Hello my non existent readers!It is time I told you about the Australian heat. No doubt I could finish it all in one word"unbearable" but that would hardly do justice would it? Afterall it's such a heated topic these days and I am totally fired up to tell you about it.
Heat in the tropics would mean sweat, high humidity and generally lots of coconut water or rooafza. Here the sun steals on you, pierces you and refuses to set before 9 in the night. All the colorful parasols outside cafe's and all the grenada's and iced coffee they offer give you no respite. The leaves are still and even the flies get too hot and lazy to buzz and irritate sometimes. As much as my plants love it and sway toward the sun beam lovingly, I am forced to stand right below the AC all day long lest I should melt.
There is a hole in the ozone they say and the tear is right above us. Why on earth couldn't it shift a little to the right and rest above the ocean? What difference would it make to the water creatures? They live in such deep waters that the sun and ozone are irrelevant entities to them anyways!! As there is noone to check the rays, Mr. Sun here is having a great party throwing himself about. I can almost here my skin sizzle everytime I go outdoors. I look like a sultana after a mere 10 minutes rendezvous with the sun. For those of you who are wondering why I am complaining when I look like some bejewelled, beautiful princess.... a 'sultana' means raisin... and not some arabic beauty who married Alladin. Just by the way (and I don't know why), it took me ages to remember that sultana meant raisin. After calling it Shah Jahan, safira and all other names and linking it to precious stones, lamps with genies etc etc.. the meaning finally sank in.
Sorry for digressing but not wanting to look like a raisin, I usually apply copious amounts of sun tan. To those of you who like sun tan lotion...a big boo!! I hate it. It's sticky and generally leaves me feeling darker even before I have stepped out. Buying the right sun tan lotion and applying it the right way is almost very precise and scientific here. The appropriate SPF range for any particular activity and the upward stroke of application on selected areas of the body have nearly become major degree courses. I don't care, I slosh it on myself till a point when even my aura is soaked in it. I can only hope that it protects me from the mischievious rays of the sun sans ozone and all.
I don't mean to disgrace the heat or the summer in anyway. Afterall, I shall probably miss this heat in another couple of months and perhaps be writing eulogies when I am shivering in the cold. But for now the AC toils to spew some cool air. And I sit under it dreaming of cool coconut water and cocum sherbat....
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Thursday, January 10, 2008
My little 'town'
I have developed a certain fondness for Canberra, I feel very much at home even though it's been only a couple of months since I got here. Perhaps because it was the first place I saw outside of India. Or perhaps it has a subtle beauty that is really refreshing and fulfilling. Or just perhaps home is where the heart is. But whatever be the reason, I feel I've lived here for ages. Everything seems warm and welcoming and yet very familiar and reassuring.
Although Canberra is the country's capital, it is very unassuming and quaint. It looks more like a town than a city. It isn't crowded or polluted and there are huge expanses of open fields, green pastures, untouched hillocks and a generous sprinkle of lakes and water bodies. Most places in Canberra look like picnic spots. Kangaroos roam wild and free, sheeps and cows graze languorously, people go about their lives peacefully and unhurriedly.
The first thing I noticed here was the lack of traffic. Hailing from Bangalore where vehicles move because it's being bumped by the vehicle behind it, this was a relieving and interesting change. Noone's in a hurry to get anywhere. People wait for other vehicles to pass by while they perhaps entertain themselves looking at a twittering bird on a nearby tree. Pedestrian crossings were made here to make a man feel like a king. Vehicles wait reverently while pedestrians cross the road taking their own sweet time. I remember the number of fights I have seen in India over people surrepticiously parking in someone else's place. Here things seem to work like clockwork. One car switches on the indicator to park while the others just glide by continuing their search.
I love the lakes and ponds here. Most are artificial water bodies but they have been planned so well. Ducks, black swans and pelicans float by in the limpid waters. I feed them often and I never knew that ducks had so much personality. Wooden benches border the lakes. Any one of these lakes and the avenue of trees leading to it could feature in a hallmark card. It looks so enriching and green with boughs laden with colorful flowers overhanging the ponds and lakes.
I started writing about Canberra because this morning I was thinking of the new year's eve I spent here. I suppose for most people Sydney would be a better choice as it boasts of it's world famous bonanza of fireworks. We didn't make it to Sydney this time because it was too hot to drive there. We settled for the fireworks in our little 'town'. I haven't seen anything more personal and cute. It took place in the small town square, sombre and for a very short while. There were cozy tents pitched selling burgers, hot dogs and coffee. There was a stage on which a rock band was singing throughout the night testing everything from Beegees to Ricky Martin.
Families had gathered, dressed casually like they were just walking in their own gardens. Almost all the children had fluorescent jewelry to keep them from getting lost. There was a light buzz in the air from all the banter around, a warm breeze drifted about. Then all of a sudden someday shouted the countdown and then there was a spectacle of fireworks. Probably nothing to wrote an article about but it was the total ambience, the enid blyton-ish atmosphere that made it so special. People clapped and whistled and shouted new year greetings to anyone around them. The band then continued playing, the warm breeze drifted some more, most people dispersed but some remained sitting on the soft grass with their families listening to the music welcoming the new year.
