Better Be Late, But Be Safe...

Today while driving back home, on the Western Express Highway, near Vile Parle, there was this Toyota Qualis ahead of me which had a message saying "It's better to lose some minutes in life, than lose a life in some minutes!"

This is so so true.

I immediately took a picture with my BlackBerry, but it came out too grainy.

In the anxiety to reach our destination we end up speeding and driving rashly. Sometimes, we end up using the mobile phone while driving.

Not only are these actions distracting, they can be hazardous too. And you never know what the outcome can be, which is better not thought about.

But always remember that perhaps there are people who love you, who are waiting waiting for you at home. Don't leave them behind with tears in their eyes for the rest of their lives....
This reminds me of a signboard, again on the Western Express Highway, between Milan Subway and the airport, which reminds us to drive safely.
Better be late, but be safe....

Life In The Slow Lane

Years ago, the city of Mumbai or Bombay conjured up magical images in my mind - of life in the fast lane, of unfettered opportunities, of glitz, of glamour, of money and wealth.

Then when I moved to this city, some people I knew were envious, some openly, some secretly. But surely I was happy.

Over the last 8 years, I have witnessed the city literally go down the drain. A road commute that used to take 30 minutes way back then now takes over 90 minutes. A single, moderately heavy shower is enough to cause the damage. The roads look as though they were carpet bombed. Perhaps roads in war-ridden Kabul are better than in India's richest city.

All this thanks to the very corrupt civic bodies where officials fill their pockets endlessly.

Imagine the amount of precious fuel that's wasted, when gears in cars just move between 1 and 2 though sometimes, you would be lucky to go up to 3. I wonder if anyone gave it a thought that fuel is simply burnt away, what a colossal and criminal waste of precious resource.

Trust me I am questioning the raison d'être of my being in this city, where everything - infrastructure, morals and civic sense is just crumbling away. But it seems that till I move out, I am condemned to life in the slow lane!

Delightful Sauteed Mushroom Starters

Today we chose to have an interesting starter with our otherwise ordinary meal.

So we retrieved a packet of fresh button mushrooms from the refrigerator and these were washed well. Into the pan went a teaspoon of olive oil, and then a generous helping of pepper and dried oregano.

When the aroma of oregano became all too noticeable, in went the mushrooms - whole - not sliced or diced. After nearly five minutes of vigorous tossing and turning the mushrooms to ensure that they get evenly cooked, the colour gently changed to a lightish hue of brown.

And when Neeti moved out of the kitchen to set the table, I did something naughty - I put in a tablespoon of Worchestershire sauce followed by a tablespoon of oyster sauce.

In the next two minutes, the sauces were absorbed by the mushrooms and they were absolutely lip-smacking delicious.

It is amazing how wonderfully you can work with mushrooms to create something yum - that too with absolutely minimal calories. The starters we concocted had the added advantage of having no added salt.

Today, when I disclosed the secret of the oyster sauce finding its way into the sauteed mushrooms, the look on her face was indescribably amazing.

But matters is we enjoyed the mushrooms!

The Best Time Of My Life

Today, on the way to office, Rainbow FM 107.1 was playing on my car stereo. RJ Keisha, who hapens to be my favourite was on air. She had this wonderful story on life to share. Here goes: 

It was June 15, and in two days I would be turning thirty. I was insecure about entering a new decade of my life and feared that my best years were now behind me.
My daily routine included going to the gym for a workout before going to work. Every morning I would see my friend Nicholas at the gym. He was seventy-nine years old and in terrific shape. As I greeted Nicholas on this particular day, he noticed I wasn't full of my usual vitality and asked if there was anything wrong. I told him I was feeling anxious about turning thirty. I wondered how I would look back on my life once I reached Nicholas's age, so I asked him, "What was the best time of your life?"
Without hesitation, Nicholas replied, "Well, Joe, this is my philosophical answer to your philosophical question:
"When I was a child in Austria and everything was taken care of for me and I was nurtured by my parents, that was the best time of my life.
"When I was going to school and learning the things I know today, that was the best time of my life.
"When I got my first job and had responsibilities and got paid for my efforts, that was the best time of my life.
"When I met my wife and fell in love, that was the best time of my life.
"The Second World War came, and my wife and I had to flee Austria to save our lives. When we were together and safe on a ship bound for North America, that was the best time of my life.
"When we came to Canada and started a family, that was the best time of my life.
"When I was a young father, watching my children grow up, that was the best time of my life.
"And now, Joe, I am seventy-nine years old. I have my health, I feel good and I am in love with my wife just as I was when we first met. This is the best time of my life." 

A Sunday Siesta

Sunday siestas, though a welcome break, bring back a lot of old memories.

Today after a rather heavy brunch and doing a quick read of the newspapers, I turned in, into the bed watching some stupid dance competition on television.

God knows when I fell asleep.

And I drifted into my childhood in my dreams. I was in bed at home, again a Sunday afternoon. The golden rays of the sun filtered in from the west. Papa was struggling to wake me up - telling me that Mom was almost done with Halwa and tea. The sweet fragrant smell of Halwa was wafting in the air.

Delighted at the thought of having Halwa, I was transported from my dreamland to here, Mumbai!

Sigh, it was just a dream - folks are a thousand kilometers away and there's no Halwa here!