Custard Topsy Turvy

Ami dropped custard powder in the kitchen today. It was so hilarious, dad and I could barely stand straight as we doubled over with laughter. Like a scene out of a comic movie, the carton exploded in a cloud of powdery dust and settled all over the counter top. The windows. The bottles and jars. And that was just the beginning.

Mother was not pleased. Amu was embarassed but only momentarily, as she should be.

Out came the sponges and mops, the custardy mess cleaned by eight pairs of hands in 20 minutes. Aah, to spend the evening at home after dinner. Entertainment guaranteed.

The antics Amu employed to open that fateful carton will forever remain a secret.

Seven Pounds

The trailers on tv were enough to hook me. A Will Smith movie titled Seven Pounds. I finally watched it and it was totally worth it. The moviemakers didn't want the audience to know exactly what Ben Thomas was up to. They succeeded in creating that mystery. But perhaps one step too far. There were loose ends that bothered a viewer. Will Smith is pure magic, no surprise there. Rosario Dawson is pretty great too.

I won't be a killjoy and give the story away. Let's just say that the climax is colossal. The kind that hits home so hard it knocks the wind out of you. And when you understand it, many people may be flooded with their righteous, moral viewpoints. The protagonist's behaviour would guarantee a place in hell according to most religious doctrines. The plotline of Seven Pounds makes you wonder otherwise.

I'm waiting with bated breath for Angels and Demons, based on the book by Dan Brown, starring Tom Hanks, that releases today in the United States.

Update: Watched Angels and Demons and thought it was great. Does justice to the book, fast-paced and TomHanks is well, Tom Hanks. Flawless performance, no doubt about it. The movie did leave out some parts of the text but that was probably necessary to deliver a powerful story. Watch it to see the Vatican in a whole new light, no pun intended. Everyone's guessing where the movie was shot, the theories oscillating between sets and the actual church. Since access is not likely to be granted at the basilica for a movie like this, the sets are mindbogglingly-convincing. That is some seriosuly talennted art direction.

Airborne entertainment

On the plane ride to Paris, I watched Marley and Me. Although I'm not a dog-lover, this movie is wonderful! (I love dogs more than I used to. Vidu, Vineeta and Kumudaa, look at what you've done, I hope you're happy! :P) The movie, based on a book, is a fantastic story of a man and his dog and the canine's connection with the man's family. Utterly candid and well-told.

Then I watched Vicki Christina Barcelona and the only way I can decribe it as is "weird." But good weird. Can such a thing happen? Coming to the bigger of question of, does such a thing happen? I don't know the answers but Penelope Cruz was entertaining. Can't say the same about Sacrlett Johannsen.

One word (sound?) for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button - ugh! I got bored midway and flipped the channel.

Other movies on the trip were "Nights in Rodanthe." This one was no big deal. Unfair as it is, I was comparing the chemistry between Gere and Lane to the kind in "Unfaithful," where it was virtually flawless. And then I watched "Bride Wars." The less said the better.

Landing at the Charles de Gaulle Airport at the crack of dawn was interesting, watching the planes land on the runway in succession. It was like a synchronized dance of fireflies, the planes' lights bright in the night sky.

The music is playing

The first of our classes ended for the Spring semester. So Prof. Mills took the class to O'Leary's. M and I sipped on a coke and dove into a basket of french fries with ketchup. Nabeela was a little late coming in, but caught up on the conversation. I stayed till the end and chatted.

I can't believe this phase of the B.U. experience is already coming to an end. A couple of months ago, all of this felt so new and unfamiliar. Now...I can imagine little else.

Shruti and I went for a super early dinner to Bertucci's. I hade Fettucine Alfredo chicken with asparagus. Good stuff.

It's late. And I'm sleepy. And happy. And hopeful.

Saturday

I'm not the biggest fan of gushing. Okay, who am I kidding, yes I am!

Today was perfect in so many ways. I woke up on a Saturday morning to go down to the Charles River for a cleanup organized by the graduate society of my school. We spent two hours scrounging the banks of the blue Charles for litter. My most interesting finds? A single windshield wiper and two used alcohol shot testubes. Two hours later I was hungry and walking toward Copley.

