Locomotoring

This is a photo collage inspired by JunoCam’s photos of Jupiter.

The tamarisk grove campground is at the intersection of two roads, S3 and Hwy 78, and shaded by large tamarisk trees, an invasive species. There are some nice short hikes in the vicinity including the Yaqui Wells trail. From the Bill Kenyon overlook, you can see the broad San Felipe wash by 78. The famous slot canyons are only 10 miles away.

…bleed? That is the question. This moment is dedicated to my sister-in-law who posits that Haldiram’s bhujia flows through our veins.

This was the year of attending a panjabi wedding, our cousin’s, the youngest in the cohort. Monsoon rain was falling outside and inside the home, we were being rained on by boxes of high quality sweets and namkeens. It would have been rude not to eat even if one could self control. There is no self control so we arrived at a compromise. First, I convinced myself that ethical and environmental impact of wasting all the good stuff far outweighed health hazards. Second, some good people on the internet suggested that sweets can be frozen and revived. So, we ate the namkeens and froze the sweets. If you have never tried a mathri chaat and egg for breakfast, I highly recommend that you do. We are now on a monthly ration of sweets. Typically on the first of the month, a rationally rationed vaccum sealed bag is being opened.

… that money can’t buy. I have a deep fondness for jamun (Syzygium cumini), also known as black plum, java plum, or Malabar plum. There is nothing plum like about it unless one is referring to the deep purple color. Last time I ate fresh jamun was during the monsoon of 2009 (link). I now believe that stars have to align to find fresh jamun.

The scales in the chatGPT image might be a bit awkward, but the rendering above is awfully close to what I see out the high rise balcony this morning. I was delighted to see the parrot colony that my mom-in-law has been painting.

Shukto is a non-alcoholic aperitif made with a medley of seasonal vegetables that is eaten as the first course. The list of ingredients would do Tim Spector proud. Traditional meal starters in Bengali households in a bitter but fortunately, not a shot of campari! The bitter ingredient in shukto might have been bitter leaves such as neem or bitter gourd leaves in the past, but modern cuisine uses the bitter gourd. The complexity of cooking a mixed vegetable dish comes from the different cooking times of the individual vegetable. In a prior version of the dish that I had learned to cook from mom, I didn’t parboil the vegetables. But this time, I chose to do so. It takes the worry out of cooking them to perfection and Bengalis are a bit pernickety when it comes to cooking the ingredients perfectly.

For 2-3 servings, you are looking at approximately 4-6 cups of vegetables in appropriate balance, 2-3 Tbs mustard oil, 1-2 bay leaf, 2-3 red chilis, 1/2 tsp of mustard seeds, 1/2 tsp of radhuni (wild celery), 1/4-1/3 cup milk. Sometimes, turmeric is not used in order to preserve the milky white color. But turmeric is good for you and the color of gold is equally appealing.

The place is Ushuaia, the locals like to claim it is fin del mundo (end of the world). It is a little town in southernmost tip of Argentina where we stayed a night at Arakur resort before embarking on the epic journey to the real end of the world, the Antarctica. It is wondrous how Negrito, the stubborn horse. fits into my tale.

In a nutshell, it was the year of saying yes. And having never ridden a horse before, we said yes. I said yes to Negrito and the better half said yes to Cerrito (darkness). In hind sight, we should have said no. But when you are staring at the end of the world – the placard as well as the prospect – it is easy to feel reckless. So what if helmets were nowhere to be found at Arakur’s horse riding ranch. And so what if I didn’t understand the tour guide’s instructions and they didn’t understand me.

It turned out that Negrito was a stubborn one. Frankly, I wouldn’t have known a stubborn horse from an agreeable one if it weren’t for Cerrito. Cerrito appeared happy-go-lucky following tour guide’s instructions. Negrito on the other hand, was singularly focused on finding grass to munch on. Perhaps it was the difference in their ages. Negrito was a much younger stallion and as far as I could gather, it hadn’t been fed or it had a healthier appetite. It kept going off course in search of greener pastures. And it didn’t pay much heed to the tour guide’s tsk-tsks. I could barely rein him in. And every time I did, he let me know he wasn’t happy one bit. It would neigh or huff with displeasure. When the tour ended, he decided to drive me through a thorn bush just to let me know that while I was temporarily riding him, he was the boss at all times. Thankfully, it was cold and I was bundled up, and the thorn bush didn’t leave a permanent damage, just a temporary dent our new found enthusiasm for saying yes.

Here are some of the beautiful views of the area surrounding Arakur.

This is the last chapter of a story, a duet, that started more than half a century ago. The first chapter started with introduction of a healer into a young woman’s life. In the intervening chapters, the woman becomes his wife, and subsequently, the mother of their children. I, the observer, often see Goddess Durga in women like her. There is but one difference, Durga was born a warrior, her singular purpose was to slay evils with her many hands. During the last fifty years, this woman has been using her hands to multi-task – an educator, a planner, a book keeper, a cleaner, a fixer, a gardener, a cook, a caregiver, a poetess, a singer, a playwright.

In the final chapter, she has devoted all her hands to one singular purpose, keeping the healer nourished while he undertakes his sannyasam. The healer has fallen in a deep slumber while he undertakes this sannyasam. This story will end when he completes his sannyasam. What follows is a glimpse into the everyday, the Goddess creating nourishing elixir so the healer can successfully conclude this duet.

The other day, I noticed what to me seemed like an odd behavior – a snail had climbed up on a blade of grass. This was Bair Island and an unusually warm May evening here in SF Bay. Then I noticed more of them. The likeliest scenario is the liver fluke or as an eye catchy headline says “Brain-altering parasite turns ants into zombies at dawn and dusk (link)”. I am choosing to think that they are the teenage snails who are out for a thrill, swaying crazily as the grass blades sway hither and thither with the Bay breeze. We know that the Orcas ramming boats are bored teenagers too!