A Houseboat Ride

I was in my mother's womb again. 
With closed eyes I rocked from side to side cocooned in the amniotic fluid as the Earth, my mother, moved gently keeping time with the rhythm of the universe.
The backwaters of Kerala cradled our houseboat as it silently glided towards Kumarakom.
...

When I opened my eyes, I saw people going about their daily routine - women washing clothes, boys swimming vigorously, men servicing a bicycle, girls trying out new hairstyles, dogs looking on in anticipation as their masters fished. 
The breeze was soothing in the warm afternoon. We were told by well-wishing friends that Kerala could be "a tad hot in April". It was hot but we were used to boiling temperatures in Muscat so we did not find it uncomfortable at all. We were the only family on the boat at this time of the year.
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There were three men on the boat - Gopi, Vijay, and Jaykumar. They took turns at the steering wheel. At lunchtime they served us a simply-presented, freshly-cooked, authentic South Indian meal of kingfish fried in minimal oil, matta rice, papad, gherkin thoran, cabbage thoran, sambar, papad, pickle, and salad. Dessert was haphazardly cut slices of the sweetest pineapple in the world. 
...

The views during the ride were spectacular: A colony of ducks flocked together to make a little island, pink water lilies stood proudly in islands of foliage, blue birds hatched their eggs in an island of water shrubs.
This place seemed like an abode for divinity. 
We now know why Kerala is branded as God's Own Country. 

 

It's Time to Meet Camellia

 
"Camellia sinensis" murmured Sunniappan, our driver and tour guide, to himself.
He was negotiating a particularly tricky bend on the hills of Munnar which boast of the verdant tea plantations in Kerala. 
"Camellia, who?" we asked.
"Camellia sinensis is the botanical name of the tea plant" explained Sunniappan. 
Once again, we were awed by the knowledge of the Keralite people. Along the way, Suniappan, who had trained to be a technician but ended up being a driver, gave us the botanical names of several plants and trees that fascinated us. His wife was a botanist and some of her knowledge had apparently rubbed off on him. 

On the way to the resort where we stayed, we spotted some tea pickers dextrously plucking tender tea leaves. The scent of freshly picked tea leaves was heady and refreshing.

One of the tea pickers, Rani, flashed us a cheerful smile and asked in perfect English where we were from. These tea pickers are co-owners at the factory and share in its profits. Their families have good educational and medical facilities in the area.

At the Tea Museum, the next day, we saw a video about how the English explorers had found the hills of Kannan Devan suitable to grow tea - a prized possession in the colonial era. 
English literature informs us that tea was kept under lock and key during Victorian times by the ladies of the house.
An elderly guide at the museum gave us a demonstration about the different varieties of tea - white, green, and black.  
He claimed that the tea leaf was indeed the sanjeevani herb that prompted Hanuman to lift up the mountain. He went on to explain the health benefits of green tea as compared to the regular chai with milk and sugar that we drink everyday. 

Our visit to the Lockhart Tea Factory proved to be very informative. An employee named Ravi took us around the factory and explained the withering, fermenting and other processes that go into making the different kinds of tea.
After a tour of the factory, Indra, a young lady who worked in their front office, served us the most refreshing tea from the factory. 

During those three days at Munnar, we gathered a lot of information about tea and how to brew a good cuppa. 
Keep watching this space for more. 
Can't write more now because it's time to meet Camellia. In other words, time for tea!




 

A Wish Fulfilled

Imagine a fairy visited you today and granted you three wishes. 
Do you have three wishes ready?
Wishes are like dreams - sometimes they come true and sometimes they don't.
Most of us do not take chances and therefore do not have a wish list.
On the other hand, children always seem to have a wish list that is regularly updated. 
I spend a lot of time with young children so I keep a wish list too. 
I choose to believe in fairies. 
One of the items on my wish list was to visit Kerala before I die. 
The fairies recently made sure that my visa to the next world was stamped by making this wish come true. 
How, you ask?
Out of the blue, our phone company entered us into a lucky draw and gave us a holiday voucher of 3000 Omani Rials.
For simple travellers like us, this prize money was an astronomical amount. We spent a part of it in Dubai. With the remaining money, we planned a trip to Kerala in these Easter holidays. 
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Kerala had a special place in my heart even before it was branded as 'God's Own Country' by the tourism department of Incredible India. 
Kerala was the place where my favourite English teachers came from. At school, Sister Teresa Peter, Ms Rosamma, Ms Lakshmi, and Mr Issac drilled into our young minds the intricacies of English grammar with mathematical precision. 
All my Keralite friends showed an affinity for academics and overall excellence.  I loved their idlis, their banana chips, their gold-bordered cream-coloured sarees, and their accent when they said words like 'minimum' or 'umbrella'. It all had an endearing charm and simplicity. 
...

