Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 4 Comments

Today morning I peeped through the blinds expecting the harsh sunlight, instead I was greeted by pleasant weather – blue skies, a light breeze and just enough sunshine to brighten up my gloomy mood. I had enough reason to put on my shoes and go for one of my mini runs. I had my shoes on and music blaring in my head. So off I went, enjoying the wind tickling my neck, breathing in that fresh air that I love so much.

I ran on the side walk and saw something that hit me deep. Someone had spray painted the word ‘humble’ on the sidewalk and I thought how a small act like this could reminded me of a trait I should strengthen. Being humble doesn’t come easily but it’s what I try my hardest to be. It’s easy to get a bloated head and think of oneself as better than the rest, to flaunt what we’ve got. Arrogance is never appetizing. Sometimes we don’t realize when we’re being arrogant or prideful. We think that’s just the way we are, that’s just “me”. But it comes across as offensive to the other person. So to bring us back to reality and to burst that inflated balloon of ego over our head, we need a sidewalk to remind us of what we forgot.

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Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 1 Comment

I’ve had enough sunshine.

The past few months I’ve been whining about the cold. But now, summer is here and it’s beautiful. Hot and suffocating at times, but still beautiful. I’ve been living in the Bay Area for nine months now and I think I can write a book about the weather. There are days when it feels like I’m living in an oven and the nights are so hot that I wake up with my shirt stuck to my back.

Like right now I’m sitting with all the windows open and it feels like time has reached a standstill. The leaves aren’t moving, the air is hot and the tap water is lukewarm. Only the birds are chirping outside. How are the singing when it’s so hot? All I want to do is put the air conditioner on high and float away in to a sublime siesta. I would do that if it didn’t make a sound that would bring the house down. Damn, all I ever do is complain about the weather! I annoy myself sometimes.

I used to think the weather had a big effect on my moods but my present status brings that theory to a screeching halt. We have learned that sunshine outside does not equate to a sunshiney Zarine.

Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 2 Comments

Mad Men Stories

I’ve started watching Mad Men and last night at the first season finale Betty Draper touched a nerve. Betty Draper is a bored, beautiful house wife and lives the life of every woman in the sixties. She takes care of her kids, makes dinner, is aware that her husband cheats on her, the usual. She visits a shrink to talk her life out. She lies down on a gorgeous leather couch, a cigarette between her delicate fingers, she is a thing of beauty. The shrink scribbles things in his note pad as she talks, never interrupting. But last night she did something that I’m sure everyone must have felt like at some point.

She suspects her husband of having an affair, in fact she knows but never confronts him and her shrink doesn’t offer her too much of a consolation. The bottom line is she is disturbed. Not depressed, disturbed. She holds the hand of a young boy and cries. She asks him, “Please tell me I’m going to be okay”. At that moment I wept inside for myself and for the hundreds of people who have felt helpless at some point. There are so many instances in life when it feels like we are standing in quick sand and nothing can go right. We don’t need comfort or a shoulder to cry on. All we want is for somebody to tell us were going to be okay. Just a tiny bit of reassurance that can go a long way and I know cause I have felt that too many times in my life.

The young boy in the episode doesn’t know why she is crying and says a simple I don’t know. She quickly gathers herself and leaves. I’ve never liked TV characters as much as I’ve liked book characters but Betty Draper, I love her character. And January Jones whom I’ve  often thought of as an ice queen is perfect in this.

I know how many times I’ve wanted someone to give me the tiniest bit I reassurance. If that’s what you’re looking for right now then trust me, you’re going to be okay, everything is going to be okay.

Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 10 Comments

Dosa and I have a wild ride.

Today was like Christmas. The tattooed FedEx employee was Santa Claus and my present was a Preethi mixie my Mama sent. I immediately tear the packaging apart and spend a minute marveling at this mixie which is everything an American blender isn’t. The mixie seals what’s for dinner – chutney and godumai dosa. I’m really excited right now as this is my first time making godumai dosa. I check hungryandexcited to brush up on the how to’s of the dosa and I’m confident enough. I make the thokku for the chutney, cool it and grind it in a second with my new Preethi mixie. I then temper it with mustard seeds and enjoy the smell of the curry leaves. Also, tempering is like my favorite part of cooking.The first few sodas are clumpy. I don’t wait too long before I flip it and it forms a paste on the tava. I don’t let that deter me, I soldier on. Finally I make soft dosas. I’m ecstatic. It’s 7.00 pm by then and husband walks in through the door, “Mmm.. You made dosa and chutney! So good!”

