Vade Ki Daastan

We say we are diet conscious, health freaks who do not like eating those oily fried fast foods which we get on the street, or even if we make them at home. So one of my favorites are the varieties of vadas which we eat. The vada-pavs, and the medu vadas, and dal vadas…slurp! There are different songs, old and new, which tell us that vadas are so good, and they help us imagine it all. Do forgive me even if I completely mutilate the songs, because this is just a work of fiction, and of imagination, to satiate the urge to enjoy the vadas in the rains, with hot steaming tea.

Let us begin with a small prayer, an ode to our stomachs, so that we stay strong, and however many vadas we eat, may our weight not increase.

Humko pet ki shakti dena,

Weight gain na kare,

Dusro ke khaane se pehle,

Humko khaana mile.

There are some songs which actually promote the eating of vadas. Here is one in which Rajnikanth Sir is used to say that vadas must be eaten.

Dum maaro dum,

Bhajiya garam,

Khao subeh shaam,

Rajnikanth bhi le khaake prabhu ka naam.

Then there is the one song, the romantic ode, which tells us about personal choice, and how vadas must actually be savored.

Vade ache lagte hai,

With chutney,

And sambhar,

Mat pina,

Saath mein rum.

Next we come to the blockbuster song, which you shall very easily recognize, and it is quite self-explanatory too.

Vada o vada,

Aisa lazis tu vada,

Har koi chaahe tujhe,

Khaana akela.

Well well well…! Now I’m quite hungry, so I’m going out with my friend to fill my stomach, and there is a song for that situation which faces me. The awkward situation when I have to decide which type of vada to devour first (first because obviously I can’t skip any, can you?).

Yaar hume kis mod pe le aaya,

Ider medu vada,

Uder dal vada,

Kaun yeh bataye,

Pehle kya khayega.

So, I decided to walk to the new shop which had opened at the crossroad. It smelled awesome and it delicately attracted me towards it, and so I went there. As I went near, the aroma intoxicated me, and I joined the waiting crowd. There I remembered another song.

Sunghke vada Madrasvala,

Khul jaye bhare pet ka bhi taala,

Khaake aisa kare dhamaal,

Bill dekhke ruk jaye sabki chaal,

Aaya chor Madras vade vala.

Well, new shop and the waiting throng. I couldn’t resist, and I ended up halving the weight of my wallet, but with the taste and the quality, it was completely worth it. Then my friend and I walked to the other shop, and sat down at the table. The vadas came quickly and they were steaming hot, direct from the frying pan. As we waited for them to cool, my fingers beat on the wooden table, and the words came to my lips.

Vada tu ab toh aaja,

Bhuka sa pet behke,

Aake pet bharja,

Tere tan ki jwala,

Tu thanda jaldi ho jaa,

Aise pet mein samaja.

Burp! Phew! Well, this was enough for snacks, but when it comes to dinner, I have a new song which exactly fits the bill.

Chaar thali vada,

Khaana mera lunch ka,

Chai meri jo roke,

Meine uthke usko thoka.

Now the wonder sets in, and as Shruti rightly asks me with furrowed brows and a tinge of anger, “Why and how are you so thin if you eat so much?”

Sis, here is an answer to your question. Not exactly mine, but yes, mine.

Meri umar ke naujavanon,

Khaana na khaana o deewano,

Meine pet bharke,

Wazan badhaya,

Aur gym join karli,

Par jhut toh kehte hum hai,

Kehte hum hai,

Pal sabhi,

Bhuk se badhkar nahi hai,

Badhkar nahi hai,

Rog koi,

Chadta nahi khaana khaake yaaron,

Iss sharir mein wazan koi,

Iss bhuk ka nahi hai ilaaj,

Duniya mein aur koi,

Toh khao,

Om shanti om.

Well, please do not eat Om and Shanti unless you are cannibals. And yes, even I do not know how I am thin, even though I eat that much.

Ouch! Oh no! Its dinner time already! I could fill my stomach with vadas, but too much of anything is bad too. So I’ll shift my attention to the other savories which await me at home. I’ll end this with a melody, and then I’ll let you in on one of my secrets.

O lasagna,

O pani puri,

Pet kar gayi khaali meri,

Garam medu vada cheen li,

Haaye khaane ki bechainiyan hai bhari,

Mein baitha hun bhuka,

Bolo samjhayun mein yeh gham kis kis ko,

Khali plate ab tum zara khisko,

Pet mein mere hai bhuk-e-disco.

Ahh, lasagna and pani puri, I’m salivating and being tortured every second I sit typing. But my promise to let you in on my secret binds me here, so I must control my feeling.

I don’t eat to live; but I live to eat. Food is my one true love, and I would do anything for it. But I do have some preferences. At home, I can exercise them, but at times, I have to let go, and wait for the opportunity to really enjoy beautiful food. Borosil. The one and the only thing which makes food all the more beautiful. There is a difference between tasty food, and beautiful food, and Borosil is the only one which bridges the gap in between.

With its wide range of products, Borosil has options for every dish we eat, from the starters to the main course to the desserts and then even the drinks. All the food we eat has taste, and can be called tasty, but all of it cannot be associated with the word beauty. If you wish to enjoy your food all the more, then my only suggestion would be to shift to Borosil.

You can have a look at their variety of products by clicking here (http://www.myborosil.com/) and I am sure that you will find what you need.

This post is written for The Beautiful Food Contest by Borosil in association with Indiblogger.

PS: The distortion of the above songs’ lyrics has only been done with the motive of entertainment, and is not meant to hurt or harm any sentiments.