When I told Binu that we were going to Kerala, he sent me some stunning pictures he had shot of his hometown.

When I told Vijit, he offered to give me his house keys, just in case I fell in love with the place and decided to stay on. 

When I told Meena and Shalini, they gave me an insight about the feel of the place.

When Sadasivan, our friend, dropped us at the airport, I asked him what he wanted us to bring for him from Kerala.
He looked out at the arid Muscat landscape and said, 
"Can you bring all of Kerala here?" 

An Easter Breakfast

Easter coincides with spring festivals in many countries.

It is a time that celebrates the awakening of nature after the wintry months. It is a time of rebirth and also a time to rejoice in the hope of resurrection.

This time is celebrated worldwide in different ways.
A couple of years ago, I had the good fortune to have Easter breakfast with some Dutch primary school children. Each of them had nicely packed their breakfast baskets with goodies. The party ended with an egg hunt.

Some traditions need to be passed on to the future generations so that they too can find reasons to rejoice and feel a sense of belonging.

Mango Pickle for Beginners

When winter eases its numbness and nature rejoices by being bountiful, fruit orchards begin to flirt with our senses.

Mango trees, in particular, burst out in delicate filigrees of golden blossoms. In good time, little green commas of tender mangoes hang temptingly from their branches.

While boys eye the clusters of mangoes with stones in their hands, all over the neighbourhood, women begin their annual mango pickle-making rituals.
Among the various types of mango pickles, the Avakai pickle from Andhra Pradesh is a unique variety. You have to taste it to know the difference. And once you do, your taste buds will do a somersault.

I never imagined the process of making this traditional pickle would be so simple till Rani, my friend from Andhra, graciously gave me a step-by-step demo.
Here I have provided her recipe with due credits to Rani.


Avakai Mango Pickle

Important note: Select raw mangoes with tender and soft stones. Cut each mango vertically, discard the stone, and cut into 1" pieces in such a way that each piece gets a portion of the hard stone shell.

Ingredients:
4 cups raw mango pieces
1/2 cup salt
1/2 cup chilli powder
1/2 cup mustard seeds powder
1 1/2 tsp fenugreek seeds (roasted)
2 bulbs garlic (peeled and screened for blemishes)
1 1/2 cup sesame oil

Method:

- Apply oil to fistfuls of mango pieces so that each piece is evenly oiled.
- Mix salt, chilli powder, mustard seeds powder, and fenugreek to make the spice mixture.
- Mix the oiled mango pieces, garlic, and the spice mixture.
- Store refrigerated in a glass jar.

This pickle is ready to be served after three days.

Every bite of the spiced slice of mango will surely refresh your summer memories throughout the year.

Nadi Pariksha

“Just an examination of the pulse?” asked Cathy.

“Yes, it is an ancient Ayurvedic technique called Nadi Pariksha” I assured her.

“The doctor will feel your pulse for a while with his fingers and then give you a diagnosis. It can be quite accurate if you go to a good doctor.”

Cathy was suffering from nothing in particular and had a persistent feeling of having a dreadful disease whose symptoms surface when it’s too late. Like most people, she disliked invasive clinical procedures, so this technique appealed to her immediately.

...

“Good morning, doctor!” Cathy greeted in her big booming voice.

The young Ayurvedic doctor stood up and shyly shook her hand as he responded to her greeting.

“Madam, please sit down” he said politely as he gestured to the chair beside his.

“My symptoms are not very obvious, you see... it’s just...” said Cathy as she laboriously lowered her weight into the chair.

“Please don’t tell me anything" said the doctor with a twinkle in his eye. "Let me find out after I feel your pulse.”

This was an unusual experience for Cathy.

The doctor wrote down her name and other details on a notepad. Then he rolled up his shirt sleeves and instructed Cathy to stretch out her hand.

He placed his fingers on her wrist and felt tried to feel her pulse. He had to adjust his fingers a little before he found the right spot. When he did, he closed his eyes. His head bowed down as he concentrated.

Cathy observed that his face was completely neutral but his breathing showed signs of distress.

She had several predictions about her diagnosis and waited expectantly. It was difficult to face a doctor and not explain her health woes.

After what seemed like a long uncomfortable silence, the doctor opened his eyes and slowly released Cathy’s wrist.

“Well?” asked Cathy.

“Madam, are you ...er... constipated?” he said, not looking directly at her.

Cathy felt like a deflating balloon.

“No” she replied.

Then she looked at him, and asked with a mischievous grin, “Are you?”
(We love Cathy's sense of humour.)

"No" replied the doctor as he smiled back.

"But its not a nice feeling when I am. Madam, let me prescribe a few herbal teas for you to ease your digestion. You will certainly feel better in a week."

...

(Photo courtesy: Google Images)