Superb in Taste this Caramel !

It is not easy to hum this song but i am humming it the entire day.  And when i am not humming then it is going inside my head the opening lines...Mreyte Ya Mreyte...and the rest follows as... hmm hmmm...
My Mirror, Oh My Mirror
Tell me who I am
You are me, and I am you, no matter how big you grow
to be and no matter how much you change
in my eyes you are still six, oh my mirror
I'm going to tell you my story
Tell me I am the fairest of them all
And the most sensual/ feminine of them all
Look and tell me what it is you see, oh my mirror
I'm going to tell you my story
Tell me why
My hair is not blonde
My hips are not small
And my lips are not full, oh my mirror
I will tell you my story
Tell me how
i can make it smaller
Or how to be beautiful in make -up
With my party dress, oh my mirror
Tell me who I am
You are me, and i am you, no matter how big you grow
to be and no matter how much you change
In my eyes you are still six, oh my mirror
Tell me who I am
Tell me who I am
Oh my mirror, oh my mirror, oh my mirror

The song has a sad overtone but don't know how or why it feels soothing. Maybe it's because " the sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thoughts".




 i hum along going through each of the beautiful characters of the movie of which Mreyte Ya Myeyte is the soundtrack of. And i wonder what was so special about the movie that i am spell bound and sort of mesmerized.

Even now as i blog i see
Layale- hopelessly in love with a married man ready to drop everything at the honk of his car. i can understand her yearning to know the wife of her lover, doubting her own self and always wondering what exactly took away her lover to his wife every time . i can feel her obsession for that woman.
As a third party witnessing all this it is acceptable as i speak to her, '' Dump that sod! and silly girl why aren't you paying any heed to that handsome gentleman who even though issues a parking ticket excuses you each time because for him you are his "sunshine"?
Nisrine- Although eager and happy about her marriage is in constant fear of being discovered by her husband of her past indiscretions.
And i tell her, '' What rubbish can't you cook up a story about having met with an accident...while you were cycling...'' ?
Jamale- i am still intrigued by this wannabe actress who stages a fake menstrual cycle to remind herself that she is still young. This never say die woman who even suggests best for Nisrine.That the pigeon blood simulates human blood best and that just a few stitches and Nisrine would be as good as new.
'' Baby...it's okay, you are beautiful still and when you can set things right for others how hard is it for you to accept the natural process of ageing?" i seem to be telling Jamale.
Rima- Always the only one in pants feels attracted to her lady client Siham and is besotted with her smile.
To dear Rima-Run!! Please! leave that country if you can and start your life elsewhere where you might not be incarcerated for your sexuality .
Rosie- i cry with this seamstress as she wipes her make-up sacrificing a promising relationship prioritizing her duty towards her elder sister who has lost her mind. i feel an intense respect for this woman who shelves her own desire bearing the pain but still nurturing intense affection towards her elder sister.
i cry and cry and want to hug Rosie. The only sound that escapes my heart is, Oh Rosie! Oh my dear Rosie !!
Lily-  Naughty Lily always seen collecting bits of paper from the road and stealing the parking tickets and when situation arose even creating a row with the cop if she had to. Her lost in time and still stuck to the sweet memories of  her lost love makes me fall in love with dementia. Provoked by her tantrums i am even more convinced that old age is nothing but childhood revisited.
i feel like chiding Lily as i would a child whose being stubborn in her tantrums- "Why do you do this? If you continue to behave badly Rosie will be forced to lock you up. Now be good and don't run around alone."

What was so special about the story which reverberates with affairs of everyday people dealing with their everyday problems?
Was it the intelligent handling of a non-intriguing, non-showy story about relationships?
Or perhaps the way the director has progressed giving an insight into the symbolism involved which makes it feel like you are not watching a film rather witnessing an artist paint a unique story using his masterstrokes.
And this painting where burnt sugar is used for symbolism is not at all like a crossword puzzle that one may find difficult to crack.You don't need the artist to explain his motive about the abstract form used.
Did it appeal to me so much only because it was a womans' story revolving around five beautiful characters Layale, Nisrine, Rima, Jamale and Rose? Although there was one more who enthralled me none the less. No it couldn't be because i waited also for the handsome police officer Youssef to emerge and provide me with the glimpse of the very conventional and traditional romance so rare these days.
Maybe it was the music too...sweet, melodious and haunting. Not only the title track but also the sad overtures that played in the background as issues were dealt with whether it was the Neat Wooing of a lady by a man, Terrifying Binding Traditions, Sexuality that is not only Repressed but also Forbidden, The raging battle faced by us all sometime or the other namely Duty Vs Desire, The Pain that one is happily willing to undergo for the sake of beauty or last but not the very least the constant Endeavor of the woman in most of us to be in a constant state of Self Denial playing harmless tricks to convince ourselves that we are as good as 18.
Sure it was all this and even more. It was the poetry/painting that described/portrayed-
-the sweet and sour flavor which is LIFE
-the sticky relationships which do annoy us at times but we'd rather go through with it than escaping it.
-the pain which also brings forth happiness and fulfilment.
-the sisterhood that exits even in a salon where you don't feel one bit inhibited to express yourself honestly.
 and last but not the least the universality of human emotions.