The Princess

There I sat, at the table, on my throne awaiting the arrival of my guest, the one I had specially called for my birthday. As the clock ticked, my impatience broke barriers and I fidgeted unceremoniously with the two weapons in my hand, much to the irritation of my compatriots who sat beside me. Highly frustrated, and with mice running in my stomach, I pushed away, and with a loud roar, walked off to my chambers, commanding that my guest be sent directly there.

Almost as soon as I sat down, there was a tap on the door, and she came in. There she was, petite yet grand; her head bowed low, her skin shimmering in the light of my room. The long wait had been deserved for the beauty I was now viewing, so close to me, so near to me, and I was pleased that I had stormed away from the throng, giving me the pleasure of admiring this spectacle alone. My eye caught the waiting maiden, and I told her to leave, and to the waiting lady I said, “Hello my princess”.

She stood unmoved, stationary, as I walked to her, and my fingers trailed across her smooth skin. Decked in more colors than the rainbow could ever dream off, she was the 8^th wonder of the world; and the best ever made. The red of the rubies she sported in her ears was combated by the brilliance of the shining yellow of the gold loosely held around her neck, and together they added to the glory of the gentle serenity of her exquisite saffron robe draped around her arms.

There at the top of her head lay the green speck, tiny yet unmistakable. As I neared her, her scent intoxicated me, and a sigh left my mouth. I wished I could dive deep into her, and extract every minute flavor she possessed, slowly and steadily, savoring every mouthful. I took her and walked her across the room, and seated her on the chair, and settled near her on the floor.

My lips slowly trailed across her, taking in each and every rise and fall in her skin, each bump as she melted in me. She was an elegant mix of spice and the sweet, and delicately graced with a unique zing. Her velvety skin was punctuated at places by the ornate silk fabric, which wasn’t as smooth as she was. Flawless was the only word I could have used for her, but it would have been an understatement in the first place.

Later on in the night, I escorted her slowly back to her vehicle, used, but still as spectacular as new. It shone as she did in the white of the night, glittering and gleaming and sparkling. It was an automobile perfect for a princess, and I knew this had to be made by Borosil. With just the right finish, I knew there was no competition for it. Borosil was the only one I could trust when it came to bringing in my love, my princess- my food. Borosil was the only one who lived through all the wars, and the throne games and the fighting; just because it was the best.

As the princess departed, I knew I would not have to wait long to see her, and I knew I could never stay long without her, never; and there was just one reason for it.

With a smile, I said to myself, my voice echoing in the night, “I am hungry, again. And I will always be hungry, till the end of time.”

This has been written for the My Beautiful Food Contest by Borosil in association with Indiblogger. To view the gorgeous vehicles for your succulent food, you can visit their website (http://myborosil.com)

The Beauty of Food

I am a foodie, and I can cook, a bit at least, and when people have a look at me, their first question is always the same.

“How come you are so thin?”

The bewilderment on everyone’s face is always good to see, and I guess people are jealous (I could and would have named some, but wrath is bad for me). I do not eat to live, but I live to eat. My choices and desires for food vary widely during each course of the meal, but when it comes to desserts, I do not have choices. I do have my likings, but my sweet tooth doesn’t allow me the freedom to let go of a less-liked sweet dish.

Reading the topic, my mind traversed from the greens of salad, to the succulent reds of the Indian main course dishes, to the yellow of the daals, and the whites of the varied types of rices. But then, my favorite course came back to me. Covering all of the colors, and the tastes, and the smells, and the textures. This was it. And I knew what I had to write about.

The smoke from the burning underside of the brown mass diffused into my nose and made me sigh at the wait. There it lay in front of me, a rectangular mass of crumbs, held together by what some would say magic, dull yet so attractive. It looked so strong, and it screamed at the heat it was enduring, waiting for its partner, to enclose him in the flow of her arms; covering every single speck of the brown.

There she flowed, like silk, melting everything near her with the heat she held in her body. Gleaming in the light, she slowly cooled down and embraced him altogether, hiding him from the world in her arms, and seeped into him. The essence of their togetherness was one of extreme pleasure, and as the white ball settled down on top, the warmth of the two made the coolness vanish and softened the cream.

The three together looked like a perfect family picture, something to be framed and kept close together in the heart. But then, nothing lasts forever. The silverware lashed in my hand as I slowly took a part of all 3 together as the mixed brown and white tears fell onto the hot plate below, I drowned in the tsunami of the intertwining flavors.

The rough part of the bottom, gently layered with the flowing chocolate and then the smooth and cold white blob at the top made me sigh with ecstasy and wish for more. The mild sweetness with the strong chocolatey lava followed by the immortally tempting vanilla ice-cream made me want for more.

Well, all this made me hungry. But as I waited for the next serving to come out from the kitchen, hot and steaming, my blogger’s mind looked intently at the other plates and dishes being used around me. The overhead lights gleamed in the plates and the silverware as though they had been made of crystal, so pure, and their beauty caught my eye. At that instant, I knew I needed them with me to take the appearance of my love, my food, to a new high.

I later asked the manager of the hotel I was in, and he told that they only used products from Borosil as they were the best in physical attire. The quality was extremely good too, and their presence should be a must in every restaurant, and even a house. When I expressed my desire to purchase them, he told me that rather than looking in each shop and trying to find something I liked, I could visit their website (http://myborosil.com/), and order online.

So, home I went, stomach filled, and the decision to purchase what had caught my eyes, all to make my food more beautiful.

This has been written for the My Beautiful Food Contest by Borosil in association with Indiblogger.