“Life isn’t a matter of milestones, but of moments”~ Rose Kennedy.
Well, well…it took almost 25 years and an article in New paper for my mom to get convinced that I am doing well in life.
I left Udaipur in 1990 for higher studies and worked for a few years before getting married & settling in Chennai for good. But then, my mom was always concerned about me leaving my job, until I got myself involved in activities related to my blog Lite Bite.
Later, whenever I called her to tell about my …

“But your looks, accent, mannerism…I can’t believe you are not a South Indian….you don’t look like a Rajasthani  to me from any angle” her gaze narrowed on my face.

“When in Rome, do as the Romans do” I replied with a cheery grin pulling out my glasses from the box and getting ready for the interview to follow.

She nodded with a naughty smile and started the audio recorder.

“What keeps me motivated is not the food itself but all the bonds and memories the food represents” ~ M Chiarello.

I had a chance to check into my favorite shop during my recent visit to udaipur. The shop holds a good collection of some exclusive and rare rustic foods from Rajasthan. I got surprised when the amount I had to pay for a handful of dried wild berries and beans came upto 4-digits.

“Madam, gone are the days when Ker-Sangri was poor man’s food. These are in vogue now and are much sought-after ingredients by many hi-end restaurants across the world. And we are the largest exporter for the same” He replied matter-of- factly while swiping my credit card.

She was a brilliant baker and we used to eagerly wait for Christmas so we could savour her rich fruity cakes. I can never forget that transparent box of neatly arranged dark, dense and moist fruity slices of Plum cake that she would lovingly share with us every year.

An Anglo-Indian by birth and a spinster, she was our English teacher who stayed very close to our colony in Udaipur. She was short and frail, she kept her long shiny white hair plaited down her neck and her hands would always smell like vanilla pods.

‘Life is a rough biography. Memories smooth out the edges.’ Dante G.

Time can forget some memories, but there are some memories which can make us forget time and those memories make life sweeter.
Growing up in 1960s and 1970s meant that we remained uninfluenced by technology and many other complex electronic gadgets. In simple words, our life was practically devoid of many material things such as Barbie dolls, Lego sets, Television, computers and cell phones. Which indirectly helped us enjoy nature and human relationships to its fullest form.

Adapting to new situations is absolutely essential to any kind of success or happiness in life. I was not born and raised in Chennai but have been living here for close to eighteen years.

New language, hot climate, different food habits and strict rituals at in-laws’ home in Chennai intimidated this simple girl from Rajasthan at first. Change is always unpleasant to some degree.

But over a period of time this city has grown on me.

I fell in love with my new city as I learned to speak the local language and started to follow the rituals at home.

There are many things in life that I wish I could keep with me forever. The memories and days spent at my hometown in Udiapur tops that list.

I had a chance to visit Udaipur last week, which incidentally was my shortest ever trip to my hometown. I started at the wee hours of morning, left my children behind for a week, changed two fights, killed never-ending transit time at airport, and then traveled by road again to finally reach Udaipur late in night.

Yes, I did it all in one day. But I am not complaining.

“We do not know the value of our moments until they have become a memory.”  ~Sam H. The saying reflects my school days, perfectly. I didn’t give much thought back then, but school days and school friends were the best.

Days pass and memories fade. We just didn’t realize how soon time flew past. Distance, family commitments and work pressure is keeping many of us away from each other. But our bond of friendship is still strong and the good memories are with us forever.

“A mother’s love, it knows no end. It begins with a dream, with a silent wish, and it never ever ends.” ~ Kelly.

As they say that “A mother is a mother from the moment her baby is first placed in her arms until eternity. It didn’t matter if her child were three, thirteen, or thirty.”  After being a mother myself, I feel blessed that I can still just be a daughter that gets pampered and showered with love by her mom year after year.
It is strange how we hold on to our past through food, friends and family we leave behind. I was so happy to see someone visiting me from my homeland, Udaipur.

After spending close to 20 plus years in my kitchen, I am still unable to find the answer to my question, ‘what goes wrong whenever I try to cook the recipes of my mother.’

I use the exact ingredients, follow her instructions precisely, but my recipes never turn out to be as good as hers. No, not even the simplest ‘Dahi wale Aloo’, tastes the same.

“I dislike short-cuts in cooking. Ready-to-use spices in sachets or snapping those large plastic bags of flour are a big no-no in my kitchen.”. replied mom over phone, when I put forward my query to her.

“Well, you have loads of time to your discretion to make your own spices and grind flour, mom. I have to make-do with these short-cuts, until I get relieved from my family commitments.”. I replied and pacified my ego.