Thus the song goes inside my head as i struggle with the pronunciations in Arabic and wanting to try caramel for myself.  i mean first making it with water, sugar and lemon juice and then tasting it, still hot.
Maybe even try epilation and see if it really hurts that bad.
Something else has happened too.                            
As of now Johnny Depp and Brad Pitt are out and it's going to be the so Omar Shariffly, hopelessly handsome Adel Karam.

Adel Karam

Reeling under the spell of the movie Caramel i am not annoyed for having missed it earlier but rather glad that i  

have seen one of the best movies at a time when there seems to be dry spell of a delightful ensemble drama everywhere...even in Hollywood!

To all who care i would suggest- please watch it in company only if you are certain that your choice will be truly appreciated and enjoyed. If not watch it alone and believe me you will not miss having any company. For this "...a colorful and sensual microcosm of Beirut where several generations come into contact, talk and confide in each other..." is not everyone's cup of tea.

It certainly wasn't my husband's as he slept peacefully throughout the entire movie and woke up only when the soundtrack played in the end and asked me with a smile, '' Finnisse?...chalo put on the news now."

i did not feel annoyed at him at all like i would have normally mainly for two reasons.

a) i was saved of his constant interruptions and restlessness and 

b) The revelation that the song did have something to wake this somnolent husband of mine.

                                                                         

http://lyricstranslate.com

The Song- Sound track of Lebanese Film Caramel

Arabic

Mreyte, Ya Mreyte

Mreyte ya mreyte ra7 e7kilek e7kayte

2oulili ana min

Inti ana, w ana inti, mahma kberti w etghayarti

B3youni inti setteh ya mreyti

Ra7 e7kilek e7kayti

2oulili ino ana a7la wa7de fihon

An3am wa7de fihon

Shoufi 2ouli eli tshoufi 2ouli ya mreyti

Ra7 e7kilek e7kayti

2oulili ana leh

Sha3ri manno ash2ar

Khasre manno asghar

W tme manno akbar, ya mreyti

Ra7 e7kilek e7kayti

2oulili ana keef

Badda asgharra

Aw yt7alw el 7amra

Ma3 fos6an el sahra, ya mreyti

2oulili ana min

Inti ana, w ana inti, mahma kberti w etghayarti

B3youni inti setteh ya mreyti

2oulili ana min

2oulili ana min

Ya mreyti, ya mreyti, ya mreyti

Image Courtesy:
http://lyricstranslate.com/en/Mreyte-Ya-Mreyte-My-Mirror-oh-My-Mirror.html
http://www.sinemalar.com/film/48267/Caramel/
http://www.adel-karam.com/img16.html
http://www.facebook.com/people/Adel-Karam/100000643054638
http://celebritywonder.ugo.com/movie/2008_Caramel.html

Resilience

picture by photographer Robert Brown

Life Begins Everyday

Do not say everything would be so senseless.

See the lonely rose bud in the garden as it blossoms in the winter.

Inspite of all the frost, the cold, For it- life begins every day.

It develops slowly like the bud, opens carefully the delicate petals,

Ventures, and then shines strongly.

Remember, even in the time of devastation,

Life begins everyday.

He was observing me keenly. My Man Friday at home and his name is Babloo.

My ritual in the mornings must have puzzled him at first but since he's also a son of the soil, a farmer first, it was not very difficult for him to crack the code. Like a bird that goes round and round in it's cage he found me restless as i would peer downstairs oft an on and bombard him with many questions. Quite recently the number one question- if he knew the local name of the shrubs that have become my favorites from the seventh floor.

He would just nod his head in the negative and i would after telling him the English common names plead him to catch hold of the elusive gardener and fish out the local name.

