Burn's Supper

Every year, on 25th January,a classic scottish traditional event called "Burns Supper'' is held privately to commemorate the birthday of famous poet Robert Burns from Alloway near Ayr in Scotland . It started as a small get together of some of his friends reciting his poems over a wee dram (Drambuie whisky ) and Haggis ( a meat -based dish- because Robert Burns wrote 'Address to a Haggis' )and has now been adopted as a popular traditional event by most Scots when they prepare a classic dinner comprising of fine Scottish cuisine -Oatcakes with cream cheese and smoked salmon for starters,  Haggis which is a  spicy  dish made with foodgrains cooked with meat  (a vegetarian version is also available nowadays ), neeps(mashed turnips ) and tatties (mashed  /roasted potatoes) for the main course, and 'Cranachan' for dessert which is a delicious dessert made with pinhead oats,raspberries,whipped cream and golden/maple  syrup laced with a hint of whisky  . Gatherings can be formal in the form of ceilidh dances or informal at home with family or friends where the dress code is tartan .

            The first Burns supper I was invited for was 3years ago at some friends where a cosmopolitan mix of europeans toasted the event,each one bringing one dinner item from home like a potluck, and others like me,helping in cooking . Usually Haggis is bought from the shops as its too complicated to obtain all the ingredients from the butcher,and is the centrepiece of the dinner table .This is placed on the table after the lead male - usually a scotsman dressed up in a kilt leads the ' Haggis Procession ' followed by the youngest one holding the tray of Haggis behind him followed by the rest of the guests.Guests then gather around the dinner table with their scotch glasses in hand and each one takes turns in reciting a verse from the poem 'Address to a Haggis ' or the lead Scotsman recites it entirely ,stabbing the lump of Haggis with a big knife when the appropriate verse is recited.Dinner follows with everyone else helping themselves to the delicious simple food ,and this can be followed with a dance or games on history of Scotland etc .

            Last year, me and some of my friends decided to organise a Burns Supper my dear friend Karine's house .It took a lot of planning as we had a huge crowd of 25 people and had to estimate when and where to buy the food ingredients from and also, since we were making Cranachan which is a retro dessert recipe as well as cock-a-leekie soup(Chicken soup with Leeks) we had to research and try out recipes from scratch as not many scottish people from Glasgow had even heard of Cranachan , forget tasting it or guiding us with its recipe and cooking tips .

We shopped at three different supermarkets for the food ingredients including Costco  and   attempted a trial Cranachan a day before the party which turned out delicious and prepared for the rest of the dinner .  On the day of the dinner party, we had a hard time peeling the giant turnips as they were so hard,chopping them was even worse , we can't remember how we managed juggling all the tasks together as we do not have any domestic help but finally the starter, neeps , mashed tatties and   cranachan dessert were ready and Rosemary prepared the cock-a-leekie soup for everyone and brought it from home . Martyn was the only Scotsman in the gathering of mixed nationals so he was the star of the party in his kilt who led the Haggis procession and recited the poem and stabbed the lump of  Haggis at the dinner table . Though the preparation was so hectic , everyone enjoyed the meal , the dram and eventually a coffee with tablet which is a wicked scottish version of fudge -its sweeter and more brittle and heavenly though not so good for the teeth because of his heavy sugary content .  

Knitting bees

' Knitting bees ' is a group of friends who get together at each other's houses once a fortnight or more often and knit together .Women have been doing this for centuries,making things for themselves and for their family.Knitting is clothing made in spare moments using just a pair of knitting needles and wool sometimes   around the fireplace , a centuries old tradition that is still being kept alive via knitting lessons passed on through the generations  and various 'Knit and Knatter ladies clubs' being offered at local libraries for free .

 

There is something strikingly simple, constructive and bonding about the ladies who knit as they are a close set of friends who have been doing this for years. Learning new patterns from each other, chatting away while working , reminiscing the old days of childhood and newly wed life , laughing at the good times they have had and comparing their finished products to gift away to their loved ones seems like a much needed change from the hedonistic 'Kitty parties' we are used to back in India with ladies who compete to prepare the best dishes and overfeed each other, gossip and occassionally play card games or gamble to pass the time .

