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Showing posts from May, 2016

Paean to Food...and Lost Loves

Writer Anita Nair’s newest offering, Alphabet Soup for Lovers, is a paean to food, love, loss and longing, and the intimate connections between them. The narrator of this novella is the family cook, Komathi. And by using the language of touch and taste, Komathi introduces us to Lena Abraham, and the man Lena is so instantly attracted to, Shoola Pani Dev--a superstar, plagued by superstardom and a loveless marriage. Komathi, is trying to learn the alphabet. For her, love of food is as intrinsic and intimate as love or life itself. So, A, for Komathi is “Arisi” (rice in tamizh , as she puts it). Every alphabet thereafter, and the food, dish or vegetable she associates it with, is thus an aphorism--an acute observation of men and women and what they do for love. Komathi knows Lena, or Leema as she calls her, did not marry her husband KK for love; they are “like two strangers in a doctor’s waiting room.” And Komathi also knows Leema needs some arisi appalam (rice pappads) in h

Those early mornings

I love waking up early, but not too early. The world is still silent and dark, with that opalescent light falling through the curtains. Our little fellow is completely, heart-crushingly asleep, his face burrowed into some happy dream. Though, sometimes, the moment I leave his side, he stirs and mutters. And then I stand as still as stone, hoping that he won't wake or call out. I love him, you see, but being alone at this time is something I need more.  Our upstairs neighbour's dog is blessedly quiet. If she is left alone, she barks non-stop (the dog, not the neighbour). Hopefully, her mistress won't decide to go for an early-morning walk. I've always admired people who start their day with lime-and-honey or hot-water, or green tea. Or white tea which I read somewhere is even healthier than the green version. But me, I need coffee.  I love that ritual of pouring the decoction, adding milk, jaggery (yep, much better than sugar, trust me), and watching it all swir