German roller coaster and New Zealand Lamb racks

Life is a roller coaster.

How many times have we all said that? Philosophical looks? Heads nodding? Eyebrows knitted together? Grave expression?

The LITERAL meaning hit me last week!!!

As the small carriage (with us poor human beings cramped together in it) made its sharp turns, hurling itself up and down the slopes, my hair flying wild, vocal chords bursting with intense shrieks, clutching the bar infront with a I-want-to-stay-alive desperation, mercilessly plunging us now and then into darkness or water or whatever, adrenalin pumping, absolutely no control on life whatsoever, cameras flashing ... ....I thought,

Why ? WHY am I doing this? Am I not past the stage where I want to "prove" something? I closed my eyes (they were closed already from fear) and said a  silent prayer.

O God save me from such ventures now and forever! 
Give me the wisdom to say NO to such rides. Let me be normal. 
.......many many hours later(thats how long it felt), we reached the safety of mother Earth..
I opened my eyes and looked at Arno beside me..his face was flushed...his eyes dancing with glee...his excited and happy smile made me want to do it again!!! Haha!

It was a short break at school. We thought of surprising A-junior by visiting "Movie Park" in Germany. Everything was nicely planned and we set out for our destination. A-junior was TOTALLY thrilled when I dropped a hint....ok ok a bit more than a hint. But what we did not take into account was the fact that MOST parents in this part of the world wanted to surprise THEIR kids, hence the park was very very crowded. Each ride had a long queue..so long that you start making friends in the queue...a wait of 40 minutes on average...
This did not bother the kids at all. For me, every time I finally got on a ride, it felt like an achievement. And after all that wait, the ride was just 2 or 3 mins! (I know some felt like hours!)

But Arno definitely had fun....lots of it....on ground and in air! Other than that one roller coaster ride, honestly I had fun too. So did A-senior...
;-)

Now for some food...No story is complete without some food...food that was really good.

After all the fun in moviepark , we came back home and needed to do groceries. The plan was to get the regular bread, milk, fruits routine but somehow A-senior got totally mesmerized by the rack that had New Zealand lamb rack!! And he refused to budge from its side ...almost with the same looks in his eyes that Arno has when he stands infront of the CARS rack in the toy store! So in went New Zealand lamb racks into our trolley..and we headed back home ....a wide and satisfied grin on the husbands face...wife knowing that the rest of the evening she will be unloading the groceries while the husband will be researching recipes!! ..and lo behold thats EXACTLY what happened..

Anyway, very soon I was also pulled into this research scheme , since this was the first time we were cooking lamb racks at home. After some research, some google and some mutual consultations .. some recipes made it to the shortlist...and this is what we had. It tasted super..try it!!!!

New Zealand lamb racks in honey mustard.

I think this is how he made it. (I think!!)

But offcourse  like most chefs do..HE did improvise here and there ....

;-)

Ingredients:

• 1  lamb rack
• 4 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
• 1/2 cup of breadcrumbs
• 1/2 Tbsp of olive oil for the lamb
• 1 /2 Tbsp of honey
• 1 /2 Tbsp of Dijon mustard
• 1/4 tsp of sea salt
• 1/2 tsp of rosemary, finely chopped
• 1 large potato, 1 large carrot
• 2 Tbsp of olive oil for the vegetables

Preparation:

1. Heat the oven to 350F.
2. Put 2 Tbsp of olive oil into a baking tray. Place the vegetables in the tray. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Bake the vegetables on the bottom oven rack for 20 minutes.
3. Mix the chopped garlic, breadcrumbs, 1/2 Tbsp of olive oil, rosemary, salt, honey and mustard into a mixing bowl. Make a paste.
4. Spread the paste evenly over the lamb rack. [see first photo] Cover the bones with aluminum foil so that they do not burn and change colour.Place lamb in the oven directly on the grill over the vegetables. This will allow for the drippings to collect with the vegetables and will enhance flavours. By now the vegetables should have been cooking for 25-30 minutes.
5. Roast the lamb for 20 minutes for rare meat or 30 minutes for well-done.