I beam proudly, so happy of my achievements. After we eat our spongy dosas and spicy chutney in front of the TV, I clear the table and take the dishes to the kitchen AND I SEE THAT I’VE LEFT THE STOVE ON AND THE PLASTIC DOSA FLIPPER THING HAS MELTED AND FORMED A PLASTIC GOOP ON MY BRAND NEW TAVA.

Someone please tell me how I’m going to flip my eggs tomorrow morning.

Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 2 Comments

Safe House

Imagination. That’s what enveloped the better part of my life. When I was a little girl the only ‘play time’ I ever had was in my head. Hence, I was a bit of loner although I grew up in an apartment full of kids playing around every chance they got. I was perfectly happy reading and living in my imaginary world. I visited beautiful places in my head and the adventures I had, well, I couldn’t explain them to anyone. My mother would always coerce me to go play with the other kids but I was more interested in wearing a beaded dupatta over my head pretending I was a princess locked in a castle from which I had to fight my way out.I was a part of Enid Blyton’s Famous Five solving mysteries, I sneaked out of boarding school like the girls in St. Claires and Mallory Towers, I was Jasmine from Aladdin, I was everything and I was happy. I could spend hours by myself and company distracted me. Playing with the other kids didn’t excite me. I was also the youngest and the other kids wouldn’t include me in their games. I was always considered uppu chappa. The only kid who wanted to play with me was a boy who was much older than me and he was more interested in my Barbie dolls than I was.

So my imagination was all I had, all I needed. It made me feel happier knowing that there was a place I could go to escape and all I had to was just push a switch in my head and I’m there. My imagination was what helped me get through some of the most darkest phases of my life. When the going got tough I would zone out and perpetually live in another place, a much happier place. This led me to avoid dealing with my present.

Consciously extracting myself from my head to live in the now is something I have to deal with every day. Is it a sickness? Or am I over thinking this? I don’t know. But what I do know that the safest place to be is in my head. When I don’t have the energy to deal with my life I’m glad to know that I have a safe house.

So tell me, what is your safe house? Where do you go to escape reality?

Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 7 Comments

“Don’t be talking to a stranger. Stranger means danger.”

There are are some days that are perfect. It’s a bright sunny day out. There is a heat wave(!) and you are sitting in a perfectly cooled cafe with a perfectly cooled mint iced coffee, reading a book you are completely engrossed in. You are one with character and you can actually feel the..

“Are you Palestinian Mozlim?”

“Umm, no. I’m Indian Muslim.”

Puzzled look. “Ohhh. Indian?!”

“Yea.”

“Are you from the part of India that is near Pakistan?”

“No. I’m from the south, Chennai.”

“I know many Braaahmins from there. So what do I see when I visit India?”

Yeah, I just want to get back to my book. It’s very hard for me to get “in the zone” when I read a book. Although I love to read, I am constantly distracted (thanks again to technology for my short attention span). I need to be comfortable enough, have a good reading snack, the light should be just right, etc. And it annoys me to no end when people want to make conversation thereby interrupting me.

Interruption, whether I’m reading, writing or even thinking, muddles up my line of thought. I’m sure most people feel that way so why would you interrupt some one who is completely smitten by her book. Okay fine, I interrupt my husband every now and then when he is reading but I married him. I have every right to demand his attention. You, however, are a stranger. The one my mother warned me about when she said “Don’t talk to strangers”. You have no right to drag me away from my book and force me in to having a conversation.

I wanted to tell him thanks for the attempt at conversation, good sir but I need to get back to my book. How can I say that without sounding rude? What is the polite way of telling someone, especially a stranger, to leave you the heck alone when you are in the midst of doing something?

Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 7 Comments

Give me the caffeine. NOW.

Caffeine has found its way in to a big part of my life. I need my cup of hot java every morning. Without aforementioned cup of java I go crazy. At first I brushed away the caffeine withdrawal symptoms as an every day head ache. No coffee in the morning makes me cranky throughout the day and talking translates to a rock band playing in my head. I feel like I’m carrying the entire world on my already large forehead and you better turn the volume down on the radio lest I punch you.

I grew up in a largely ginger tea drinking family. Coffee was present but did not have a big following. A cup every morning or so was not a big deal. But ginger tea was popular. A cup every evening, a cup with some vadai, a cup if there are guests, a cup if you’re sick and a cup if the guests decide to stay a little longer.

Six months of living here and tea has taken a backseat. I’ve started craving coffee like I’m on crack (I’m not). Coffee with banana chocolate cherry bread from Peets and I’m the happiest girl in the world, a little extra caffeinated, but still happy in my delicious  cloud.

