Easy on the Spices

A pinch of salt and pepper is enough to enhance the flavors but we have to go one step further from being passionate to obsessive; enhancement to mutilation. Until and unless beads of sweat start tickling down and the tongue pops out, we don’t label it as food. Every eatable must be dipped in a range of spices and should be floating in a hot red murky shorba(broth) before it is served. There is no such thing as spicy food, it is only food. Adrak (Ginger), Anardana (Pomegranate seed), Darchini (cinnamon), Dhania (Coriander seed), Elaichi (Cardamom), Haldi(Turmeric), Hara dhaniya (Coriander), Zeera (Cumin) to name a very few. With all these things smeared on, how on earth am I supposed to taste that chicken within?

But it is extremely difficult to make a case against spices. They literally made an empire to take over another empire and then rule it for hundred odd years. Beat that!

I am accused of being disloyal to my roots and my mum says that BBC Food, now Lifestyle has corrupted my mind. Well she is not entirely incorrect :) . But who can blame me? Watching that channel is the best therapy for a troubled soul. You don’t need anything else. Turn it on, meditate and liberate yourself.

I think we should go easy on the spices. Pleasure should lead us towards peace not chaos and that thing which gurgles inside me after an extra spicy serving is certainly no peace. Every flavor should be given due chance to work its magic on the palate. A perfect balance is what does the trick and excess of an ingredient can ruin the whole canvas.

Misfortunes, mishaps, tragedies…When these befall, sense of right and wrong greatly falters.

New Found Respect

I used to be the most uncouth reader. If a book lover analyzed the book I had just got over with, he could surely sue me for sacrilege.

Cover page was mutilated owing to my mindless abstract artwork. Pages sodden as the book was left by the window in the rest room and were rudely underlined with multicolored ballpoints. Book-mark was considered an unnecessary luxury and the pen used for the same purpose left the book deformed forever. Edges were torn down and they became my modified tooth-picks (I know! I know! This was so below the belt!). No surprise that lending a book was a nightmare. Defilement needed to be put an end to.

Lately I have seen an improvement though. A dog-eared page makes me cringe. I have actually started to use a book-mark. Well it’s not exactly a book-mark; I just found another use for my Telenor prepaid cards. Instead of underlining the whole paragraph, a single dot on the margin does the trick and I have finally recovered from making to-do-lists at the end pages.

I don’t know whether there is anything to infer from this new found respect for books. I just know one thing for sure that they are going to be with me for quite some time and I can’t afford to offend them.

A Dream Shattered

Today is 9th November, birth anniversary of Dr. Muhammad Allama Iqbal. I took out the book comprising his complete works and opened it randomly. Like Shakespeare and Ghalib, I always find it too herculean a task to even dare to open a book like this. I know at the back of my mind that I'll end up lost in the tirade of words too big for me.

I came across these verses which are from his book bal-e-jibreel. I was pleasantly surprised how smoothly they ran through me without any hindrance up to the point where they touched the heart. Striking the right cords at the right time. A surge within as you read these lines.

نہ ہُوطغیانِ مُشتاقی تو میں رہتا نہیں باقی
!کہ میری زندگی کیا ہے؟ یہی طُغیانِ مُشتاقی
مجھے فطرت نوا پر پے بہ پے مجبور کرتی ہے
ابھی محفل میں ہے شاید کوئی درد آشنا باقی
وہ آتش آج بھی تیرا نشیمن پھونک سکتی ہے
!طلب صادق نہ ہو تیری تو پھر کیا شکوۂ ساقی
نہ کر افرنگ کا اندازہ اس کی تابناکی سے
کہ بجلی کے چراغوں سے ہے اس جوہر کی بَّراقی
دلوں میں ولولے آفاق گیری کے نہیں اُٹھتے
!نگاہوں میں اگر پیدا نہ ہو اندازِ آفاقی
خزاں میں بھی کب آسکتا تھا میں صیّاد کی زد میں
!مری غمّاز تھی شاخِ نشیمن کی کم اوراقی
الٹ جائیں گی تدبیریں، بدل جائیں گی تقدیریں
!حقیقت ہے، نہیں میرے تخیّل کی یہ خلّاقی

I see around today and I feel cheated. Was this 'the' nation? I wish we had not let his vision crumble and dream shatter.