We enjoyed it with some simple pasta like below. Enjoy......

Alu Chochhori and highlights of 2011 summer vacation in India

I have been thinking of this post for quite sometime. To be honest, a very long time. I had promised stories which were never told. I can ramble on about how busy I am and all that but still the fact is that it skipped my mind. Two days back when I was booking our yearly flights to India (summer 2012), it all came back. I am sure I will come back with more stories and more promises to write about them but what happens to the "highlights" of Arno's visit last year?

Arno says:

I went to India last summer (July 2011)--my 7th visit to India. It was also the longest one till date. I was in India for 5 weeks!! Every time I visit India, there is something new. This time it was the heat. All my last six visits were in winter...this was the first time that I went in the summer. Man, THAT was some SUMMER! However, I did not have any problem with it at all. My parents were the ones (inspite of being born and brought up there) who were complaining about the heat, getting all agitated if the AC went off for a minute, drinking lots of cold drinks, taking 3-4 showers a day, grumpy looks and all that....
I was fine. I had fun.
OK, I could not do much outside home because of the intense heat...so I had to be kept busy indoors. I had no problem with THAT! I watched a lot of TV...which I loved . Plus there were so many different "new" things to try out..I did not mind the heat at all...

মামা বাড়ির মজা

গিয়েছিলাম এই ছুটিতে আমার মামাবাড়ি,

কেমন মজা সেথায়, শোন গল্প তার-ই |

মামার বাড়ি ভারী মজা , কিল চড় নাই,

যেটাই বলি চাই, সেটাই তখন পাই |

মা তাকায় কটমটিয়ে, ভীষণ রাগি মুখ, 

দিদা তখন মাকে বকে, দেখেও লাগে সুখ |

সকালবেলা নাইকো তাড়া, কেউ দেয় না ঠেলা,

কেউ করে না চেঁচামেচি, গড়িয়ে গেলেও বেলা |

উঠেই দেখি জলখাবার এ ফুলকো ফুলকো লুচি,

চনমনিয়ে ওঠে জেগে খেয়ে নেবার রুচি |

একটু বাদে বাটি করে রসগোল্লা খান চার,

এক নিশ্বাস এ পুরো বাটি করে দিতাম সাবার|

TV দেখো যখন তখন সোফায় আরাম কোরে,

নিজের হাথে খুশি মতন remoteখানি ধোরে |

তারপরেতে দাদুর সাথে দাবার চালের শুরু,

এই বুঝি দাদু খেলো রাজা, বুক কোরে দুরু দুরু |

আমার ঘোড়া, দাদুর হাথি, কে বা কাকে খায় ,

মাঝে মাঝে ইছে কোরে দাদুই হেরে যায় |

তারপরেতে চানের পালা, বালতি ভরা জল,

সাবান দিয়ে বানিয়ে ফেনা, খুলে দিতাম কল | 

খাবার পাতে মাছের বাহার, কাতলা ইলিশ রুই,

তবু সব ছাপিয়ে লাগলো ভালো, ভাত দিয়ে টক দই |

দেখতে দেখতে ফুরিয়ে গেল এই বছরের ছুটি,

"আসছে বছর আসব আবার" বলে ফিরলাম গুটি গুটি | 
 

It is difficult to put together the whole story of five weeks. So I will give you some of the highlights.

I learnt to cook
Abu(dida) gave me a REAL knife to chop potatoes and then she taught me how to cook the  potato curry which goes with "luchi". Its called "Alu Chochhori". She even made me a proper chef cap. Later on when we all sat down to eat together, everyone praised the chef...yes, me! the potato gravy was delicious. I will share the recipe at the end of this post.
I love to cook. I also cook at home now.

I went into the bucket . Again.
Ma asked me NOT TO go into the bucket when I took my shower.  You know how moms are..Not this..not that..etc. That why God made grandmothers. I had a secret agreement with Abu (dida) to enjoy "as I wish" . She later showed me some photos when I was small and was allowed to take a bath IN the bucket. Why not NOW? Just a few years does not make that much of a difference, does it?

