From Ratatouille:
In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talents, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new; an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking, is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook". But I realize - only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
Getting musical
I have been involved in a drama as a vocalist for the past 2 months.
What I have been doing so far is here: Surya Ki's Music
What I have been doing so far is here: Surya Ki's Music
Monday, April 6, 2009
A hasty experience
Going home should always be just a thought away. However, with complicated decisions in life we land overseas and are not left with easy choices to make.
Often a happy trip to home is preplanned, say 4-5 months ahead. It starts with looking for tickets online, contacting travel agents over and over again for a couple of weeks to get the best possible deal and finally purchasing the tickets. Then follows the announcement to family and peers, inquiring the "I want this" list from family back home or thinking of the best possible gift. The final stage involves a countdown of the number of days left for the flight to take off the foreign land.
I am no exception. However, my last trip had a 2 hour long preparation time. While it was long enough for me to reach the airport and do the formalities before taking off; it was too short to come into terms with the happenings of the hour. At such times, I believe you need a catalyst, and my friend V acted as one.
While my circumstances were turning out to be favorable in the previous week, and I had thought of going home, I had not thought of the departure day, time or flight. The Saturday morning brought some sudden thoughts of going home. It was as though someone saying on a coffee table, while having coffee, I am leaving now for home (which is across two oceans, by the way). And there I go calling travel agents - trying to squeeze a 2-3 week long process into an hour. V and I started doing parallel processing. Two phone calls in parallel to all possible travel agents. Within an hour, we had come to few possible choices. While the goal was clear - leave as soon as possible, I was trying to get the best deal and also trying to accommodate the-comfort-in-flight-journey criteria. I could not imagine the possibility of me getting ready (with no suitcase packed, and still trying to have some breakfast) for the most immediate flight option. The option demanded me to leave within an hour in order to reach the airport on time.
Just at that moment, V jumped in and said - "What are you thinking? We have two hours. Its enough. Get ready and pack your suitcase. I will do the paper work - faxing documents to the travel agent, purchasing the tickets. And the next hour we will drive to the airport." It gave me an adrenaline rush. I was filled with happy thoughts of standing at the doorsteps of my home.
And it happened. There were no extra thoughts from the moment of thinking-of-going-home to the moment of reaching-home; except the 35 hours or so long journey. And there I stood in front of my home, rang the bell and to the surprise of my parents, I was standing in front of them as though I am just a few minutes away. I thank my friend V for making going home just-a-thought-away experience.
Often a happy trip to home is preplanned, say 4-5 months ahead. It starts with looking for tickets online, contacting travel agents over and over again for a couple of weeks to get the best possible deal and finally purchasing the tickets. Then follows the announcement to family and peers, inquiring the "I want this" list from family back home or thinking of the best possible gift. The final stage involves a countdown of the number of days left for the flight to take off the foreign land.
I am no exception. However, my last trip had a 2 hour long preparation time. While it was long enough for me to reach the airport and do the formalities before taking off; it was too short to come into terms with the happenings of the hour. At such times, I believe you need a catalyst, and my friend V acted as one.
While my circumstances were turning out to be favorable in the previous week, and I had thought of going home, I had not thought of the departure day, time or flight. The Saturday morning brought some sudden thoughts of going home. It was as though someone saying on a coffee table, while having coffee, I am leaving now for home (which is across two oceans, by the way). And there I go calling travel agents - trying to squeeze a 2-3 week long process into an hour. V and I started doing parallel processing. Two phone calls in parallel to all possible travel agents. Within an hour, we had come to few possible choices. While the goal was clear - leave as soon as possible, I was trying to get the best deal and also trying to accommodate the-comfort-in-flight-journey criteria. I could not imagine the possibility of me getting ready (with no suitcase packed, and still trying to have some breakfast) for the most immediate flight option. The option demanded me to leave within an hour in order to reach the airport on time.
