When lazy asses get busy

Some of the most vivid memories of my childhood includes mom screaming at me to clean my room, organize my cupboard, do the dishes; most of which either fell on deaf ears or was met with a delayed response. Nine times out of ten I ended up being grounded or whacked by her to get me to do the work (PS this was all wayyy long ago :P)

One day I got so harrowed with all her screaming, I went out and bought a poster that said,

"If I were organized, I would be dangerous"

I mustered up courage to put the poster up on my desk and I would not like to recount what happened when she found it. However, the poster soon got buried in my ever growing pile of books and the mess. 

Later, when I made new friends, OF COURSE, I found the laziest of the lot. 

Meet Amruta or Charsi, as we call her, she was so lazy she wouldn't talk to us or hang out with us apart from college for over a year and a half of college. Ruchi, who just loves to sleep and me -- people who know me need no telling about how lazy can be. 

However, one fine Diwali vacation during college, we decided that we just HAD to go to Goa someday, all of us together. Of course we didn't have the cash to go and were sure our parents wouldn't be too happy to sponsor our trip. So we decided to get together and do something about it. 

I am not exactly sure how we came up with the idea, but with Diwali approaching, we decided to make diyas and candles. We would then package them to be sold door to door a couple of days before Diwali to gather money for our Goa trip. 

Well, the Goa trip never happened, and we still talk about doing one, but we came up with some pretty good stuff, which was all sold out. 

So, here's what we did.

We bought some earthen diyas from the old city market in Baroda. We bought lots of paints: acrylic, bold colors, pearl colors, etc. 

We also wanted 2D outliners which a guy in Baroda made himself. We got one in every color we wanted. 

Mom was, of course, not happy about our endeavor. We strictly asked to be confined to my room while at this. :P

So, first of all we painted ALL the diyas; we had about a 100 of them. This, alone took us a couple of days. There were later left to dry properly before we moved to step 2. 

Next step, and the best one was to start designing the diyas. We had no designs, nothing was googled. We just went crazy with ideas and implemented them.




None of us was a pro at using paint cones too. Of course we made a mess of the first few diyas, repainted them and got on with the work. We had all the freedom to go crazy with ideas, which was so fulfilling. 

We spent a lot of time together, the three of us; doing this.

We were really happy and content with ourselves that, for once, we were doing something like this indoors, rather than galavanting during the holidays and spending money on endless coffees. 

Everytime we finished a batch we would step back to appreciate them. 

We had very special combat diyas made by my very good friend Capt. Apari, which of course, we did not sell. I think we also made a pair with all our names written on it, as a gift to him. He was going to leave Baroda soon.

Now, if mom thought this was the messy part, she did not know what awaited her. Next step, Step 3 was to melt and fill the wax in each of these diyas, add the wick before it dries up (it barely takes a minute and a half to dry).

 

Lucky for me, mom used to work then. We were only allowed to use her kitchen till she was not in the house and we were supposed to clean it by the time she gets home.




There were accidents. Oh yes, there were! We dropped melted wax all over our hands, on the kitchen slab. We then got down to scrubbing it squeaky clean before she was back from work. We also managed to put one entire slab of gel wax on fire before we figured out how best to melt it. I think that was the worst part of the entire exercise.


Ruchi jumping up and down and screaming, pointing at the burning wax and Charsi trying to get a better shot of it, we finally doused it with cold water. Sigh!



I don't think mom still knows about this incident. So I should await a phone call once this goes up!

The diyas, finally done! 

Charsi (Damn, Amruta) later got us some nice boxes to pack the diyas, Once done, we went door-to-door in our individual neighborhoods and tried to sell them. We managed to sell all the diyas, we also got more orders, some of which we took and delivered but then had to stop because Diwali was getting closer and we were not allowed to get out much (relatives & other Diwali formalities).

 The final packaging looked something like this.

But, we were not done! We then went overboard when we realized that we still had some wax and lots of paint left. We picked up cutting chai glasses and painted them, took glass test tubes and painted those and filled them with wax. I think the batch of gel wax had caught fire when we were melting it for the test tubes.

Needless to say they were some of the best days we spent together. And no matter how much mom screamed, we couldn't have done this without her permission to mess the house up! :D

Of inspiration & fairy lights

A few years back I met a girl on the first day of college who went on to become my best friend. Although we had a lot of ups and downs, I found, in her, the madness that complimented mine and the appreciation of little things in life that I hardly found in anyone else, which I found really strange.

One such thing that we also shared was her love and appreciation for making things and she was big on it, much like me. She would plan these huge ideas and big surprises but would never be able to keep it from me for too long because she was too excited about the project. Another drawback was that she was new in my city, Baroda, so eventually after many failed attempts she would have to come to me to find an odd carpenter, glass cutter, polisher, etc.

Although there is a LONG list of things that she has made for me over the years, one of the things I still use is a beautiful lamp she made for my birthday.

She got the glass bottle cut in Delhi, made the wooden frame in Baroda, got the socket attached, but sat with me in college to paint with me on my birthday because I just HAD to be a part of it :-)

Anyway, the reason I write about this is because I have suddenly taken to making lamps and I don't know where it stems from. The furthest my anchor goes is to Ayesha (the best friend) and her antics for making this lamp for my birthday on time, so I think its her attempt that inspired me.