 I played the Indian drums.
So much fun it is. Believe me. Its called a "Khol". You hang it around your neck and then beat both sides with your two hands. The sound it makes is very sweet..loved the experience. I have two options now. I can be the "cool" guitarist in Holland or the "traditional" Khol player in India!!

One thing that I immensely like about India is the amount of attention I get there. Everyone and everything revolves around me..I feel important all the time.
In my dada-r bari (papas parents in Kolkata), its a joint family so there are many people in the house. I love it! I roam around in the house eating chips at Moni Bou's place, watching  TV at RangaBou's place, eating luchi at Munna's place, playing Trominos at my thammis place..I walk up and down the stairs thousand times a day to be at the place which suits me best at that time!. People are constantly asking,
"Where is Arno?" . See how important it makes me feel.....

I had unlimited juicy mangoes properly cut and served with fulko fulko luchi
In summer there are lots of mangoes in India. Dada went to the market every morning to get fresh mangoes for me which was then cut by Thammi or Munna in  small equal cubes , nicely arranged on a dish with a fork and served to me infront of the TV!!Pure luxury!

One good philosophy my mother likes and practices is that she DOES NOT scold me in India..though from time to time she does give me the looks that say, "cholo Holland, tarpor dekhachi moja" (Lets go back to Holland and then you are in my hands again)..but those were rare moments. My father does not believe in any such philosophy, especially in the hot summer!! Hihi...Having said that, I have to admit that he is the one who took me to nice places like Nicco park and South city mall while my mom was having her grand get together with college friends![I live in Holland with my mama and papa..have to keep both happy, you see?]
 
Recipe of Alu-chochori
Warning: Have this with Luchi Only.

Potatoes: 4 (cut into small cubes)
Onion:      1/2   , cut into small cubes (optional)
Tomato:   1  (cut in small cubes)
Green chilli : 1 (cut into very small pieces)
Nigella seeds:  1 tsp
Salt                 : to taste
Oil:                    1 table spoon
Turmeric:      a pinch

Heat the oil in a pan. Add green chilli and the nigella seeds. Let them sizzle for a few seconds and add the onion. Add the potatoes. Cook and toss them for a min and then add the tomato, salt and turmeric. Cook for a few minutes, pour some water, cover and cook. The final texture should be "makha makha".

I repeat: Have this ONLY with luchi.

As the first bite of luchi with this potato-gravy enters your mouth, you experience "heaven"!

.....am preparing myself for more such fun in July......tickets are booked...the count down has just begun.............

Abol Tabol Shopno

Sukumar Ray, has always been one of my favourites. His Bengali "nonsense" literature is unparalleled in its innocence and imagery. Even today, his poems are capable of winning hearts of both young and old. 

We presented Abol Tabol Shopno based on his Abol tabol for the Bengali New Years program in Holland. The show being a hit proved how his work is truly "evergreen" and "generation independent".

Undoubtedly, the star of the  show were the kids...the kids of today....kids born and brought up in Holland..kids aged 5 to 12....kids who are not fluent in Bengali....kids who cannot spontaneously relate to "ram gorur-er chhana"  or "danpite chhele" or a "ahladi"....kids who took time out of their busy routine life to come for rehearsals...kids who tried their best....
Kids who are the best!!!!

These little artists did a fantastic show in a FUNtastic way! 

First of all to expect that they would enjoy performing  to this type of poetry was beyond my expectation, honestly. However, whether it was the week-end rehearsals (where they also got plenty of play time) or the skit around their poems  or the funny explanations or the "rewarding chocolates" after their performances...or Pondit moshais snoring...or Bholas dance steps....whatever....the final result was overwhelming.
I , as the director of the play, am really very proud of you., my kids.

Well done.

The second set of people who did very well were the adults. We, the adults belong to a generation where we grew up with Abol Tabol. Each of us had a copy of this book either recieved as a birthday present or for scoring 80 in maths or from an uncle visiting or some such reason..we all had it. I remember taking my copy to bed ...reading till late at night inspite of the lights being switched off by the strict mom...reading till the torch batteries dimmed inside my blanket. Such was the connection for most of us. This was very visible in the enthusiasm of the adults involved in the play. It felt like going back to our childhood ..aboltabol revisited!

