Sun I Sa-lute Thee !

Sun, glorious sun, magnificent sun, warm sun, bright sun, sun sun sun … we the tropical dwellers barely realize how wonderful it is to have sun through out the year shining and blazing down on us, though I must agree that when it reaches really high degrees I absolutely loath it, but when the clouds cast a never-ending shadow, when its been real grey for long, all you long for is the warm rays of the sun.

  Rain is romantic, rain is beautiful, rain is mesmerizing, but like forlorn love are we who yearn for the warmth of a lover, but like an unfed child are we who yearn for the warm milk, but like the tired traveler are we who yearns for shelter, like this do we yearn for the sun… 

And when finally the golden ball is seen upon the horizon without a drop of vaporized water to daunt it , when the warm friend is up in the blue sky, shining, aah when the heat touches our skin, that is when the dampened heart rises, elates and bloats, puffs up like a hot air balloon and sets sail, soaring with the wind, moving with the gentle breeze…

Sun is better than the most delicious meal, better than the costliest car, better than a full bank account, better even than a sweet boss …

Sun, I finally write this to celebrate thee … Oh god who rides the seven white horses, keep riding here, keep riding here … 

Parinitha Konanur

Chandrika Davalandathi

I grew up listening to many stories from my uncle, most of them are imprinted in my brain, even better than if I would have read them all myself. Of all these one story in particular I recall often.

The story is of King Bhoja and the brilliant poet Kalidasa. As happens with kings and their favourite poets the king banished Kalidasa for some trivial matter. Kalidasa thus wandered without being noticed. The King grew sad with his absence and invented a plan to find out where he is. So he announced that he would reward anyone in the kingdom who could come up with the best poem. A Brahmin heard about this and wrote a poem, a Brahmin who loves his food could ask for nothing more than a good meal - The Poem that the Brahmin wrote was " Bhojanam Dehi Rajendra, Grutha supa samanvithaha" - which translates to "oh King do give me a good meal, with rice curry and ghee". He then set off to the king's palace thinking of a way to finish the poem but was stuck. So he stood under a tree and kept repeating the first half in order to find the flow to continue.

Kalidasa happened to be there and heard the Brahmin and offered to help him complete the poem. The Brahmin looked at the shabby attire of Kalidasa and laughed, but not heeding to this Kalidasa immediately thought and created the rest of the poem " Mahi Chandra, Sharath Chandra, Chandrika Davalandathi" - Which translates [ I cant do justice to it in English - yet I try ]  to " Please give me a cup of curd that is white and shines like the full moon in the clear sky of the Autumn season" ... The Brahmin relates the poem to the king and as would be expected, Bhoja figures out that Kalidasa was involved in the last part of the poem and is called back to the kingdom.

There are thousands of such stories, but the beauty of this one is how a mundane eatable like curd, can be shown in such beauty - Similes were Kalidasa's biggest strength.

Parinitha Konanur

The Story of Boiled Eggs !

When I was very little I hated eggs, it was something that I was always forced to eat. My brother was forced to drink it, yes drink it. There were these rumors those days that if one were to eat eggs raw mixed with milk, it will make them strong. The look of it was so very disgusting, the sound of it when it was poured down my brother's throat was even the more "inside churning" disgusting.

Before such rumours came into being or atleast my dad got the word of it, I had developed a taste for them "Bull's Eye" I used to like the soft yelowy middle, the white crispy surrounding. But all these things and my phobia of live chicken did not help me develop any form of love towards Eggs. I had started getting allergic to it even. But many many years later, many years after consuming it with a saintly tolerance, I actually fell in love with the "Boiled Eggs" - Hard boiled with "Garam Masala and Salt" not pepper or anything else.

"How I fell In love with the Boiled Egg "

- ah last December three of us girls were in Rajasthan, travel and food always goes well with me. There having tasted the most delicious lassi, and "makhan wala roti" in Jaipur and Jodhpur,  there was not much in Udaipur to eat, or rather to remember, oh yeah well other than the spiciest "Bhel Puri" that we ate. We had gotten ourselves an amazing homestay, a real home [ not the fancy fake home stays] of a family in Udaipur, the place was just behind the "Lake palace" with a full view of the palace and the fireworks on it in the night, from the terrace. This accounted for a eat, drink and relish the view from the terrace. The kitchen had nothing like a snack to provide [ and within our thin budget] so we asked the lady of the house to get us some hard boiled eggs , as there was no pepper in her house she added some hot Garam Masala and salt to it - AND that is how I fell in love with the hard boiled egg. So every time I eat it I cant help but visualizing the scene in front of me - which I can assure "was out of this world"

Parinitha Konanur

All That There Is

All that there is , is a compilation of all happenings since 1984 - when I was born. All the movies, Music, Books, Art shows, thoughts, philosophies, confusions, angst, colour, confusions, reviews! basically the PULP of it all.

Parinitha Konanur