 

It seems like nowadays , knitting is the new Yoga - the peaceful clacking of needles creating a heartbeat , a rythm of rest , a meditative oasis in the midst of a frantic lifestyle . This trend may have started off as a marketing ploy by the wool industry but its certainly taken off . When  I asked a lady why she knits , she replied ''Because it gives her a sense of calm and order as its easy to keep order in knitting.'' And sure enough it is - count one,two,three.Simple numbers,knit one, purl one, yarn over needle , slipstitch.Easy does it.Drop a stitch and catch it up again.It's easy to fix mistakes in knitting .

 

Knitting is straight , orderly , neat rows with even numbers .Though the mind is not like knitting as its always messy and tangled , perhaps knitting in a simple order gives a sense of calm and peace at the times of stress .

 

Farmer's market

A farmers' market is a market in which farmers, growers or producers from a defined local area are present in person to sell their own produce, direct to the public. All products sold should have been grown, reared, caught, brewed, pickled, baked, smoked or processed by the stallholder.

FARMA, the National Farmers' Retail & Markets Association indipendently assesses and certifies farmers' markets round the country to make sure they're the 'real deal' so you can be confident you are buying the freshest, most local produce possible, supporting your local community and economy, and helping the environment by reducing food-miles.

    What makes farmer's markets special is these are probably the only open air food markets available in cities . Besides, there is the added benefit of regional produce that is available  directly from the farmers and butchers who proudly display and sell their wares . Over the years, I've seen farmer's markets with varying stalls selling unique food items like ' seaweed crisps ' from isle of Bute , ostrich burgers , delicatassen from the Provence of France , handmade medicinal soaps with herbs like Nettle, and even whisky ( The oldest soapmaker  Caurnie just perfumes the entire market ) .There is home brewed beer ,fresh  farm vegetables , fresh seafood , homebaking  and seasonal treats for everyone who wishes to have a morning out .

        





     
                    

Tea Room

  A traditional ' Tea Room'  is a must-see place for anyone visiting Britain. More than just a cafe that serves tea , its mostly a family-run , charming place that aims to provide a friendly welcome with home-baked delicacies, a relaxing peaceful atmosphere and an amazing range of teas and coffees too . 

        I happened to visit ' The Buttery ' - a classic English tea room in the city centre of Chichester recently on my day off work when I slept in late and decided to head out instead of spoiling myself all day by hibernating and cooking myself treats all day long . It was beautiful , non-pretentious and truly epitomised the essence of a tearoom - a far cry from the monotonous standard service offered by cafe chains , it has its own unique character that makes you instantly relax and marvel at its atmosphere rightaway.

             The buttery building on South street is known as the crypt but it should rightly be called an undercroft . The structure was originally part of a Guildhall that is known to have been there on the site in the 12th century .In 1396 it was demolished to build the new Vicars hall.

             

      The undercroft was probably used  as a cellar for storage . It has had several uses since then - an antique shop , a horticultural store and for a brief time in the 19th century - the city's post office before it was converted to its present use as a tearoom in 1957 .


                        I ordered a cup of Earl Grey tea and a scone for my 'brunch' which was served freshly within a few minutes.It was the biggest scone I 've seen and was deliciously warm and the tea refreshing. It was pretty busy with people of all ages who seemed busy and peaceful , some enjoying a quiet solo time reading the newspapers, others catching up on casual banter and groups of people at another table in conversation . I paid only £ 3.50 and had a satisfying time out by myself reading my magazine and enjoying one of the most common and simplest pleasures of life - a hot cup of a tea on a bitterly cold day .

          I've seen lovely tea-rooms that display an array of antique ceramic teapots of various shapes ,sizes and colours on the mantle . A few others in smaller towns and  picturesque villages   have a gorgeous setting like a view on the meadows , riverside view or a cathedral view . Most of them offer breakfast and lunch like quiches,pies  ,sandwiches etc . I'm  sure its  the perfect setting for people of all ages , men and women who want nothing more than comfort , peace and warmth to take a break from their hectic lives .


                                         







               

 

Test to become a Brit

I had been studying the immigration statistics,I also memorised the wide variety of welfare benefits available and learned all about the National Insurance . I had pored over the 145 page Home Office publication encapsulating everything I needed to know about the history,the education system,the political system and confusing general trivia about living in the United Kingdom . Studying for an exam after donkey's years is not only challenging,but also unnerving when its a citizenship exam that you pay £ 35 for . Its a tough passing score of getting 18 out of 24   multiple choice questions correct in 45 minutes and if you fail, you pay again till you succeed .

