Rainbows in blue

A few hours before dawn, quiet jazz was playing on the lawn. Dozens of red lanterns were hurled at the sky, and everyone watched in silence as they became one with the stars.

And it was six in the morning. The salty sea faded softly into the sky and the frothy waves threatened to drench her indigo. Little golden leaves around her neck caught the sun and trembled in the wind. She didn't really need that glow. In the tangerine light, she squinted to see the lagoon. The moment was hazy and clear like they describe in songs. There was laughter. It was the laughter unique to mornings.

That laughter is unique to the beginning of things.

And what else

I am getting wedded! In less than two months! I don't know why I put in so many exclamation marks, I'm not really that excited!

I have discovered that I like taking a 5 day vacation every month. I may need to discuss this with my boss.

I have also discovered that despite there being no truth to the matter, an increasing number of people are telling me I remind them of Madhuri Dixit. I think I need to just take it and go.

My tooth was mercilessly dug up, filled in, drilled, gassed, and now the crown has fallen off.

I have a flight to catch in one hour and forty minutes. Which means more single serving meals and more inflight entertainment. Yippee.

Look what's cooking!

Tomato Butter

tomatobutter, tomatobutter.

Say it quickly 10 times.

Sarsaparilla

You know when there were coniferous trees all around us?

You know when it was foggy and we couldn't see the mountains -

When Andre sang under a steam clock that chimed Westminster Quarters (and then Operator was not about winter anymore) -

When bartenders and patrons spoke in one voice -

When we hugged under a low ceiling -

When mornings were mornings and breathing was easy --

It wasn't too long ago. Let's go back there.

Two Danish Engineers

And what happened a hundred or so years after.

I miss it, you know. The bus rides and the girl with the liquid eyes and the perfume talk and clove, oh sweet clove. Daily gulab jamuns and shared plates and exam preparation and small talk and big talk and laughter. So much laughter. Riviera and seedha jaana right se. Anger and sadness, but above all, memories.

Everyone told me it was hard to make friends after one grows up. Here's to you suckers.

In case you were wondering

I'm still here. still happy, still colourful, still hyperthymic, dreaming about food and music and in general living the good life.

In addition:

My jibb, my man, he's with me. In NYC. Living with me under the same roof. Who'd have thought, eh?
I baked some kick-ass pastry-puffs and won this book at a baking contest of sorts. Held on a warm spring afternoon in the open air under the blue blue skies!
I finally started wearing my engagement ring. Took a while, that one.
I met so many yelp buddies and they are so nice and warm and they're quickly becoming my favourite people to hang out with.
I moved into my new apartment, painted it, decorated it, and it makes me happy to wake up in it every single day. Serious.
I performed in a singing recital at a Cabaret bar in the Theater District.
I got asked out by a cab driver, citing my uncanny resemblance to Madhuri Dixit. Sure.
My ma and daddy were here and I got pampered like there is no tomorrow.
I'm thinking of starting to write a recipe blog, and I am so excited about it.

Writer's block

Everything feels strangely choked, constricted, shut off. That colourful stream that unending stream just waiting to pour itself on paper. Remember? That disobedient stream that would pour regardless has been replaced by only a sense of looming cloud of dark words that threaten to spring themselves up on me without warning or ceremony. Except they don't.

Many apologies for the silence around here. Yes, to all of my three readers, sorry.

Bang bang

my baby
shot me down.

kyoot

Sometimes, I'm just in the frame of mind when I think everything is cute. Have you ever had those phases?

Anyway. A little boy/ say of three or maybe four, / in an afro stood at the/ corner of 76th/ and Amsterdam avenue.

His big sister she tried to/ pull him away and be on / their way but he wouldn't budge. / Stood transfixed, blankly staring.

Slowly a small crowd gathered/ (mostly women, of course), and/ they oohed and aahed from time to /time. It was so very cute.

In a few years he will be/ the same decaying matter/ as everybody else.

Just breaking it up into sevens for your reading pleasure. Who knows, you might think it's cute./

The baking roster

Just because I felt like .

• Brownies made with cake mixes and a stirrer, diligently stirring 50 times as instructed. The sickly sweet mediocre ones.
• Cheesecake, a homage to New York, a first experiment at baking from first principles, although admittedly the cream cheese was packaged.
• Red velvet cake. Given my reluctance to add artificial colouring, this one just ended up looking brown. And I also found it decidedly un-velvety.
• Recipe for cold lemon souffle - too little gelling agent = Cold lemon soup.
• Pineapple-upside-down cake, for my lovely beneviolent's birthday. I burnt the caramel the first time around.
• Marble brownies. Moist, crunchy, marble brownies. Swearing that I will never again touch a cake mix. What for? We've got real talent here.
• Banana walnut cake. I love bananas. I love walnuts. End of story.
• Blueberry crumb cake. Moist cake, warm, gooey berry filling, and crunchy buttery top. Say mmm.
• Chocolate chip sea-salt cookies. A revelation.
• French Macarons with chocolate almond buttercream. I am still shocked that I pulled this one off successfully.
• Lace cookies dipped in dark chocolate. Lapped up by 25 fellow bakers at a cookie exchange event. I'm still smiling.
• Lemon squares with shortbread crust. lemony lemony lemony. It's never too lemony for me.

Many more and still counting. A year later, I weigh exactly the same and I'm considering that an achievement.