The Rebelle blog

Sure sounds like a horrid and terrible title. It's a hot afternoon, not too late, 25 minutes after 12. My belly is full, my mind is abuzz with the thousand things I have to finish today and yet, here I am.  It's difficult to keep everything bottled up within the confinements of my heart. There are memories that I don't wish to forget...yet as days and months pass and now a year too, I am only able to remember slivers of them. I feel like if I close my eyes I shall transport back to that moment and relive it again. Only, alas, this doesn't happen. My memory with closed eyes and open is still the same. I don't necessarily remember the minutest details that I thought I had buried deep down in the recesses of my mind and heart. The smiles are brilliant, the words quiver away in the light and the faces shine blurrily. If only we had the power to relive the good times again and again.  I can hear the sea waves gushing in my ears as I sleep remembering you all. Th...

It all began with a wedding. My friend was getting married in Kerala over a lavish 5-day ceremony last year in May. I had never been to Kerala and jumped the opportunity to attend the wedding. I bought a one-way ticket, to begin with. Little did I know that not only my stay at the wedding festivities make me fall in love with the places I was at but make me want to travel more. I met two friends of the groom who were from Poland and on their very first visit to Kerala. We decided to travel together on the train; I was going to Kochi, they were going to Allepey. We hit it off really well through the journey, talking about poetry and cities, movies, and music. Midway through the train travel when the Ticket Collector approached them, they decided to abandon their Allepey plan and join me in staying at Kochi and exploring the city. Thus, began the Kochi sojourn for three girls without a map, without an itinerary. We landed up at 3pm at Kochi and went for a stroll around 5. The evenin...

Here I am, a couple of weeks after my birthday. I decided to put all my love for baking into a blogpost.  I bake a lot. It all started in 2013 when my mother got home a microwave oven. Until that point, she would bake cakes and biscuits in a cooker. I recall the number of experimental desserts and baked goods we attempted. Every weekend, My mum and I would scoop through her older recipe journal and begin working in collaboration. Some days were good, some were feisty, there were days when we had arguments over tweaking the recipes for lack of ingredients. The coolest part was however when the kitchen would be filled with the baking aroma. It made all that bickering worth it. Immediately both of us would be discussing the brown crust and texture, the color, and the aroma. Mum would scarcely need to time the baking. I am not so fortunate. I go by the book, the measuring spoons, and cups, the fancy mixing apparatus, and utter concentration. In the earlier phase of my baking, I ...