I like the baristas at our local Peets too. There is this one girl who fascinates me. She has streaks of green in her hair. I’d love to get my hair colored in a myriad of colors. but unfortunately for me I will talk the talk but will chicken out when it comes to actually doing it.

I’ve been nursing this post for way too long. I’m just going to hit ‘ publish’ now.

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Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 10 Comments

How I Make Dinner

My experiences in grocery shopping was limited to driving my mother to the store and later, pushing around the cart while she did the shopping. After moving out (and being married) I have to do my own grocery shopping. Living in the Bay Area it isn’t hard to find an Indian store. You’ve just got to follow the saree clad Aunty and she will lead you right to it.

I love the store we go to. They always play old Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi songs. My mum listens to these songs endlessly when she cooks. So now every time I’m at the store I feel like she is next to me shouting at me for picking up the wrong tomato . The only veggies I know how to make reasonably enough are okra and potato, and the staple of any Indian kitchen onions and tomatoes. So I made them for a few weeks oblivious to the fact that there were other vegetables in the world.

One fine day we were sick of okra and potatoes. Jay was being spontaneous and picked out a random vegetable. We didn’t know what it was called. So we did a Google image search (thanks technology!) and found that it was Bottle Gourd. Another Google search later we figured out what we could do with it. And thus lunch was made.

As a novice in the kitchen, I would be right where I started if it wasn’t for technology. But I have now surpassed my own expectations. While I’m not yet a wizard in the kitchen, I can cook a tasty meal to survive. I have to give credit where credit is due and I thank all the amazing food bloggers who help me make dinner. If it weren’t for you, this household would just be a Maggi fest all day everyday. So thank you Nags from cookingandme, The Pioneer Woman and Haathi from Hungry and Excited for doing what you do.

Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 10 Comments

Just.. okayy.

There are days when you feel blue and down. All you want to do is bury yourself in a pile of chocolate and just lay there motionless. With  a bunch of cheese puffs thrown in for good measure.

Today is just one of those days.

Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 5 Comments

Dear Madras,

I hope you remember me. I miss you. It’s going to be six months since we’ve been separated and not a day goes by where I don’t think of you. Every time I walk out it’s silent and beautiful but I can’t help comparing my surroundings to you. I miss the crows cawing. I miss the sound of autos and the blazing heat on my forehead.

Please know it was never my intention to leave you. You know how fiercely I love. And loving you was inevitable. I breathed your air for twenty two years. We might have had a love/hate relationship but love always triumphs. I can’t seem to recollect a time when you’ve wronged me.

You remember the first proper article I ever wrote in college was about you. You play such a big role in my life even though we are miles apart. Remember all those long summer days when I cursed you for being so hot? Well, I could use some warmth right now. Living in a new country with no friends during the dreary winter is the perfect formula for depression to resurface. I’m using all my energy to keep from falling in to the dark pit.

If anyone knows my love for my clothes, it’s you. But here I have to wear a giant coat under my nice clothes and all that black is making me color blind. I miss leaving the house with just a layer of clothing and flip flops.

I miss your sunshine. I miss how happy you made me feel. I miss how I spent the best times of my life with you. You made me feel so carefree. You put me down, you picked me up and gave me the pat on the back that I so needed. You’ve seen my absolute worst and were a part of my best days.

I miss the beach so much it hurts. I want to roll on the sand and jump in the water. Remember that day in Fisherman’s Cove when the water just perfect? That was one of the happiest days of my life. I can’t count the number of times we used to bunk college with my friends and end up going to the beach. The beach played such a big part in my life. I used to drive there with my friends as and when we pleased and we would just have the best time. I haven’t gone to a beach yet here. I can’t wait to see if it matches up to yours. Even if it does, yours is always my number one favorite.

I can’t wait to come back to you again. But I am scared that when I do come around in a few years you would have changed and you wouldn’t be the same Madras that I left back. I want to say, “Please, baby, don’t change.”. But that is selfish of me. But I can say, please don’t become unrecognizable. I don’t want to land there one day and not recognize anything. That is my biggest fear. Please know that no matter where I go in life I will always love you with all my heart. Reminiscing about you will always bring tears to my eyes.

I don’t care if India Today finally decided to rate you as the number one city in India. You will always and forever be my number one city. New York was an amazing weekend. San Francisco always surprises me. You always make me happy. And that is all I ever want from life.

I love you and miss you.

Your girl,

Z