An impromptu call to M turned into a lunch invitation. So I pushed thoughts of impending hunger as I browsed the shelves of nearby Marshall's. Headed to campus and then headed to M's place.

M had made kadhai chicken! Homecooked kadhai chicken all by herself! We love you M! And by we I mean Puneet and I. It was the most scrumptious lunch, don't take my word for it, here's a picture.

Did I mention that M even baked a cake for us?

Then we gabbed in M's room for the next three hours. It was 73 degrees outside. In Indian terms, that means Bangalore weather. For the first time in months we were able to go out without jackets. The sun on our face and being out in a T-shirt...the joy is known only to someone from a tropical country who has lived in frigid New England for two semesters. No offence Boston, we love you.

Wunderbar!

After class, M and I went for lunch to Shalimar of India in Central Square and then shopping to H&M on Newbury Street. Mm, mm, good! :)

Into the future...with you

Read about why these couples chose to keep their love alive for 50 years and beyond.

http://www.wickedlocal.com/brookline/archive/x1931053704/Brookline-Senior-Center-celebration-honors-marriages-that-last-50-years-or-more

And it's all good

What does a foodie do when her editor announces that instead of spending the afternoon discussing journalistic practices in the office, they're going out for a "taste test?" She flips out, of course!

Today, my editor and I, along with another intern, spent the afternoon in Roslindale and West Roxbury. The weather was nice after so long and we just walked the streets stopping at pizza parlors and sampling their cheese pizza.

In four hours, we covered five places. The original plan had been to go to six. But one place didn't open for a while longer. And it also looked a little sketchy, so we were happy about the opportune timing that the food wasn't available. Heavy wood-paneled interiors, only one aged waiter and two old women sitting at a booth, complete with a martini in the middle of the afterrnoon...this place definitely gave us the creeps.

It was a sort of sneaky exercise, heading to the counter and asking for a slice of cheese pizza without identifying our reason for being there. Once we got our hand on the delectable (although not always) slice, we took pictures of it. The next few minutes were spent rolling the food in our mouth, investigating for saltiness, oregano falvoring, texture of the cheese, crispiness of the crust, color, feel, look, taste! Phew...exhausting, yet heavenly.

After the fifth pizza sample we were ready to call it a day. But I wasn't done yet. A friend and I headed to Sweet, on Mass. Ave and sampled the famous red velvet cupcake and another coconut flavored one. Never a fan of coconut, my opinion did not change today. However, the red velvet was a pleasant surprise. Moist and sweet, but not in a cloying way. And the interiors were interesting. It was easy to imagine that you had gone back in time to the 60s, when roller skates were still cool and you couldn't wait for the captain of the football team to take you to the drive-in movie theatre in his vintage red Ford Mustang. Done in shades of pink and brown, it was a convincing match for the fare served there. However, I doubt I'll make the effort to return. Just doesn't seem worth the effort.

A day when the sun is out and features freinds and pizza while working...it's hard for that to turn out wrong.

New York, New York!

There is nowhere in the world quite like New York. Period.

It's not just the insanely tall buildings or how every aspect of public life is larger-than-life. The money, the h, the city in geographical terms. No, those are periphery factors. It's that New York is a world in itself. And once within it's five boroughs, it ensures you understand that. Allow the world to fade away into oblivion, it whispers in your ear. And although the tone is gentle, you know it's an order. So you obey and allow the outside world to slip away. Because it's when you allow New York to flow through you, do you regain control.
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Or something to that effect.

New York is wonderful, in every sense of the word. Stare down the aisle of a crowded subway car mid-afternoon and you're likely to see people of atleast six ethnicities. It's anyone's guess what the landscape of your surroundings will be when you step off the next subway station. I've been told that there are so many restaurants in the city that even if you were to eat out for all three meals in a day for an entire year, you wouldn't be able to cover all. And new ones are constantly opening.

Get the picture?

This time in New York, I got off at Penn Station at headed to Columbia. G was in class so I read The Wall Street Journal at the student center until she came and picked me up with a big smile and a warm hug. We headed to dinner with two more friends, uber nice people I hope I meet soon again.

