Bhindi fry-ight!

'Bheja Fry' got better reviews at the cinema than the Bhindi fry served up recently at a Bangalorean hotel.

If software experts 'KISS' their designs to keep them short and simple, then why can't chefs 'MISS' their fries? Ever tried to tell a newbie chef to 'Make It Simple, Stupid'!

These days, desi chefs tend to overcook, under-fry, reboil, re-hash, remake, remix vegetables like never before. And why not? If movies like 'Bheja Fry' take inspiration from cooking, then why can't cooks get inspired by all the endless movie remakes and music remixes? (One hears that they tried to remake 'The Exorcist' in Latin, but the ghost apparently ran away).

Wassat?

The bhindi fry on my plate reminded me of all the principles of Darwin. I never could remember them at school, but I guess tough times like this call for tough thinking.

I tried to retrieve the Bhindi pieces from the gravy but soon realized that the Darwinian principles were attacking the situation with fierce determination.

Bhindi was swiftly losing out to Natural selection. After such an undigni-fried situation, Bhindi might just give up all hope of improving its own genes and decide to go extinct.

I noticed a Struggle for existence thingummy going on here. Bhindi was constantly swimming against the tide of choking, simmering, reeking gravy.

Survival of the fittest was a sure eventuality. Only the fattest bhindi pieces would emerge victorious while the others would get charred beyond recognition.

At least the globally acclaimed 'Gumbo' sets your expectations properly right at the beginning. You expect (look forward, actually) to see a watery, gooey mass on your plate.

But a good, wholesome bhindi fry sets one's imagination on the roll.

Green, moist, no -nonsense bhindis fried crisply to a nice brown color in fragrance-free oil. Add the salt and pepper generously and the bhindi fry has a fine place on a dining table. A hint of tamarind juice stirred into the fry will have the BBC at your doorstep, demanding the recipe for its global viewers. Mix in some Cumin powder and the bhindi fry deserves a place in Madame Tussaud's.

So you see, it's all a matter of taste. And a bit o' evolution.

Into a 'spirit'ual cave

On Friday last, the VMware Bangalore Tech pubs team decided to go 'cave-hunting'. We didn't have to go too far, coz' there was Gufa, which turned out to be an interesting restaurant-turned-cave (or is it the other way round?) on Jayanagar 4th block.

Inside Gufa

Gufa also served up some eerie statues and the call of wild animals along with the regular North Indian cuisine.

Our VMWare Bangalore TechPubs team awaiting some wild food:

L>Me, Arun, John. R>Niranjan, Fatema and Venkat

An eerie statue

Two of us were veggies and since our menu list didn't read too long, so we ordered in a jiffy. The others took time to make a choice from the vast four-legged species that the cave offered. I thought I caught a few folks look longingly at the bats which were hanging around, but they were not on the menu. But I guess apart from that, they could have had anything else a-la-carte.

The waiters seem to pop straight out of an old Kathleen Turner movie- if I recall, it was 'Romancing the Stone'. Or an 'Out of Africa' which starred my favorite heroes Meryl Streep and Robert Redford. Wish I knew about the Gufa dress code earlier on. Surely I would have worn a smart Safari suit and blended better into the wild background.

The dimly lit background troubled me a bit but there no cause for worry, really. No wild things fell from Punkahs above, as author Gerald Durrell described in his books.

Let there be light!

Well, our lunch turned out to be a delightful affair. We went as far as a sweet lime soda to make it a 'spirit'ual experience as well.

Spiritual, or Spirits?

When we left the cave and walked out on the familiar street, we almost heaved a collective sigh of relief. Birdsong was nice, and so was the cave, but there's something comforting about returning into the roaring human jungle.

Photo credit: Niranjan Jahagirdar

A journey beyond

The Art of Living Teachers' Training Program (TTC Phase I) turned out to be a fortnight long mind-blowing experience. Aspiring teachers for the Art of Living programs had come from all over India and the world. We shared the classroom with Pakistanis, Russians, Americans, Ethiopians and fellow Indians from other states. There were young and enthusiastic 20 somethings and mellow yet lively 70- year olds who attended the course.

In class with our teacher Prasannaji (seated on a chair)

The experience of living in a dorm with 200 other women trainees, waiting outside bathrooms at 3.30 am in the morning to have a bath, enhanced our endurance capacity. The arduous yet exhilerating yoga 'bootcamp' which lasted for 3 hours in the morning and 2 more hours in the evening pulled us out of the urban comfort zone into which we had all been trapped. The fantastic training on interpersonal dynamics gave us rare insights into the finer aspects of communication. The mystic spiritual process had us often walk around in a trance-like state.

There was community service too and I was part of a team that had to clear out the putrefying garbage dump, sorting out plastics and glass. Even a makeshift mask with my dupatta couldn't blot out the stench which emanated from the rubbish heap. But as time went on, we were competing with one another to find the most number of plastic bottles. And giggling all through.

Clean the garbage outside while you sort out what's inside you.

The Satsangs (singing devotional songs and chanting) which took place in the evenings were phenomenal, transferring us to a different plane altogether.

Guruji Sri Sri Ravishankar designed this course keeping the human psyche in mind, and he did it with such grace and perfection, as he does in all his projects and ventures. I met him along with others and talked to him for a brief bit.

"You are a publications manager? Then you must get into publications here." he said in his gentle voice. I was so happy.

I was glad I had introduced myself and this brief conversation had taken place between me and my Guru. But then I got to wondering, what didn't he know about me? He must have had such fun when he put on a surprised expression on hearing about my profession. And I fell for it!

I went home after bidding my goodbyes to all my classmates. I hoped that this enthusiasm and zeal which had welled up in me will last forever. But as I remembered those compassionate eyes and the benevolent smile of my spiritual Master, all my doubts suddenly vanished.