us of our childhood, certain food of our love and certain food make us travel (like eating a good momo takes me to Dilli Haat or having Corn on Cob with butter reminds me of Nandos).

This is my list of favorite food made by my favorite people:
1. Pappa : Aaloo vadiyan
2. Amma: Pongal and Gotsu
3. Geetha Aunty: Rajma Chawal
4. Ramani Mama: Chai
5. Namu: Burger
6. Advaitha : Gajar ka halwa
7. Sam: Biryani
8. Arjun: Chilli Panner
9. Amma (Mother in law): Jackfruit Sabzi
10: Lavanya (Sister in law) : Madhurai style Biryani

What is your comfort food? Gosh that reminds me, what should I make tomorrow?