My "Pondit moshai" S, did not have time to memorize the script but he made time to actually order his moustache from Amazon.com.How cool is that?

L ,as my Bhola, though quite subdued during the rehearsals , really blossomed on stage on the final day and showed some dance steps which would put Govinda to shame any day.

S actually hand painted the kids shirts in a matter of days and oh so beautifully. I give her this dress-making-contract for all my future ventures...

R ran around many Hema stores in Holland to get the right T-shirts. I got phone calls in the middle of the day saying, "dayeeta, I got two 122 and one 134 shirts...shall I try the HEMA in Den Haag now?".

T made this wonderful noodles during our rehearsals which was so tasty and so much that the director (in this case, me) offered to take the left overs home. Delicious !!!

K made and remade and re-re-made the music so many times on the CD each time asking, "Dayeeta di, is track 14 the snore or the laugh?".

S readily became the substitute for whoever was absent during rehearsals...dancing to Bholas tunes or snoring as Pondit Moshai....both with equal zeal.

T climbed the stairs to adjust the lights high up in the auditorium...cleverly playing with the colours to  make the class room even more glamorous.

I cannot name all of the team.....but the bottomline was that this was only because all of US related to abol tabol much more than our kids..
We had fun.

I had SUPER FUN writing and directing this play. Look at my beautiful cast below.

It all started as "Let the kids perform something this year for Poyla Boishakh (Bengali New year) ". Since the mention of Sukumar Ray already aroused enough interest, we jumped into this project. I thought instead of solo performances by the kids one by one, it  might be more interesting to weave them into a sort of drama to make it more compact. So the project began. One one hand , I tried to make a script..on the other the kids started memorizing the individual poems under strict supervision of the parents!!
Lets have a quick look at it.......
The setting is that of a village classroom with a "pondit moshai" (teacher) , eight students and a door keeper Bhola. Pondit is only bothered about studies, but also tries to squeeze in  moments of nap (accompanied by thunderous snoring) in between his lectures. The students take advantage of this opportunity to enjoy and do things "out-of-routine". They also slip into a dream mode from time to time thinking about "what-if?"....

We start with Little A who performed "Ram Gorur er Chhana". She has a sweet smile....started off on a shy mode..surprised us all with the final performance where even the actions came pouring out!!
যাঃ বাবা হাসতেও  মানা,
হাসা কত স্বাস্থকর, তাও নেইকো জানা ? 
আমরা কি রাম গরুর এর ছানা ? 
Then came on stage the "naughty boy" (Danpite Chele) A...He is actually not a naughty boy (relatively speaking). I know , hi hi ...I am the mom. Smartly recited the poem and on the final day did not forget to even pull P's hair (as per the script).
আমি দুষ্টু, ডানপিটে  আমি?
জানো তো কাকে বলে আসল দুষ্টামি , তবে শোনো...
Our  next little master A came on stage without a moustache but recited a very long poem 

"Gomph Churi"  about a moustach--amazing how a little kid could memorize it so well...This is when the moustache from Amazon.com glowed in all its glory under the nose of our Pondit moshai..
যাঃ বাবা, এ তো গেছেন ভীষণ রেগে,
ঘুমোছিলেন বেশ , কেন উঠলেন জেগে?
গোমফ জোড়া তার বড়ই প্রিয়, রেগে গেছেন তাই,
এ যে দেখি হেড অফিসের বড়ো বাবু র ভাই !
Aha! Who do we have here? Our little "Ahladi"..With his sweet kid-accent N won all hearts! He was also accompanied by two sweet ladies on both sides...so even more attention!!
মোরা আহ্লাদী , মোরা ফোকলা , মোদের জুড়ি নাই,
যখন পাবে হাসি , তখনই হাসব মোরা তাই 

Thats T --Our little student who tried to solve the mysterious ways of the king of Bombagor by reciting "Bombagor-er Raja"--absolutely fantastic!!

