The Rebelle blog

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 ...

आज अप्पांचा वाढदिवस! ब्यांशी वर्षांचे झाले असते अप्पा, आज ह्यात असते तर.  तीन- चार दिवसांपासून मी अप्पांचा विचार करतेय. या वर्षी, २०२० मध्ये अप्पांना जाऊन १५ वर्षं होतील! सरलीत वर्ष... हळूहळू, कधी फार भरभर. इतके मोठे आम्ही कधी झालो गेल्या दशकात हे उमगलंच नाही. माणसं स्मृतीच्या कुपीत बंद होऊन जातात. कधी आपल्या समोर असतात तरीही विस्मृतीत दाखल होतात. हा स्मृतीचा खेळ फार जीवघेणा आहे. आपल्या नकळत लोकं आपल्या स्मृती पटलावर येऊन ठिय्या मांडतात आणि काही कधीच धूसर होत नाही. जे आता आपल्या सोबत नाहीत, मनाला त्यांची आठवण किती व्याकुळ आणि बेचैन करते. सतत वाटत राहतं- आज अप्पा असते तर गोष्टी किती वेगळया घडल्या असत्या. शेवटी, मन ते! असंख्य गुंतण्याची सवय त्याला. येनकेन प्रकारे स्वतःला रमवण्यात धन्यता मानतं. कुणी असो-नसो, मनाला साथ मिळते ती फक्त आठवणींची.   काही वर्षांनी, कदाचित या आठवणींची धार पुसट होईल. तेव्हा देखील मी अशीच भावनावश होऊन लहानपण आणि त्यातलं रम्यपण कुरवाळीन. अप्पांची प्रेमळ हाक, आम्हाला बघताच पेपर दूर सारून गेट जवळ येऊन आम्हाला घट्ट कवेत घेणं; संध्याबाई, अलकाताई अश...

1998- what an amazing year! That was the year we moved to Mumbai. Everything was new for me. I remember my very first visit to Dr. Bhau Daji Lad Museum and meeting a painter there. She signed a photo of one of her paintings displayed in the gallery there. I was a wide-eyed 10- year old girl in awe of all the new sights in front of me. We also visited the Nehru Planetarium and Chowpatty on my first Mumbai visit. But, most of all, what I remember from that year is the introduction to some amazing kid movies I had the opportunity to see on TV. Earlier, before moving to Mumbai, I wasn't much interested in movies or TV and also, there was a limited access to DD programs.  Star Movies, I believe, broadcasted kid movies on Sundays. I watched The Parent Trap, Father of the Bride, Honey I shrunk the kids, Richie Rich on a Sunday movie marathon that spanned weeks. I vividly remember being glued to the TV set and still recall visuals of the light and colors from these movies. The s...

पुस्तकांच्या आणि निसर्गाच्या साथीत जेवढा वेळ छान जातो आणि सार्थकी लागल्यासारखा वाटतो तितका खचितच कुठेतरी अन्यत्र वाटतो. नवीन वर्षात केलेल्या संकल्पांपैकी एक म्हणजे वाचलेल्या प्रत्येक पुस्तकावर स्वतःचं विवेचन लिहिणं. सुरुवात तर झाली आहे. साहित्य संमेलनाच्या निमित्ताने आणि वर्ष अखेरीच्या पार्श्वभूमीवर मुंबईतल्या बऱ्याच बुक स्टोर्सनी भर भक्कम डिसकाउंट जाहीर केला होता. मी देखील नाही नाही म्हणता लोभाला भुलून पार ATM मध्ये जाऊन पैसे काढून पुस्तकं खरेदी केलीत वर्षाच्या शेवटच्या दिवशी. टिव्ही वरच्या असंख्य कार्यक्रमांवर नजर फिरवल्यास असं चित्र दिसतं कि समाजाच्या नैतिक मूल्यांशी कार्यक्रम बनवणाऱ्यांच काहीच घेणं-देणं दिसत नाही. माणसांची पतच एवढी रसातळाला गेली आहे कि कपोलकल्पित आणि वास्तव जग यांची चांगलीच सरमिसळ आपण करून ठेवली आहे आणि त्यातून बाहेर पडण्याचे आपले काहीच मनसुबे वाटत नाही. आज सकाळी विचार करता करता माझ्या असं लक्षात आलं कि आपण किती उगाच खलबतं करतो, आपला दुरान्वये संबंध नसलेल्या गोष्टींबद्दल. काल रात्री जेवताना मी कुमार केतकरांचं "बदलते विश्व" हे साधारण दहा वर्षांपूर्व...