     I had taken two days off work to study as it required serious concentration and pointless browsing through the book was futile as each detail was too specific to remember . I took some practice tests online and prepared myself for the next day which would be my                 ' judgement day ' .

           Then , the fateful catastrophe happened.My just the night before the test at 7pm,my mother in law called to ask me if my family and friends were safe because she'd been watching the latest news that showed horrific terror attacks in Mumbai on the 25th of November 2008 . Because my in -laws had stayed at the Taj the year before that for my wedding,they were more concerned as they could envisage the seriousness of the attacks. Hell had broken loose not only in India, but also worldwide .

       Though my family had quit Bombay to retire in Manglore - our hometown in Southern India, I was obviously shaken watching the news reports on NDTV . It was too late to call India and I spent a sleepless night, and to add to my nervousness on the day of the exam , it was raining in the morning , my taxi arrived late , and he was as clueless as me about the exam centre address . Somehow I made it to the building only to be faced by a mini- sea of 30 other nervous and shivering candidates of various ethnicities .There were Chinese people, Carribean people, Indian and Pakistanis , all obviously discussing the attacks happening in Bombay . Most were economic migrants looking for a better life or , like me, had moved here for love . Some were attempting the test for the second or third time .We all agreed , in whispered exchanges that the test questions seemed irrelevant to British culture . 

       After an unnecessarily laborious form-filling process which took so much time, our exam fee was collected.We then sat in silence .Talking is forbidden . We were even made to remove any hats and scarves  and tuck our hair behind our ears in case anyone was cheating by receiving electronic feeds . The test was tricky, boring and difficult. I don't know how I managed to pass the test in such a tensed state of mind , luckily I had to work after that to keep my mind off the gruesome attacks in my beloved homeland.

        Clutching my passing certificate I called my folks in India to enquire about their safety . I informed my family and friends that I had passed the test though I was not informed of the score. I had mixed feelings - utter devastation at the aftermath of terror in Bombay and joy that I nailed the exam at the same time . It got me nostalgic about the first time I had visited London, just after the terror attacks there in 2005 and how tense the whole city was with security everywhere . Despite that I found Britain utterly beautiful during my stay  - the ecstasy I felt when I first saw huge golden fields full of daffodils , the woods carpeted in bluebells ,  whole mountains purple with heather ,the awesome beauty of the heavenly highlands of Scotland, Loch Ness , the medieval city  Edinburgh that transports you to another era when you step in , and the crazy bargains on the British high street that you can't find elsewhere in the continent .

     Living in Britain also means the much talked about dull, gloomy weather but hey,as my american friends say,British weather is ' tropical ' compared to Chicago or most places in North America which have harsh winters . Here the indoor culture is highly evolved to suit everyone's tastes - the theatres, art galleries and museums are one of the best in the world , and above all, free to enter (most of the museums in Scotland at least) .The Botanical parks are fascinating , so are the vintage pubs and shopping galleries . You meet a cosmopolitan mix of people who could be typical tea drinking sophisticates with impeccable manners , or fun loving quirky ones who work hard and party harder . Strikes are almost non- existent and you have access to food from all corners of the world to suit your pallette . 

           More than anything, Britain is almost the centre- point of the world for transit passengers shuttling between Asia and USA , which makes my home a convenient ' transit point ' for my globetrotting friends . Only six hours by direct trans-atlantic flight from New York , I've had my american friends visit me ,  friends from India have visited  my home too, my sister from Dubai who comes every summer ( daylight till 10.30pm at night in summer  is still fascinating for both of us ) and others who cannot wait to visit .

           My citizenship ceremony was fun for which I enjoyed designing my ' Indo-tartan ' avataar . No longer an outsider, I can now wholeheartedly join the robust debates about British society . A few of my girlfriends from Bombay have already moved and settled here which is a great feeling for me , I hope  many others will soon follow suit , or at least keep visiting me on transit at least , just like my home in Bombay used to be a ' transit point' .