একটা গল্প শুনতে চাই,

যাতে কোনো ঝগড়া নাই,
হাসতে হাসতে পেটে ধরবে খিল,
রাজা রানীর হবে মিল 

Thats P --she flawlessly recited "Bhoy peo na". The tone with which she said "Ami achi ...Ginni achen" still rings in my ears!! - Somehow we all felt that her father T (our talented lightman )taught her the tone!! Super performance!!! 

প্রশ্ন বড়ই উদ্ভট,
এও কি নাকি হয়?
ছয় খানা নাক দেখেও
লাগবে নাকো ভয়? 

Our little man R . He sees good in all things...what a wonderful poem.."Bhalo re bhalo"

  Well done !

এই দুনিয়ার সকল ভাল,
আসল ভাল নকল ভাল, 

কিন্তু সবার চাইতে ভালো...পাউরুটি আর ঝোলা গুড়...

        
How can I forget the two most important people who helped to keep the stage under control?

Pondit moshai and Bhola.

Pondit won the audience with his moustache and his snores and his booming voice...

Bhola's kept the kids in place and his dance steps will be remembered by the audience in the years to come......
.............and last but not the least our tiny-smiley-face R , who did not recite  a solo poem but his presence in the stage added that mischievous feel to the classroom........(eyes closed just beside Bhola)

We enjoyed ourselves....A LOT...

Hope you can  imagine our little artists in action and enjoy too......

Vacation in Normandy.

How does a vacation LOOK like?
Something like this? 

or THIS?

Maybe THIS?

Vacations are made to feel you better. They take you away from home so that the regular dishwasher, cleaner, washing machine, alarm clock and many other such things are out of sight and hence out of mind! This leaves ample space in your mind to be either numb or excited or relaxed...whichever it chooses to do and not forcefully burdened with!

I had the luxury to be in this state of affair during the easter break..(Had planned a longer vacation story but never happened...)
A wonderful relaxed vacation in France.
Amidst grasslands and farm houses, pin drop silence broken from time to time by the chatter of some unknown birds, sunshine ( ok, short but still..) and sweet smelling flowers, kids looking for easter eggs in the garden laughing and running free from the bonds of school and impatient working parents, glasses of lovely french wine being refilled by the men (without even having to ask for it), matching collection of cheese to sooth and massage the taste buds in between sips of the red wine, discussions with friends on any and every topic under the sun without the pressure of coming to a conclusion,clicking away and trying to capture some of these moments in the camera......What MORE do you want from a vacation?
I love vacations. Really. 
I know, so do you. 

Colours of Life

Holi memories from childhood are still fresh and colourful in mind even though its been ages. One set of memories take me back to the steel city of Durgapur where I grew up. Holi was celebrated there with friends from the neighbourhood..a day off from school...beautiful weather...colours and water....running in the streets...delicious sweets prepared by our moms..late afternoon showers with ma shouting.."thik kore shampoo korbe, jeno ekdom rong na thake mathay"...(shampoo properly so that there are no more colours in your hair.)...early to bed...exhausted but satisfied and happy.

The second set of memories take me back to a little village called Bhogolpur in West Bengal. This is a remote village where once upon a time my grandfather decided to build a house and a temple even though he himself settled in Jamshedpur for work. However, the yearly visit to this village was compulsory during Holi. The last time I visited was in 1996..my parents still visit this village every year during Holi. Its very difficult to describe this set of memories because my literary skills are inadequate to describe such a beautiful place and such an out-of-this-world experience.

One really has to experience this to get the feeling right.Having said that, I would still like to share a few snapshots of this set of memories, even though I know I will not do justice to the experience.....After that I will move on to describe the Holi celebration now in Holland !!(which will take two lines!!)