Just at that moment, V jumped in and said - "What are you thinking? We have two hours. Its enough. Get ready and pack your suitcase. I will do the paper work - faxing documents to the travel agent, purchasing the tickets. And the next hour we will drive to the airport." It gave me an adrenaline rush. I was filled with happy thoughts of standing at the doorsteps of my home.
And it happened. There were no extra thoughts from the moment of thinking-of-going-home to the moment of reaching-home; except the 35 hours or so long journey. And there I stood in front of my home, rang the bell and to the surprise of my parents, I was standing in front of them as though I am just a few minutes away. I thank my friend V for making going home just-a-thought-away experience.
Monday, March 2, 2009
What is your favorite ice cream?
One of my friends recently asked me "What is your favorite ice cream?" I have always found these questions very difficult. I remember at school many of my friends had a 'Slam book'. It had questions like: "Who is your favorite hero?", "What is your favorite movie?", "Which is your favorite color?" and other favorites. They would ask their friends to fill in their 'favorites' in the 'Slam book' while parting; often done as a memory to keep. (Or possibly, they could check with their friends few year down the line if their favorites have changed(?)). As for me, I like all rainbow colors and enjoy eating vanilla as much as I do eating strawberry.
I remembered being asked the same question, almost a month back, by a fifth grader when I was at my homeplace attending a gathering, of families all new to a locality. When my parents and I reached the venue, there were few men around. Two groups immediately formed - one was of all men and the other of ladies - my mother and me. As more families joined that evening, the groups grew larger and a third kids' group formed. Few of the kids were playing and two middle school-going girls were chatting. While I was still hanging around with the ladies' group, one girl came up to me and asked me to sit with her and her friend. I liked the offer and readily joined them.
The initial introductions happened. We exchanged basic profile data. Having done that, the second round of questions started and one of them innocently asked, "Didi, which is your favorite color?" I paused for a moment and replied "all colors" while the other girl spontaneously replied, "I like yellow". The one who questioned also had a favorite color. (I realized in such conversations there is no interviewer and the one who questions also replies to it.) I kept wondering "Do I have a favorite color...mmm." Then came another question - "Which is your favorite song?" I found this tougher than the previous one - tons of songs to choose from. But the two girls spontaneously mentioned their favorite songs. We had a couple of more favorite questions before we ended our conversation and went for dinner.
What came to my mind thereafter was interesting. I thought how easy it is to carry out a conversation by asking favorites. Simple questions and simple answers. The kids are really good at keeping things simple. I wondered if in the busy adult life people stop having simple favorites and tend to stop appreciating simple things around. Just a thought.
I remembered being asked the same question, almost a month back, by a fifth grader when I was at my homeplace attending a gathering, of families all new to a locality. When my parents and I reached the venue, there were few men around. Two groups immediately formed - one was of all men and the other of ladies - my mother and me. As more families joined that evening, the groups grew larger and a third kids' group formed. Few of the kids were playing and two middle school-going girls were chatting. While I was still hanging around with the ladies' group, one girl came up to me and asked me to sit with her and her friend. I liked the offer and readily joined them.
The initial introductions happened. We exchanged basic profile data. Having done that, the second round of questions started and one of them innocently asked, "Didi, which is your favorite color?" I paused for a moment and replied "all colors" while the other girl spontaneously replied, "I like yellow". The one who questioned also had a favorite color. (I realized in such conversations there is no interviewer and the one who questions also replies to it.) I kept wondering "Do I have a favorite color...mmm." Then came another question - "Which is your favorite song?" I found this tougher than the previous one - tons of songs to choose from. But the two girls spontaneously mentioned their favorite songs. We had a couple of more favorite questions before we ended our conversation and went for dinner.
What came to my mind thereafter was interesting. I thought how easy it is to carry out a conversation by asking favorites. Simple questions and simple answers. The kids are really good at keeping things simple. I wondered if in the busy adult life people stop having simple favorites and tend to stop appreciating simple things around. Just a thought.
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