Just the other day he did something that i don't approve of generally but his gesture sort of touched me. i had sent him on an errand to get me some guavas and when he came back he held out his hand and shyly presented me with a branch of the shrub, the Hindi name of which he was unable to elicit from the gardener.

 i have this thing for plucking anything live from the plant or a tree be it flowers or even leaves. It makes me feel that it was brutally murdered or dismembered and was denied it's right to live a full cycle of it's lifetime. Don't know why but i decided not to give him any flora or fauna preservation lecture this time and dismissed the teacher in me for later. i held the branch gently lest i should injure the very delicate, hairy but feathery blossom.Then placed it prim and proper in a bottle filled with water. The branch looked prettier still in that small but lush green bottle and we both admired the arrangement profusely.

Then  next day something wonderful happened. My husband and i were out for almost the entire time during the day and when we got back in the evening Babloo first served us water and set the water on the stove for tea but remembered to inform me to go and have a look at the branch in the bottle. i obliged and the rest is quite a story if not history. 

i know a cyber shot camera is not the kind of equipment for perfect pictures but i am no photographer either. Nevertheless i shall try to tell the entire story with the help of the pictures.

Even in the bottle, sustaining itself just on water the leaves had closed just like they would have when the branch was still a part of the shrub but the bud stood erect. No drooping of the stalks visible at all.

The next day i had to undergo some medical examinations that required me to be on fasting so we set out early. When we returned in the afternoon at around 12, i was just too hungry. Since it was a Saturday and Babloo knew the routine well,  he had prepared delicious Kitchdree and two bharthas one of  Aubergine and the other of Potato. Back home these bharthas are better known as Chokhas. We relished the Saturday lunch all complete with achaar, papad, dahi and ghee (just for the day) added into the Kitchdree as per our choice plus the super Bengali sweet for dessert. After lunch got over we headed towards the bedroom to take a nap. But Babloo seemed a bit restless and anxious and continued to wait upon me like he had something to say. He signaled me with his index finger, jerking his head in a particular direction to notice the branch.

i had not even given it a casual look since i had returned home from the Pathological lab, as hunger and tiredness had sort of turned me into a cow grabbing at this and that for munching. This overlooking on my part had perhaps made him anxious. i smiled hoping something nice and new. i turned to gaze at the index finger and head jerked signaled spot. i couldn't believe what i saw.

 Suddenly i felt a wave of irritation run into me as i felt cross with myself. How pathetically hungry and tired could i be to have ignored such a pretty and awesome sight.

The bigger of the bud had begun it's flowering process. Now the stalk that held it was also bending into a curve. i was overjoyed and absolutely felt no need to take a nap at all. While my husband withdrew to the bedroom for a quick snooze i waited for Babloo to finish his lunch and we talked about the plant. The farmer in him had observations to share. According to him if that branch was still a part of the shrub the bud might have flowered fully. The fact of the matter being that here in this pretty bottle all it could feed upon was just water and the other important nutrients were denied to it for it to mature fully. i nodded in affirmation and debated inwardly if this was the right time to let him know about my true feelings regarding forced plucking and uprooting. But once again some feeling stopped me.

 i thus preferred to listen to his childhood tales about another of the same family which he said is called Laajwanti. i knew instantly what he was referring to. The Touch Me Nots what else?

Later while Babloo went away for his nap i nurtured affectionate thoughts for him and felt glad to have him as my companion in this common interest. Also i wondered if the bud would blossom to it's full maturity in that bottle. i'll have to wait and watch. In any case i am awed by it's resilience. Trying it's best to survive against all odds and be at it's best even when denied of life sustaining resources. 

Right now i feel like indulging in a flashback. Although this was just two days back.

Both of us eyeing the burst of reds in the bushy canopy of what appeared to be a Khejri/Shami shrub earlier.

That is before it showed it's true color which happens now in this season.

After handing me the branch with that fully blossomed Powder Puff/Fairy Duster and a couple or so of the big buds and one teeny weeny globule,

Babloo then leaves it to me to decide where to put it. i hurriedly ransacked the kitchen cupboard for an empty bottle. Got the perfect size, filled it to the top with plain water and propped the beauty in the bottle. It stood elegant without much effort.

The initial decision was to place the beauty on the dining table where we had just finished a sumptuous meal all complete with fresh Rosogullas for dessert. 

Later looked around for an appropriate place where the beauty truly stands out without much obstructions or any cluttered diversions.

On my table above the book?... Nah ! Neyt! Nahiinn!!

At the center of the bed headboard? looks okay but...

This corner looks perfect! So this is it...nowhere but here.

It's pathetic that my skills with the camera couldn't capture my motive here.The shadow of the tiny fronds coupled with the luminous green of the bottle that fell on the blank corner walls. Must do something about my CTD syndrome (camera tackling deficiency).