After several changes of buses and trains, we used to reach a small town called Kotulpur. Beyond this point nothing ran on petrol anymore. The only means of transport to the village of  Bhogolpur was "gorur gari"--a bullock driven cart. Each cart could carry roughly 3 or 4 adults. What a journey that was!! There were no proper roads, hence the bullock carts ran over uneven paddy fields, rough muddy paths, past someones garden, through some greenery, down the river slope and then crossed the river where there was minimum water. Mind you, there was no TomTom to announce "Stay in the left lane" . All we had was our driver communicating in a special language with the bullocks. Whatever he said to them was always reflected in their speed, sometimes relaxed, sometimes hectic-- our city bred internal organs screaming for peace and mercy most of the time. Even then, I can assure you it was super fun!! The short distance of 10-12 kms took two hours..by the time we reached our house we were already tired  and exhausted!
I have vivid memories of a kitchen where food was being cooked almost throughout the day....a big open space where  we all sat to eat together....a big room where all of us slept on a make-shift bed on the floor...giggling and chatting till late at night..woken up by the early rooster call...feels like a dream as I write these lines.
I can also clearly remember how Holi was celebrated. There was a huge Banyan tree underneath which we used to  gather , all friends and family together with lots of colours (only dry ones were allowed, no water, no paint)..a group would start singing some devotional songs accompanied by drums and other instruments..the small statues of Radha and Krishna would be taken out of the temple..we would divide into two groups and start throwing colours at each other trying to outdo the other group.The red and the pink and the green and the yellow powders would colour the whole atmosphere around you..literally making life "colourful"!
Towards noon, this frenzy of activities would stop..we all went to the river to take a bath and wash off the colours. Meanwhile fishing nets were thrown in the lakes and ponds around, a village lady sat by the side of the pond with a frying pan...fresh fish was caught, cleaned and fried...as soon as we came out of the river , fresh fish fry was served!!
Hard to believe , isnt it? Such was the luxury....
The downside was that the village did not have toilets and electricity, two of the most important things we were used to in the cities!! We all had to go to the fields to do what we HAD to do. As the sun set, lanterns were lit all around the house lighting it up but with persistent eerie dark corners where the light failed to reach. We , the children would huddle round a villager who knew the most scary ghost stories and listen with wide eyes of disbelief as he narrated how the ghost resides on a tree in the far corner of the village. From time to time we would glance at the dark corners and huddle even closer together till the aroma of simple rice and curry hit our nostrils and we would get ready for dinner. Today I write about it as "downside" but at that point of time there was no other option. Looking back it gives me the shivers to think about life without a light switch and toilet paper!!When I hear stories about the village today with all houses having electricity and toilets, I find it difficult to believe. How on earth did we survive those three days THEN?

I realize that few of us are lucky to have really been through such experiences. I cherish this set of memory and hold it close to my heart with hopes of visiting my village again some day in the future. 

Here in Holland life is different. Holi is just like any other day. The alarm goes of at 6:30 as usual, we get ready for school and office. Nothing special.
So I decided to celebrate Holi my way this year by cooking  a" colourful " dinner. I ransacked my larder and my refrigerator to see which colours I have available..and here is the result.

I made "Beet root chicken" with "Aubergine-Zuccini-couscous".

 Recipe of Beet root chicken
 500 gms of boneless chicken (small pieces)
2 beet roots (make a coarse paste)
one tea spoon garlic paste
one tea spoon ginger paste
half Onion (chopped)
one tomato (chopped)
1 tea spoon of cumin powder
1 tea spoon of whole cumin seeds
 a handful of brown raisins
Salt  to taste

In a non stick pan, heat 1 table spoon of oil  and add the whole cumin seeds. As it starts sizzling put the chopped onions , fry for 2 mins and add the garlic and ginger paste .Then add the chicken and the chopped tomatoes. As soon as the chicken change color, add the beet root paste, salt and the cumin powder. Let it cook for a while, then add a small cup of water and the raisins. Cover and cook.
Serve this "colourful" dish with couscous or white rice.....It looks and tastes beautiful.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU......

Happy Birthday To You....
Happy Birthday To You....
Happy Birthday my dear Blog..
Happy Birthday To You....