To me it was perfect. I don't like crowd and noise. I feel lost in them. Maybe Sydney was a million times better in it's show but we would have had to wait and be shoved in the crowd. We would have had to struggle to get the right vantage point to see the best of the fireworks. Canberra was comfort. We strolled back to our car holding hands, wishing random strangers. Somewhere at a distance music flowed....
Although Canberra is the country's capital, it is very unassuming and quaint. It looks more like a town than a city. It isn't crowded or polluted and there are huge expanses of open fields, green pastures, untouched hillocks and a generous sprinkle of lakes and water bodies. Most places in Canberra look like picnic spots. Kangaroos roam wild and free, sheeps and cows graze languorously, people go about their lives peacefully and unhurriedly.
The first thing I noticed here was the lack of traffic. Hailing from Bangalore where vehicles move because it's being bumped by the vehicle behind it, this was a relieving and interesting change. Noone's in a hurry to get anywhere. People wait for other vehicles to pass by while they perhaps entertain themselves looking at a twittering bird on a nearby tree. Pedestrian crossings were made here to make a man feel like a king. Vehicles wait reverently while pedestrians cross the road taking their own sweet time. I remember the number of fights I have seen in India over people surrepticiously parking in someone else's place. Here things seem to work like clockwork. One car switches on the indicator to park while the others just glide by continuing their search.
I love the lakes and ponds here. Most are artificial water bodies but they have been planned so well. Ducks, black swans and pelicans float by in the limpid waters. I feed them often and I never knew that ducks had so much personality. Wooden benches border the lakes. Any one of these lakes and the avenue of trees leading to it could feature in a hallmark card. It looks so enriching and green with boughs laden with colorful flowers overhanging the ponds and lakes.
I started writing about Canberra because this morning I was thinking of the new year's eve I spent here. I suppose for most people Sydney would be a better choice as it boasts of it's world famous bonanza of fireworks. We didn't make it to Sydney this time because it was too hot to drive there. We settled for the fireworks in our little 'town'. I haven't seen anything more personal and cute. It took place in the small town square, sombre and for a very short while. There were cozy tents pitched selling burgers, hot dogs and coffee. There was a stage on which a rock band was singing throughout the night testing everything from Beegees to Ricky Martin.
Families had gathered, dressed casually like they were just walking in their own gardens. Almost all the children had fluorescent jewelry to keep them from getting lost. There was a light buzz in the air from all the banter around, a warm breeze drifted about. Then all of a sudden someday shouted the countdown and then there was a spectacle of fireworks. Probably nothing to wrote an article about but it was the total ambience, the enid blyton-ish atmosphere that made it so special. People clapped and whistled and shouted new year greetings to anyone around them. The band then continued playing, the warm breeze drifted some more, most people dispersed but some remained sitting on the soft grass with their families listening to the music welcoming the new year.
To me it was perfect. I don't like crowd and noise. I feel lost in them. Maybe Sydney was a million times better in it's show but we would have had to wait and be shoved in the crowd. We would have had to struggle to get the right vantage point to see the best of the fireworks. Canberra was comfort. We strolled back to our car holding hands, wishing random strangers. Somewhere at a distance music flowed....
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Last weekend I spent lazing about like a sloth. I refused to get out of bed and had breakfast and dinner served to me, finger bowl included. They say that most great chefs are men. Sexist remark or not, my husband cooks like a dream.
This was the feast I had for dinner. All this took him less that 2 hours to cook. I didn't get a photo of the breakfast he gave me but it was quite like a work of a french artist. It was extremely ornate and I stared at the food for so long that I almost forgot to eat.
This was the feast I had for dinner. All this took him less that 2 hours to cook. I didn't get a photo of the breakfast he gave me but it was quite like a work of a french artist. It was extremely ornate and I stared at the food for so long that I almost forgot to eat.
I am just getting beyond the point of charring my food and into maintaining the original shape and color of the food. I cook while my husband 'chefs', if I may be allowed to make a verb of it. Needless to say, it's another blessing added to my life and it makes me extremely proud of him.
Food in Australia is a delight. While the whole world shivers and eats winter fruits like apples and pears, I spend my days eating ripe juicy mangoes and lychees. Infact, I haven't eaten such good lychees even in India. Some of the other interesting goodies that I have tried here are: soft, warm, melting, sugary, custard-filled doughnuts; yogurt of all kinds of flavors; chocolates the like of which even Roald dalh missed out; pizzas made by true Ialians with eggplants and pumpkin in them; nachos with beans, cheese and sour cream which are crunchy as well as chewy because of the cheese and warm and soft because of the cooked beans on it; mango kulfi (Australia loves Indian food and I am surprised at the authenticity and the richness of the food.); turkish pide and the variety of dips; sticky balaclavas; delicious, warm, blueberry muffins etc etc etc.
Calories be dammed, atkins diet be cursed and gyms and measuring tapes be forgotten....these are the days when my taste buds are on a roll (literally and otherwise). Food has a newer and greater meaning now, much beyond the precincts of pani puris and masala dosa. I am always ravenous to try different tastes and different cuisines. Seems like I have landed in the right place.
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