Day 133: Bleeding Blue

Cook-a-thon

ChaCha had a strong desire to eat some home cooked mor-koottu and I offered to let her experiment at home. So, the Sunday turned into a massive cook-a-thon at home. Chicken was added into the menu, some cleaning got done through the whole cooking process, and the lunch ended on a sweet note. I remembered how much I loved cooking to begin with. The last few months had scared me a little; had I lost the interest in this stress-relieving hobby, after all? After the cookathon, I realized the reason I was slacking off for the last few months was simply because of the lack of an audience. There is always an extra pep in the chop when you know someone else is around to share the meal.

There is something strange about the mind and its innate tendency to compare. As we were cleaning, marinating, cooking and eating the chicken, I kept going back to times with Dodo and the feelings from then. There had always been an excitement about a man that loved cooking. There would be moments of irritation when he’d automatically assume that I was the sous-chef, never the lead. There would be mirth in fighting between the classic rock that we loved then and the more subtle songs he loved now. At the end of the day, there would be a lot of whining about his job or his life, things for which the answer was always found only between the sheets. This communion felt different.

It differed in all aspects except the part where I was left cleaning an entire sink of used utensils, all by myself. It’s funny how this was a bone of contention with Dodo as well, and is a point of discussion now too. But it speaks volumes about the women in the lives of these men that do not even make them realize the basic decency that goes into cleaning up after yourself. I still respect Tiwari and Superbiker for their sensitivity towards the matter, especially the minute they realized that I did not have the luxury of a maid. Clean-up sucks and that’s probably one major factor that would hold me back in the future from accepting such offers.

BeeeEfffCeee

The latter half of the evening was a fete. First football match in a stadium, ever, and the BFC fan club, the West Block Blues were the right company. Mado was a dear; planning the idea up, getting us the tickets and even finding awesome seats. The rush that comes with 20,000 people chanting, swearing, booing and cheering at the same time is unique entirely. One might not follow the sport, not know the rules, or the names of the players. And yet one wouldn’t stay away from the energy of the scene.

It was as exciting as watching a live rock concert. Amazing. At the end of it all, good football won the match.

Life would all be topsy-turvy if not for a few things fancy that put you out of your comfort zone. 

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Day 18: Of experiences

Numero Uno

The trip to the Special school was short today and yet eventful, if you asked me. There’s always something to learn and the principal is so inspiring to just talk to.

We were all genuinely shocked by how rude the teachers and the aayas were to most children in the school. It seemed like these kids needed a quiet, soothing voice to handle their disabilities while all they got was constant chiding and yelling.

And then I began to wonder how I’d react if I meeting these kids day in and out, and teaching them the same things over and over again. Some of these teachers have to repeat the same instruction a thousand times before the child might even recognize this. Any progress that they have with the child is reset when he goes back home. When the children come back from their summer break, the two months have taken away almost 6 months worth of training.

What surprised me most was the resilience the kids showed to any anger coming their way. They’d almost immediately forget that they had just been yelled at by a teacher. They’d hunt the very same teacher down to show her the art work they just made. A regular child, come what age, would have some amount of residual angst and with repeated chiding from the teacher, would begin to stray away. Not the special ones.

Aussies

Had an interesting session towards the end of the day, interacting with the exchange students from Australia. Their professor completely ruined and hour and a half, taking about some really disconnected, random things. Sometimes I think it’s the curse of us Indians. But once he left, I was able to review some of the major differences between their education system and ours. A few points that stood out are:

  • The school boards are entirely managed by the government. While states can design and run their own schools, the government oversees it all.
  • There are no prescribed textbooks. The board sets the curriculum and the curricular objectives and the entire planning process stays with the teacher. Powerful!
  • Most students take trade or skills courses after grade 12. Very few actually opt for engineering, medicine or pure sciences.

Fun Cooking Experience

Had fun cooking some unique dishes for the keto diet today. Made a keto coconut barfi since I’ve been craving some dessert since I got on this diet and Priya at Keto for India made it seem very easy. Turned out well although I think something needs to be tuned in the recipe if you’re using coconut directly.

The second trial was a broccoli cheese soup. Replaced cheddar with parmesan and it smelt like pizza all through the cooking process. So, next attempt is going to be the keto pizza that H was talking about.

Oh yeah! I smelt all the ghee in the coconut dish and it made me go crazy. Where’s my portion, lady?” Scotch 

Where’s my coconut barfi?