As I stood infront of the lovely cake she baked for me, I started wondering what is it EXACTLY that this lady , my creator is celebrating. Infact, I have been around for the last four years, never was my birthday celebrated before.Why would she suddenly celebrate my fourth birthday?
As if reading my thoughts.....she said,
 "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the fourth birthday party of my loving blog , "Life is colourful". You must be wondering why suddenly after so many years I decided to celebrate my blogs birthday. Let me tell you the reason--whether its good enough is for you to decide. On a certain day in 2008, extremely tired, I was surfing the web, going through mail, reading the newspaper and the sort. My son was playing around me with his toys scattered all over the place.  He was four then.
Coincidentally I came across a blog where a mom was sharing a story about her 6 month old son. It was about  how the kid turned in his bed and held his head up. It was so nicely written and so full of love that it made me smile immediately. Nothing special, I know...all kids do that! But this "small" incident sounded so "special" in her post. I looked up at Arno and the first thought that came to my mind was, "Oh Sh**! Why did I not write about Arno's actions all this time?".
I started writing IMMEDIATELY!!
http://www.dayeetasworld.blogspot.com/2008/02/junior.html
Unfortunately I do not remember the blog which inspired me to start writing, but whoever it was, THANK YOU. Thank you for inspiring me to give birth to my blog.
What started as mere curiousity actually stayed that way for a while. This is clearly evident from the fact that I wrote 4 posts in 2008 , 0 in 2009 and 5 in 2010! However, 2011 was remarkably different where I had posted 24 times. This is THE year when I really "connected" with my blog. This year saw me making time to write my thoughts..enjoying the comments of my readers..getting boosted by the encouragement of my friends and family..taking more photos with my camera..more photos making their way out of the camera to the computer.. believe me, the pleasure is all mine... Hence the reason to celebrate the birthday.The way it has become part of my life, I hope to celebrate many such birthdays in the future....
My blog is four today..Happy Birthday once again."
;-)

Thank you my dear readers, I feel very happy at what she said ..I feel part of her life as well.

Footsteps on the Sahara (Part 3)

Beautiful Marrakech..........................

I am breaking a promise. Actually the tagine recipe that I promised in footsteps on the Sahara part 2, did not materialise. The reason is very simple and hence understandable(please). I do not have a tagine. Yet! .When I made that promise , I was a bit too optimistic on the planning side. I had seen the shop where to buy it from and thought that I can buy it ANYTIME...that ANYTIME did not occur in the history of the last few days.I did want to bring one from Marrakech but you should have seen the incredulous look in the husbands eyes ("How can you even think of taking that thing in the lugguage?"). Remind me later to tell you that story......

Anyway, whatever the reason, for the time being, I decided to postpone the recipe till later but continue my Marrakech story before I forget the interesting bits (memory being affected by age and all that..we all agree to that, right?)

So, lets visit Marrakech.

Our entry into Morocco was not very pleasant. Christmas Eve is never a good day to travel. As if to confirm that, the flight from Amsterdam to Madrid (our transit en route to Marrakech) was already delayed. We reached Madrid and nervously navigated our way from one terminal to the other by train, foot, lift, escalator and many more modes of transport as fast as we could only to find that the boarding gate of the connecting flight had just closed. Smiling ground staff informed us that "we can do nothing now , please take a right and then a left and go one floor up to the IBERIA helpdesk to ask for more information".

Not a good start to our vacation!

We followed the instructions and reached the information desk. More smiling staff informed us that there were no more direct flights to Marrakech that day. However, they can arrange for a flight via Casablanca after 6 hours!! AFTER SIX HOURS! We did not really have any option...with grumpy faces the vacation family settled down infront of the big airport lounge TV. The airlines gave us lunch and snack coupons to  make up for this fault of theirs. We were made to believe that the positive side of all this misery was that we could choose ANY airport restaurant and eat all we can with these coupons. The joy of this compensation vanished very soon when we discovered that there were about two and a half restaurants in this terminal out of which one sold only soggy sandwiches. So not so positive after all. For the next half hour, CNN and Discovery channels in the airport lounge filled our heads and minds with repeated incidents of how Syrian troops shelled their neighborhoods and how a frog in the Amazon catches a fly! After a while I could not take any more of the fly-catching frog or the Syrian troops...so I went for a walk..in and out of the airport shops..buying a Toblerone...gazing at a Gucci hand bag...sipping a cappucino....spraying some PRADA from a test bottle...staring at the flight schedule monitor with hopes of the clock ticking faster...father and son duo were busy with their i-pod, i-pad, i-phone thingies....