Diwali - The Indian festival of Lights

Designing Rangoli with Mattisse,Sophie,Clemence,Nicolas,Cedric,Hugo and Alice at our Ecole Francaise de Bombay at Breach Candy in Bombay

Rangoli Made by little french students in Bombay in 2004

The modern cardboard sequinned readymade Rangoli

Diwali - one of the most popular festivals not only in India,but in several Asian countries .The festival of lights,colour,joy and love.A celebration of the triumph of good over evil by lighting diyas -small colourful clay lamps filled with oil and lit by a cotton wick, lighting firecrackers and multicoloured lanterns ,and exchanging sweets and snacks with friends and family.

Though I come from a Muslim family,as kids , we always celebrated Diwali by lighting firecrackers with our friends and neighbours.When we'd go to our hometown in Manglore during Diwali school vacations,we'd light firecrackers with our cousins.Later,during my phase of teaching at my job at a prestigious private indian school,we'd celebrate this lovely festival with the kindergarten children who'd come dressed in the cutest indian outfits,we'd decorate the classroom with festive art and handmade lanterns and prepare a class Rangoli with flower petals.In the higher classes,the young ones would have a 'Rangoli decoration contest' where their designs would be judged by the school principal .We'd share delicious typical festive sweets and savoury snacks together provided by the school.

A few years later,at my next job at the International french school in Bombay for the french speaking expatriates' children,as a teacher of English and art,I tried my best to teach indian culture and art not only for Diwali,but also other festivals.The pupils,parents and colleagues were thirsty for knowledge and significance of indian culture and thoroughly enjoyed participating in every aspect of  festival preparation.We 'd make paper lanters,paint Rangoli on paper with the help of stencil designs,paint clay diyas and craft replicas of firecrackers.Just a year before moving to Scotland,I got to see Diwali being celebrated in Dubai and in SriLanka when I went on holiday there with my sister which was very  colourful and pompous.

A unique, creative and original Rangoli designed by my friend Prajakta using M &M's and dry lentils

In each legend, myth and story of Deepawali lies the significance of the victory of good over evil; and it is with each Deepawali and the lights that illuminate our homes and hearts, that this simple truth finds new reason and hope. From darkness unto light — the light that empowers us to commit ourselves to good deeds, that which brings us closer to divinity. During Diwali, lights illuminate every corner of India and the scent of incense sticks hangs in the air, mingled with the sounds of fire-crackers, joy, togetherness and hope.

Bomb(ed)bay

The city of dreams - Bombay - where people come from all over to make a living and achieve success . India's commercial capital where all industries thrive -Bollywood , television,retail, commerce, small trades and multinational companies,academia , tourism ,the list is endless. The wild crazy city full of warm chaos ,over twenty million people , unbelievably skyrocketing cost of living and a sense of functioning that is unique to anywhere in the world .

   I grew up in the massive suburb of Andheri which I am told is the size of Zurich - only bigger . Navigating amongst the hundreds of lanes , roads , unsystematic railway station platforms and finding your way despite the hundreds of names of  streets and junctions in such a bustling megacity gives you a sense of sharp road skills and makes you streetsmarter than your rural counterparts who grew up in villages or smaller towns with limited geographical surface area . Why is it then that this wonderful monster city has consistently received nothing but stepmotherly treatment in terms of infrastructure and facilities from our politicians despite Bombayites paying the highest taxes in the entire country? 

   All my suburban friends and people I grew up with have always had a lifelong love,devotion and gratitude to this metro city that gives us our livelihood and education . Then something really nasty and unexpected started to happen : it was during my final year in high school ; the infamous Ayodhya-Babri mosque issue led to an aftermath of horrendous riots in Bombay which left absolutely everybody cringing in fear and fatal casualities beyond imagination.Then after a few months,  during our final Board exams in the last year of high school before we went to college - we had given exams for half of our subjects and we heard that there were serial bomb blasts in our own city .The stock exchange,the five star hotels,the airport - a total of 13 vital crowded locations struck in broad daylight .People had no choice but to pick up the pieces in their lives and carry on with their life .