It was impossible for me to sit now so down i flew hopping and jumping stairs as i had no patience to wait for the already engaged  by someone lift. Cared two hoots for my leukocrepe bandaged arthritic hand as i was painless from this moment on.

Guess what i could be doing downstairs in the mid afternoon on a weekend when everyone seemed to be submerged in an aftermath of slumberous lethargy after a good weekend holiday meal?

Actually this time i was rather too pleased with the people less pathways and lawns. 

Sure enough i was trying to capture as much as i could for soon the blossoming season would be over. i was wanting to see the same sight of a bud bursting into feathery but minute globular curly bumps like a red berry on the shrub. 

 i saw none of that on the shrub but just the tiny convoluted buds, some larger like the size of marbles and some smaller fluorescent green buds and plenty and plenty of red powder puffs/fairy dusters on all the shrubs that lined the periphery of the society lawn. Of course the plenty is more visible from my seventh floor as they strike one as rubies that are scattered randomly in a sea of lacy but profusely netted green.

It feels so great to notice the change happening live even if it not a continuous one like the ones we see in the National Geographic Channel. Maybe while we are sleeping before the break of dawn the buds on the shrubs open out like freshly undergone metamorphosis Powder Puffs/Fairy Dusters. Nevertheless it was spectacular for me to notice a multiple globule in fluorescent green in the morning turn into a multiple globule of Ruby red in the afternoon.

" When did that happen"?  i  had asked Babloo in all my excitement after he had signaled to me the change. His assumption was sometime between 10-11 forenoon although he could not be sure. He was busy in the kitchen preparing Kitchdree. Or  it could have happened even before, at the break of dawn and we had failed to notice it because of our preoccupations in the early hours of the morning. However he accepted that he too was tardy and noticed it only when he was laying the dining table mats.

So, what if we missed out on that miracle moment, i am pleased enough to see a natural occurrence even when the conditions were amateurishly but unwittingly controlled. 

The slow motion not only ignites my curiosity but also imparts me with wisdom.

It is in nature for life to go on and on and even in subsistence it is simply, breathtaking!!

-:Glossary of terms used:-

Khitchdree- a preparation of rice and lentils that looks like yellow porridge only thing is that unlike sweet porridge this one has salt. Considered to be a comfort food easy to digest. In Bihar my native place this preparation is generally made on Saturdays. It is customary to observe simplicity on Saturday and dedicate it to lord Shani ( Saturn- The Lord of Saturday) and thus prepare this comfort meal which is easy both on time taken for cooking and also on the bowel.

Bharatha/Chokha- a preperation of roasted mashed vegetables like aubergine, potato, mixed vegetables and even tomatoes. The roasted vegetables are mashed and seasoned with salt, onions, garlic, ginger, green chillies, coriander leaves and a dash of pure mustard oil. There are two preparations in this.One has all the seasonings raw but finely chopped while the other has chopped seasonings fried and then mixed with the roasted vegetables.Then together they are fried again with a dash of some basic spices like cumin powder, coriander powder, dry mango powder and chilli powder.

While the rest of the country calls it Bhurtha or Bharatha, the region of Bihar has a unique name for it -Chokha.

Achaar-pickles made from raw mangoes, lime or even mixed vegetables. However the one that goes best with Kitchdree is the mango pickle but then of course some could prefer lime pickle too.

Papad-Either deep fried or roasted crackers made of lentils, potatoes, sago etc.

Dahi- plain home made yoghurt.

Ghee- (heated and used to spread on Kitchdree) clarified butter.

As the saying goes- " Kitchdree ke hain paanch yaar Ghee, Bhartha, Dahi, Papad, Achaar". Translated this means that Kitchdree has five friends, Clarified butter, mash, yoghurt, crackers and pickles.

Rosogulla-the very famous spongy and delightful sweet originally from Bengal.

Nah, Neyt, Nahiinn- all mean the same- a big NO!!

i'll sign off just now as i hear the crows...maybe the dawn is soon to be...should go and catch up with the marble sized ruby globule and see if it has blossomed feathery. i shall not feel sad if it has not for i shall cherish only the best moments that i had with my baby Powder Puff  and for a change i would like to call it a Cherub Duster.

Image courtesy:http://plants.swtexture.com/2010/06/calliandra-haematocephala-red-powder.html

http://outdoors.webshots.com/photo/1246735290029319295IXNpWg

The link that shows the varieties and gives more information.

http://www.flowersofindia.in/catalog/slides/Powder%20Puff.html