Finally the "boarding" sign flashed for our flight.

So we flew via Casablanca (a short wait) into Marrakech finally late in the evening.

Hold on. The story gets more interesting. We lost our luggauge.

Tired and irritated..we took the cab to the hotel...ate a room delivered pizza and went to bed in the same clothes...I was sure that the whole vacation would be a disaster.

Next morning we spent two hours at the airport to get back our luggauge...rushed back to the hotel to shower and put fresh clothes on...and then, only then our vacation started.
The hotel claimed to be a 4 star hotel. Honestly either its a different "star-system" they follow or those stars were just wall decoration. We had a  "royal-suite",whatever that meant.The first day the DVD player was not working, the second day the TV blurred out, the third day our toilet flush would not budge, the fourth day there was no coffee for breakfast. The service was very good, so good that at times it appeared as if they knew. The moment we complained about anything, the reception guy smiled and said, "I will send someone IMMEDIATELY". Look at the one of the boards they had by the lift... such a spelling mistake in a 4 **** hotel! FEIR?
;-)

However, the location of the hotel was worth atleast 2 stars. It was right in the middle of the old medina and the new gueliz area of Marrakech. That was fantastic...

The old center square is known as Djemaa el-Fna. It is a large square lined with food stalls and other shops. Fortune tellers, snake charmers, musicians, Henna artists...name it and its there.It is actually a riot of activities..all happening at once..all demanding your attention...all equally interesting as well. Coming from India, maybe the surprise element for us was lower than that for my dutch friend who was visiting Marrakech couple of weeks back.

On one side of the square stands the tall and majestic Kutubia Mosque beautiful against the bright blue sky.On the other side is a line of horse drawn carriages waiting to grab the tourist for a city trip..the owners shouting their rates, each trying to offer a better bargain. We sat down on one of these terrace restaurants for lunch and started the day with a cup of delicious Moroccan mint tea. As I took my first sip and looked outside...I knew I would enjoy every moment of the next six days....

After satisfying our stomach..we hopped into a city tour bus that took us to all the landmarks of the city. As the bus navigated its way through the many crowded roads, it strangely reminded me of India..of similar hustle and bustle back home. One thing that I found immensely pretty is how the streets were lined with orange trees, loaded with oranges. My camera could not stop clicking..oranges from different angles. People are very friendly and informal. I remember one incident. When we were getting on the horse carriage for a city tour, Arno was very excited. He started touching the horses tail and patting the animals back. The father freaked out saying (in bengali) " Arno, keno hath dicho? ei nongra hath ta abar mukhe debe" [Arno, why are you touching it? later you will use the same dirty hand to eat]! The horse man looked at us , smiled and confidently commented to Abhijit..(Offcourse he does not understand Bengali)..

"He is a kid..and he is on vacation...ignore these small things"

It felt funny.The way he said it , it almost sounded like "Chill yaar!"
;-)

People on the streets are very much aware of Bollywood Hindi Movies. Wherever we went people spoke about our movies. One shopkeeper told me, "India-our friends", another said , "Mumbai ? Mumbai". One was very excited and asked , "Sharukh Khan? Mohabattein?". Hence pictures of our big stars in Marrakech airport did not surprise us anymore!!.


Now to the subject I love. Food. DELICIOUS!
I actually had tagine everyday.
Tajines in Moroccan cuisine are slow-cooked stews braised at low temperatures, resulting in tender meat with aromatic vegetables and sauce. They are traditionally cooked in the tajine pot, the conical cover which has a knob-like handle at its top to facilitate removal. What taste, what colours, what flavours....even as I write and remember the tagine dishes, my mouth starts watering.....the best I ate was a lamb with prunes tagine.....ummm....

I will keep my promise for sure. Very soon, I am going to visit the tagine shop and get one, cook a lamb tagine with prunes and post the recipe here..Promise promise promise...cross my heart...etc...

My Marrakech travelogue ends here......thanks for listening...