Seated at a Chinese restaurant close to campus, we chatted over noodles in chicken. Mine were unlike anything I had eaten before. The noodles were dumpling-like. Good stuff. And then we shared coconut ice cream flambe. Baked goodness encasing a cool creamy inside.

On the way back I saw a Bombay frankie place. The wave of nostalgia rose and I was ordering the Masala Unda (yes, that is how New Yorkers like to spell it) before I had digested my dinner. But totally worth it. The even cook it the same way. An open stove on which they crack open an egg, flip a chapati (Indian flatbread) and generously sprinkle spices on the cooking egg. Wrap it up and we're good to go.

We passed by a pub called 'Pour House.' I thought that was hilarious and the name so apt because the beer there is only 1$. It's not uncommon to find inebriated undergrads there, soaking up the affordable elixir, I'm told.

I spent most of the next day on my own on the subway system. I got lost a couple of times, would have been doomed without google maps but eventually found my way to my destination. The Channel Thirteen Tower by Penn Station. The tower also houses the Associated Press office. My appointment was with Maria Hinojosa. Incidentally, I ended up bumping into her in the restroom before the interview. She was dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans, her clear skin comlimenting the outfit quite nicely. She just laughed at my suprise and said, "It's okay, everyone does it. I'll see you in my office." I spoke with her and also had a chance-meeting or 'chat' with David Brancaccio of PBS. I came out of the office with a big smile on my face.

I finally managed to find my way back to the Morningside campus, exhausted and hungry. So G took me to a lovely Italian restaurant closeby. Camille's is cool and somewhat dark inside, but not in a creepy way. I ordered the Lemon Chicken that was the most heavenly poultry preperation I've had in a while. The flavors came together to create a smooth, creamy dish of succulent meat and a side of salad. In the evening, G and one of the friends I had met the first time headed to The Living Room on the lower east side. I sipped on a large orange juice, complete with lemon wedge, and listened to some really great music. We ate pizza and headed home.

The next morning, G took me out to brunch at The Kitchenette. I had a turkey omelette and cheese grits (cornmeal). It was so fantastic and filling, that became my only meal for the day. I made a mad dash for Penn Station to catch my bus only to learn that it had been delayed by a half hour and my gut-wrenching cramps were in vain. It could have been worse though.

The Bolt Bus is an extremely convenient and affordable way to travel the north-east. There's plenty of legroom, it's really clean and the drivers are the nicest. Did I mention it also has free Wi-Fi on board for people married to their iPods/laptops and other passengers are curteous? I met a history of science graduate student at Harvard on my way to NYC and a prospective international relations graduate student at Tufts on the way back. Nothing like good conversation to keep restlessness at bay on a long drive.

New York is close enough to Boston, a four-hour road trip. It allows me to sample the city every few months while running back to the Bay State, where I feel a little safer. A little less vulnerable. But my appetite more piqued than before. Always craving more.

I've had my fill of The Big Apple for the moment. But I have a feeling that won't last long.

Because Facebook just wasn't enough

There are no rules. There are no formulas. It is what you make of it. Deal with it. FYI, "It" is whatever you want it to be.

If not for google, youtube and basically the Internet, there's a strong possibility mankind would be doomed.

If I hear one more person tell me about the future of journalism or how the print medium is dying, I may just physically injure them. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Despite popular opinion, blogs can be constructive too.

It costs nothing to be a nice person. Go ahead, try it and get addicted.

There's too much that's right with the world. So stop complaining about everything that isn't.

You're worth it. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

There's a song for every mood.

Love is the gift that keeps on giving.

"If it's healthy, it's not dessert." - Daisy

The sky really is the limit. If you think about, even the sky is just a layer of atmosphere. So, technically, even that's not the limit. Go figure. Go soar.

Don't ever the light in your head or the fire in your soul go out. It's what keeps you alive.

Hush. There's a reason we have one mouth but two eyes and two ears.

Now go ahead and open that big mouth. Isn't verbal diorrhea a blessing?

Like I said, there are no rules. No formulas. Break 'em. It is really what you make of it. Deal with it.