What’s on My breakfast plate?

 

“Breakfast is everything, the beginning, the first thing, the mouthful that is the commitment to a new day.”

A.A. Gill.

 

Breakfast is the first meal of the day. When you eat breakfast, you break a fast. Your last meal was the previous night. Some prefer a light breakfast while others prefer going by the age-old adage “breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a pauper”.

What would you find on my breakfast plate? 

I must have breakfast or my day is just not done.

 

·       Idli or dosa – Idli is quite a favourite of mine. Scrumptious idlis dunked in a hot steaming bowl of sambhar, or liberally smeared with podi and ghee is what appeals to my palate. A wet chutney goes equally well.Some days see me devouring crispy dosas with some lip –smacking chutney.

 

·       Overnight oats – That’s my sweet start to the day. Steel cut oats, soaked overnight and then blended with a banana together with a pinch of cinnamon powder and  jaggery. Throw in a handful of nuts and a fistful of chia seeds into the blended mix and voila… you’re done.

 

·       Poha – Blame it on my sweet tooth. This popular Maharashtrian breakfast dish, made of beaten rice and a host of other condiments and spices, like onion, curry leaves, mustard seeds,chillies, peanuts and occasionally potato (depends on personal preference)  I do tweak with a topping of jaggery, a sprinkling of grated coconut and a dash of lime juice.

 

·       Ragi (Finger millet) – Ragi porridge is close to my heart. Two to four tablespoons of Finger millet flour is sautéed in a dash of ghee, then combined with double the quantity of  water and cooked to a porridge consistency. I often top it with a tablespoon or two of roasted sesame seeds. Alternately, I combine the ragi flour with sattu in the ratio of 2:1.

 

·       Bread and eggs – I savour slices of toasted bread lathered with yummy hummus or blended avocado which I season with salt, pepper and sour lime juice accompanied by a fried or boiled egg.

 

Breakfast would be incomplete without that mandatory cup of steaming, aromatic coffee. What’s on your breakfast plate? Do tell.

 

 

This  post is part of the Blogchatterbloghop weekly challenge.

Image credit : Pixabay. 

 

 

 

 

Festivals

 Festivals

 

It’s that time of the year

When festive chimes ring loud and clear

There’s magic in the air

Laughter and love are everywhere.

 

Cherished traditions adhered to

Clothes, brand new and of every hue

Decorations so pretty, lights so bright

Oh! What a wondrous sight

Folk send out wishes

For peace and prosperity.

 

Sweets and other culinary delights

To tickle your palate

You take more than just one bite

Forgetting about inches, weight and height.

 

Festivals are fun

There’s also song and dance

To cheer everyone.

 

So tap your feet

Partake of every treat

Let joy and unity 

Be your beat

Talk to the One above

Thank him for his generosity and love. 

Image credit: Pixabay

 

 

 

 

 

The Unsent Letters

 

 

It was in college as freshers that Deepa and Anjali first met.Anjali was being teased by some seniors and Deepa came to her rescue asking that Anjali be left alone.  Then they found themselves sitting next to each other in a crowded classroom. Deepa, the bolder of the two, smiled and asked, “Hi, what’s your name?”. There was no turning back. From long chats in the canteen, and even longer chats on the phone to sleepovers, shopping expeditions, and discussing movies, books and clothes Deepa and Anjali became inseparable.

The years flew by. Deepa began working for a bank in another city, while Anjali secured employment in a bank in the same city.  

“I’m getting married”, Deepa yelled into the phone, one day.  “That’s great,” Anjali yelled back. “Congratulations! When is the big day?” Deepa had confided in Anjali about her blossoming romance with Ashok.

“It’s in two months. Mark the date on your calendar.” “I will, I will,” said Anjali excitedly.

  Ashok was the son of an extremely wealthy businessman. The two  had met at the party and cupid had struck. The wedding was the typical Big Fat Indian wedding with lots of dancing and lots to eat and drink. Deepa returned to her marital home in Kolkatta, while Anjali continued living and working in Ranchi.