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A long time ago, I had told my friend Adeel that I love making gifts for my friends but that you have got to be really special for me to take the effort (I'm lazy, you know). Last December, our very own Adeel Khan became the first one, out of all of us, to get married. There was a lonnnnng discussion about what I was going to get him. Ideas were thrown, discussed with friends and unceremoniously eliminated. I suddenly remembered the smartass statement I had made some three years ago. And it was sorted. I was going to make him something for his wedding.

 So, I took an old Old Monk bottle....

The first step was to outline every little ridge that is there on the bottle. I used separate colors to make it more catchy. And then painted every little square in a different color (very tedious, yeah!) It took a long, long time but I couldn't even think of giving up as I was too eager to see what would become of it.

The biggest question in my mind was what I was going to do with the clear space in the middle of the bottle where originally the logo goes. I though of a portrait, a married couple (cheesy) and then though of writing their names and the wedding date. I wasn't too sure about that but then my friend assured me that this was the BEST idea possible as it would become a memoir of their wedding.

And so, their names and the wedding date, it was going to be.

Hours before my train to Goa, and yet to pack, I sat down to do the centre piece. And this is what became of it.

The text was later filled with color and the lamp, as the last measure, was filled with fairy lights or Christmas lights as they are known. I chose fairy lights because it would make it easier for the person to change or replace as and when required. 

I picked up the fairy lights on my way to the station after I rushed into packing. Sure enough I was carrying a box of paints and an extra pair of fairy lights just in case the fresh paint chipped off on my 12+ hour journey.

I finally got to give it to them after the reception and I was glad to know that they loved it :-) 

When I took to cooking

Growing up I have always been aversed to the idea of cooking. It was just something I could never see myself doing. I remember telling my mom on several occasions, every time she would pester me to learn how to cook, as a kid, that -- The only thing I want in a man is that he can either cook or, afford a cook/butler". It was that simple. And somewhere, I meant it.

However, I had always loved making desserts and salads from back when I was in Baroda and living at with parents. I remember being the official dessert maker at home every time my parent's friends were coming over. This hasn't changed even now.

I always had fancy ideas of cooking. Elaborate, fantastical, I would tell a friend or two that I am going to cook today, which would usually mean yummy sandwiches put together, along with a nice chocolate fudge or biscuit pudding for dessert. This, again, would only be once in a while.

A little while ago, I remember telling one of my closest friend one day that I am going try and make some chicken this weekend, although I had no idea how I am going to do it. I had a packet of ready-made Moghlai chicken masala and all it needed me to do is add some curd and leg pieces and heat it for it to be good to go.

I remember having a fancy idea of it being a Sunday and me cooking and asking my friend to be over for lunch, which is when he said: Cook, just cook. Not once in a while, not for someone else. But for yourself. Make it a habit. You will be healthy and you will save money.

Yes, I listened to what he had to say but never really got down to implementing it. As you remember, in my head, 'I' didn't look at myself as someone who will cook.

Then one day I wanted to have rice and kadhi and it had to be exactly how it was made at home. I wasn't home sick, I just wanted to have that. And so, I called my mom and asked her how it is made. She told me the ingredients I will need to get and how to make it.

Somehow, I had already figured it out in my head and that's exactly what mom said. I'm not trying to blow my trumpet here, but what I haven't mentioned here so far is that I love making things. I find it magical, ecstatic, almost healing .

And somehow, I have this immense confidence in myself that I can make, learn or fix anything, be it jewellery, broken furniture, knit, dance, weld, fix a car, so on and so forth, everything except cutting hair -- now that scares me and I believe I can probably never pick the skill up.

I set this blog up with the name, as you see, to document everything I have made over the years.

However, as much as I have always loved making things and watching things being made (Yep, there is a legit reason why Subway is my favorite), I never realised that cooking is about making something too, and watching it turn from separate materials, with individual flavors, into something so beautiful -- fooooood!

Coming back to the point, I don't know if it was my friend pulling me out of my fantastical world or the charm of living alone and growing up, but three days to this day back, I picked up the ingredients whilst talking to mom and went home and fixed myself a glass of whiskey & water and began cooking.

I had a friend over who is staying with me for a couple of days. She was watching a movie while I cooked. It reminded me of my dad as this is what we would do everytime he is visiting -- fix us both a drink while he cooks for the me and him.

I was at peace and I was making something. Talking to mom, getting, following her instructions; I watched curd and besan turn into Kadhi with a nice strong garlic aroma, and rice become aromatic peas pulao made in ghee, of course ( I cannot resist butter or ghee).

It was perfect. Just the way she makes it. Just like home. 

This I cooked, and served for myself and my friend who was there and relished it.

I was so happy and content, almost elated. I realised I made something, something which I never saw myself doing, and it brought me happiness.

This time I cooked for myself, not for someone else to show a skill off, or as a fancy weekend plan, but for me, and it was personal, which brought me much joy -- one that no one but I would be able to take away.

I Cooked!!!

P.S. Rules for the man have changed: I now need a man who would like to clean up after I make a mess making things ;-)
P.P.S. The Moghlai chicken was never made. I will, however, make it soon.