Sand between my fingers

I'm about to leave the city that I've lived in for all but three years of my life. This city is more than home. It defines me.

I'm about to relocate and adopt a foreign land. I know that I will crave familiar sounds and smells. And most of all, the people. The people I love and those that constitute this city's vibrant spirit. I will feel so lost without you, my friends.

I will miss knowing that it's possible to cut through Barton Centre from Church Street to MG Road, or the other way around, without having to walk all the way around. The big, golden Deepam sign that crowns MG Road. Browsing through the crowded shelves of Blossoms or the well laid out ones at Crossword. Hopping over to Gangaram's if you need a book that you can't find in either. Sipping on a cafe latte at Coffee Day watching the evening traffic whizz past. Driving my beautiful black hatchback through streets that I recognise and the silent satisfaction I feel in knowing which ones are one-ways and secret shortcuts. Mastering the art of crossing Cunninghan Road. Knowing what 'Koramangala Exit' and 'Madivala Exit' on the signboards in the basement parking of the Forum Mall mean. Hearing the flow of Kannada from local tongues wondering when the day will arrive that you'll be able to speak like that or at least understand what is being said. Corner House. Cubbon Park. The Leela Palace. Gulmohur trees, The monsoons. Hot bhajjis. Cold Pepsi. Beijing Bites. The maddening traffic. Autos. Two wheelers. Cows, dogs, cats. Life just won't be the same without the chaos.

I'm hopeful about the change. It promises to be exciting and I'm really looking forward to it. But a large part of me will remained anchored here. It's the part that will allow me to pick up where I left off when I return. Until then, I only wish that the new city attempts to be as kind to me as my home has been.

In-flight Dinner

I love airports. They're like people. Could it be because they see so many...?

Everyone has a story. An airport is one those places that seems to hold everyone's story. Everyone who passes through them, that is. The businessman who's making his thrid trip to Hong Kong this month. The seven year-old who's taking his first flight back home on his own. His uncle, with whom he spent the summer, dropped him off two hours ago, after placing him under air hostess care. Now he'll take the short ride back home where his father will be waiting to receive him at another airport. The girfriend who can't wait to throw her arms around her man just like in the Lufthansa ad and the college student whose leaving home for a long time.

There are plenty others, like the parents visiting their married children who live abroad, the first time traveller who is petrified of flying and the happy family on another Raj Travel Tour. Whoever you are, the airport has a place for you.

The atmosphere is bursting with emotion. It's heavy and electric. All the farewells and teary eyes, the innumerable hugs and vehement promises to return soon. Or its the welcoming bunches of flowers from family/friends and air conditioned cars that they bring with them, whose doors they throw open to rescue the tired traveller.

And yet, none of this is permanent. Sure, nothing is. But at an airport, it's even more temporal. From the winding queues at immigration and customs to the walk on the aerobridge from the aircraft to the building when you drag your luggage-on-wheels behind you. The manicured meals that you're served as a passenger or the more-perfect-than-life duty-free shops in the departure lounge. The distances that are covered. You know that it will end soon. Sooner than expected. It's all in transit. Always.

Maybe that's exactly what makes it real and therefore more appealing. In an age of plastic and Botox, anything remotely real is welcome.

Speaking of real, although this is entirely unconnected, I had a realy good meal tonight. Beijing Bites round the corner served up a particularly fabulous dinner of Crispy Peking Chicken, Lemon and Basil Prawns (which were sooooo goood! Flattened seafood in herbal seasoning goodness. I'm still smacking my lips) and Butter Garlic Noodles. It was a traditional Indo-Chinese dinner. But it was simply divine. And I have to mention the Bhuna Gosht from nearby Shahi Kabab Centre. Spiced and garnished, for my tasting pleasure - splendid. One of those moments that genuinely make me feel proud to be a carnivore.

Indyeah! - A Tribute to the Tricolour

I was at the cinema today and before the trailers began, a message came up on the screen instructing the audience to stand for the National Anthem. Unquestioningly we rose from our seats and the music played. Instruments came to life with images of the Indian Army atop an icy mountain. Temperatures are clearly below freezing, it's blizzardy and bundled Indian soldiers are holding the Indian trciloured flag. It's waving furiously in the wind and the crescendo is growing louder. Before I realise it, I'm mouthing the words, matching the music. I can't tell how many instruments are being used, but it's a rich sound. I have goosebumps on my body and I feel wieghtless inside. Patriotism washes over my insides, I feel new, alive. I am proud to be Indian.

Having lived a nomadic childhhood, I always found it hard to answer the question, "So where are you from?" That's because I never felt like I belonged anywhere. Now I know that India is home. No matter where I go, that will remain constant. I am so proud to be Indian. And I'd love to shout that out from atop an icy mountain.

Some thyme just in time

So the Elle girls went out for brunch to Herbs and Spices, 80 Ft. Road, Indiranagar. I've heard plenty about the place for ages now but never got down to actually going. I finally went and wondered why I had been putiing off the trip all this while. It's small and basic but fun with an open space in the centre that welcomes the sun. Split level seating adds character to the space and the tables are surprisingly private though being in close proximity. It's all about the arangement.

I tried the chicken quiche, with the faintest hint of onion and seasoned with thyme. I'm not kidding when I say that it really was the best that I have eaten so far. Fluffy pastry married to cheesy fillings and spinach blended together - it silenced all conversation on my end with its arrival to our table. My mouth was too busy savouring the delicacy to talk :P

Dessert was cheesecake topped with slices of fresh mango. Sumptious. And the Walnut Meringue was light as a cloud but quite bland. The eggless chocolate cake was an honest effort but fell short on account of being almost sugarless and unacceptably 'pasty'.

The decor was pleasing, I was in beautiful company, and conversation with friends followed the completion of the quiche. The afternoon could not have got much better.