Then, a couple of years later Anjali got married and moved to Mumbai. Her wedding wasn’t as big, grand and fat as Deepa’s. It was an arranged match and she was happy.  Deepa attended Anjali’s wedding alone in Ranchi bringing expensive gifts. “Ashok is travelling on business and could not make it, Deepa told Anjali. In the excitement of the wedding, Anjali did not think much about Deepa’s answer. The girls continued to keep in touch through letters and phone calls. 

Anjali began to notice subtle changes in Deepa’s conversations. “We loved the Swiss Alps she told Anjali or she bragged about the brand-new Audi in their garage. Anjali listened to her inane chatter as the seeds of a toxic relationship began to take root. She grew resentful and jealous and began to detest the narcissistic Deepa.  They no longer discussed books, movies or clothes. Their conversations were reduced to a monologue by Deepa with Anjali muttering a yes or no now and again.

Anjali was taking care of an unwell mother–in–law while dealing with a husband who had recently become unemployed, frustrated and depressed. She longed for a shoulder to cry on as the stress and strain of her life began to take a toll on her but every time she spoke with Deepa, she was left feeling empty, exhausted and more resentful.

After one such fruitless conversation, Anjali decided to write a letter to Deepa. She poured her heart out, telling Deepa of her struggles with finances and family and how she missed the ‘old wisecracking Deepa’ to whom she had confided her deepest darkest secrets.  She placed the letter on her dressing table to post it but the next day came and went and the next and the next…the sealed letter lay on the dressing table until Anjali shoved it into a drawer.” Would Deepa even open the envelope”, she wondered.

Little did she know that Deepa was struggling with her demons. Underneath that façade of an opulent life, lived a lonely girl whose husband travelled extensively on business and who had to find ways and means to entertain herself. Deepa lacked nothing in material wealth but was starved for affection and company.

“I wish Anjali were here”, said Deepa to herself wistfully as she sat on a sofa staring into space. Anjali had begun curtailing her calls and messages to Deepa, keeping communication to the bare minimum. Deepa slowly realized that she hadn’t been very empathetic towards Anjali’s plight. “I’ve been such a fool,” she thought to herself. “I’m surrounded by the best life has to offer but my heart aches for love and friendship. My so-called friends like me only for my wealth.”

The emotionally charged Deepa wrote a heartfelt letter to Anjali, asking for her forgiveness but could not bring herself to post the letter. “Will Anjali respond?” will she understand my struggles? Deepa shoved the letter into her cupboard.

The polite telephone calls and messages continued. Anjali was now more at peace because her husband had found employment and she was the mother of a bonny baby girl.

Deepa’s seemingly perfect life was turning into a nightmare. Her husband’s business began to suffer losses. They struggled to keep up appearances. Ashok and his father sold the business and looked at more profitable avenues. Eventually, the finances began to stabilize. To Deepa who had got accustomed to the wealth and splendour, this was a nightmare coming true. She had not envisioned going back to work. On one hand, she missed the luxurious life and on the other,

she longed for a true friend.  Inspired by Anjali, Deepa too began to work but more than work it was a friend that she needed, it was Anjali, she needed. She picked up the letter and reread it. Sadly, she wondered, “Will Anjali forgive me for my haughtiness and condescending attitude?” “ I am now in her shoes”.

Anjali often thought of Deepa, and wished that they could get back together. On a whim she dialled Deepa and after some initial awarkedness blurted out that she had missed her terribly. “I too have missed you, Anjali,” said Deepa in a choked voice. Then the floodgates opened and the two friends laid bare their struggles, insecurities and their judgements of each other. Between tears and laughter they told each other about their unsent letters and decided to tear them up.

Anjali and Deepa had rekindled the flame of their friendship. They did not go back to being the inseparable duo of their adolescence, but it was the start of a more endearing and supportive relationship.

 

Image credit : Pixabay