And it rained today

I am not a rain person. I have waxed eloquent my dislike for rains in this post . But then life throws you into situations where you have to face your dislikes and displeasures and you have to chew your own words.

We all know how monsoon has not been favorable this year because of El-nino effect and yada-yada. June came and gone by, July is half passed but we had yet to see a good rain this year. The weather has been extremely hot and humid. Everyday temperature sour to above 40 degrees. Add to it the extreme stickiness of humidity and frequent power cuts. Every night I cried for this cruel weather and power-cuts and every morning I prayed for rains so that at least we get some respite from this situation.

And just as we finished our lunch today, ZZ yelled from kitchen ( No he didnt cook the lunch. He was just there to put his plate in sink. I know there is no need of explanation but I just want to make clear in case doubts arise in your minds :p) "It's raining. Take out clotes from the cloth line outside". I literally jumped from my seat and opened the door. It was raining!!!! I danced my way to ZZ (imagine the bhangara and jumping singing "yay!!yay!! yay!! baarish ho rahi hain".

And I did the unthinkable. I have never voluntarily danced in the rain. I never have this urge to dance in the first showers of the rain that few of my friends have. But today I just wanted to go out and enjoy in rain. And did I have fun getting wet in rain? You bet.

I have never waited for rains like this in my entire life (may be waited for rains to go away) and I have never rejoiced its showers like today. But then one gotta face this cruel hot and humid weather to appreciate rains.

Am I a convert from non-rain person to rain-person. Cant say. But yes I do understand how rains are a harbinger of hope and joy in life.

Pic Courtesy: Google images

Love at First Sight: My Beautiful Food

“Bring the same consideration to the preparation of your food as you devote to your appearance. Let your dinner be a poem, like your dress.”
Charles Pierre Monselet (French journalist and author)

And what if the poem begins with the fragrance. Have you ever smell the waft of roasted cumin and cinnamon. And cardamom. And of rice. Yes rice.  So subtle, yet so strong.  Heavenly right.  I am sure no matter where you are , you would take a second long breath to seduce your senses. Hypnotised,  I inadvertently moved in the direction led by my olfactory senses towards the origin of this enchanting smell. In that small wooden table beside the kitchen of that cottage, right in front of me was the world’s best biryani sitting regal on the exquisite flat-plated glass dish. A glass bowl  of spicy mirch ka salan was sitting pretty beside it.

Oh, I was never a believer of ‘love at first sight’. I thought only blind can see and believe in such illogical sense. But if the rush of desire and radiance of ecstasy on seeing something (one) first time is the proof, I may well have experienced my ‘Love at First Sight’.

It was the pile of wealth for the hungry: enticing and so tempting. The aromaThe tri-coloured rice some of the long thin grained basmati rice have taken the colour of turmeric, some with the hint of saffron and some pristine white, was  interspersed with the choicest of seasonal vegetables. Well garnished with roasted cashews and fresh green coriander leaves, thinly-sliced ginger and green chillies lie atop the mound of divinity. The orange of carrots and the green beans were hiding in-between the flavoured rice along with the supple paneer and mushrooms. The pretty yellow and red bellpeppers were  adding vibrancy to the visual delight. Thin round slices of onion and tomato spread around the biryani as if a fort is surrounded by moat. The mirch ka salan was garnished with mint and coriander leaves. The transparent glass plate on which the biryani was plated was adding to the whole glamour of the dish.  The whole plate looked like a page straight out of food-magazine cover.

But just as love fizzles out if there is no inner chemistry, only outer appeareance, in the same way there can be this case of love lost. But love makes you yearn for more, makes you hopeful, makes you exuberant of your next step.

I hesitated to disturb the equilibrium of the canopy of biryani but then how could I resist my temptation. I served myself a plateful of the deliciousness personified. I could see the roasted bay leaves and black peppers among the rice grains. I can imagine how the bay leaves must have danced with noise when thrown in the hot oil with onions. And how heavenly must the whole cottage have smelled when the choicest spices were added in the hot pan.

                As I took the first spoonful of the divinity, I sighed a pleased moan. This was perfection. I have never tasted a biryani so delicious in my whole life. As I was about to eat another spoonful, I heard the jolly voice of my dinner host Kavi, “When did you come? Of course I invited you for dinner but at least you could have waited to say ‘Hello’ to me..” And she laughed. I grinned sheepishly and before I replied, I ate another bite and with immense gratitude of a beggar who have ate his full,  I  could fumble only two words “Thank You.” Thank you for accepting this glutton of a friend for this dinner. Thank you for cooking this amazing legen-wait for it-dary Veg biryani that changed my whole world. Thank you for making me believe in “Love at First Sight”. Thank you for introducing me to the world of Borosil.

       This post is written for the Indiblogger Contest "My Beautiful Food".