   We Bombayites are so ambitious ,hardworking and busy with the routine in our hectic life that time tends to heal some wounds .Public memory is short ,there is always some or the other natural disaster in India like cyclones and floods, maybe that's why we are strong when we hear of deadly attacks on human life .There was the odd transport strike  now and then which did little to stop the workaholic overprofessional Mumbaikar from reaching his workplace.

After a few years when I was teaching in a private school in Powai which is the eastern zone of Bombay , there were serial bombs exploding in the BEST buses in areas where my co-workers lived like Mulund and Ghatkopar in 2003.The leafy peaceful suburb of Vile Parle where I studied and went shopping to the massive market of 'Bhaji Galli' ( Vegetables street) was affected too ,close to the railway station that me and my friends always frequented. Saddening was an understatement for this unfortunate incident. There were'nt as many casualities from this episode because the worse was yet to follow.

        On 25th August 2003, two taxis loaded with explosives blew up within minutes of each other at the Gateway of India - close to the Taj, and at a busy shopping complex.The attacks were one of the worst in the history of bombings .


       In July 2006 on a weekday peak evening rush hour, a friend called me to ask if I was ok because she saw on the tv that serial bombs have exploded in several local trains which is the lifeline of Bombay . It was horrifying to watch live coverage of the newschannel reporters who were trying to interview survivors and the deadly chaos that followed . As if it was not enough that just the previous year , for the first time , there were unexpected floods in Mumbai in the monsoon of July 2005 . And the devastating Tsunami in the winter of december 2004 a year before that . My girlfriends who had already migrated to the west a few years ago could not stop contacting their family and friends worried which scary disaster would strike India next - natural or man-made .

 For some reason the government cut off all mobile network coverage so communication was impossible because almost everyone is accessible only via his/her mobile phone.Over a 150 people killed,numerous others crippled for life and countless others witnessed grotesque scenes of  blood and gore on the railway tracks while all they were doing was returning home to the suburbs after working/studying in the town.

      Security was beefed up everywhere post the attacks - bags scanned at every public place -shopping malls,cinema halls,airports etc.Too late Mister Defence minister. Some sinister people were already hatching the ultimate terrorist attack plot to stab the nation not behind the back , but right in your face . And that happened three years later when a three day terror attack by ten men left the megapolis,the country and the rest of the world horrified,hurt , dead, injured and scared for life .

   No more needs to be said about the tragic event that happened in November 2008 . The very fact that only ten armed men managed to continue attacking the major public places of Bombay over a three day period goes to show how poor,unfair and disorganised our indian disaster management system is . The bottomline was that despite the previous numerous bomb blasts and terror attacks on Bombay,the city did not have a NSG(National security guard force - a mini-army specifically deployed for emergency public protection ) and by the time NSG arrived ( planes not available , buses were stuck in traffic) , the damage was already done . No amount of public protests, peace marches or petitions could bring back the horror embedded in the minds of victims,onlookers and everyone else who could relate to this large scale hellish event . 

       The next year in 2009 , when the swine flu epidemic struck, the government decided to shut down schools,colleges,universities,cinema halls and major public places for three days. Absolutely everyone seems to be walking on a tightrope since the past few years - not know what nasty surprise could strike next . I hope and pray like millions of others - NONE . We've already had enough . Poor Mumbai claims it has  not lost its spirit but its taken too much already and there is a limit of tolerance . I feel worse because my friends and family claim that work and family keep their mind off the violent attacks that happened in the past , but deep down inside, despite our robotic machine-like lifestyles, we can never forget , nor forgive .

   Bombay has the worst roads in India,leading to the worst nightmarish traffic and pollution whereas New Delhi is on CNG with wide smooth roads , like other cities in India .For some reason, Bombay seems to have lost its glorious charm like Calcutta . We have always been proud of our city no matter how tiny our flats are and no matter how much we are looked down upon by our rural relatives who remind us that they enjoy a better lifestyle with bigger houses , gardens and less stress in the smaller towns .

      The government is now building a sky metro which will take donkey's years to complete. Give it another decade and Mumbai will be even more flourishing ,more prosperous and  less stressful for commuting about . Its like the universal fact of life that its always the innocent, nice , good hearted people who get nasty unexpected things in life , in this case its the hardworking ,cheerful Bombayites who want nothing more than earning enough to look after their family and owning a flat . Let's hope peace prevails not only in Bombay , but also everywhere else in the world .