A cancelled lunch date led my feet astray to the book treasures on Flora Fountain. This happened on a busy Monday afternoon. I promised myself I wouldn't engage my eyes on books anymore after I ended up spending a whole lot more than I usually do. It feels like an addiction, something I can't let go off. While I am sure books will and should not be recognised as harmful addiction, I am painfully aware of the fact that splurging money on anything every time we see it is unhealthy. Of course, I know the psychology and the hard facts too, but buying books feels like conquering the access way to treasures of an inexpressible happy state of mind. When I was young, losing myself in the book world was not just for the introduction into the big wide unseen world but also for the love of imagination. I was fascinated with colours and story telling, had a thirst for adventure that seemed strangely missing in my childhood as it was so pronounced in Enid Blyton's books. I could n...

I have over a 1000 unread emails lying still since many months. Most of them are from various groups I've subscribed to on Design, World Affairs, Architecture and such. I don't feel like reading through all that information at all. I can't recollect when that started happening. Today, I miss doing the one thing I loved so ardently as a kid. I loved swimming. I would be stretched for hours in swimming pools. I don't remember when that passion dissolved too. Maybe it was after I left school. One of the fondest memories of my school picnics used to be swimming for hours when we visited Water Resorts. I clearly remember carrying two sets of spare clothes because I knew I could never get enough of water. I enjoyed the ache swimming caused in my arms and the sting on my skin post swim. It never deterred me from exploring speed and that cold rush I felt whenever I was in a pool.  I am reliving my swimming memories because suddenly I realised the unnatural fears I've ...

काही व्यक्तिरेखा चिरतरुण असतात आणि त्या सदैव जिवंत राहतात. माझ्या मनात चिरंतर घर करून राहिलेल्या काहींविषयी मी आज इथे लिहिणार आहे. साधारण अकरा वर्षांची असताना मी पहिल्यांदा चार्ल्स डिकन्स लिखित 'ऑलिव्हर ट्विस्ट' हि कादंबरी वाचली. माझ्याच वयाच्या असणाऱ्या एका अनाथ मुलाची ती कथा वाचताना नुसतेच माझे डोळे भरून आले नव्हते तर मी ढसाढसा रडले होते. त्याचे करुण डोळे मला सारखे माझ्या नजरेसमोर दिसायचे. जगात आपल्यासोबत आपली काळजी घेणारं कुणी नसलं कि किती हाल होतात आणि त्यातल्यात्यात एका धोकादायक वास्तविक जगात आपण एकटे असतो हि नुसती कल्पनाच किती भीतीदायक आहे. त्यामुळे ऑलिव्हर बद्दल वाचताना मी खूप संवेदनशील आणि हळवी झाले होते. मी किती सुखासीन आणि सुरक्षित आयुष्य जगत होते याचं मला भान आलं. माझ्या कोवळ्या मनाला अतिशय छेदून काढणारा तो क्षण होता. त्याच दरम्यान व्हिक्टर ह्युगो लिखित आणि साने गुरुजी अनुवादित 'ल मिझराब' हि कादंबरी 'दुःखी' ह्या नावाने मराठीत मी वाचली. लहान असताना आपले भावविश्व किती स्तिमित असते. हि कादंबरी १८६२ मध्ये प्रकाशित झाली होती. साने गुरुजी यांनी लहान म...

1996- This is the year I most vividly remember from my childhood. I was eight years old and had started acquiring a new taste for literature and visual mediums then. This was the year I remember having seen Thoda sa Aasmaan that starred Deepti Naval. She was a big name then. My parents were huge fans of her cinematic work and TV was generously allowed to be explored by kids like me by parents back then. The end credit shot of a wooden door with a white lattice was permanently etched in my eyes. Years later whenever I saw latticed windows and doors I always thought of Deepti Naval standing in solitude and frozen in time. I also clearly recall watching Swabhimaan and loved Svetlana. Don't know if it was the unusual sound of the name or I was just smitten by Kittu Gidwani! I did not read Russian Literature until I was ten, so, Svetlana charmed me for a long while. I remember watching YUG based on India's Freedom Struggle and its catchy title track ringed in my ears for a long...

My Dad is on a cleaning spree today. So, I joined him too. We started from cleaning the Air Conditioning unit. Much to my Dad's chagrin, a pair of pigeons had set up their luxurious abode behind the unit. I pulled a face at the items we found in the nest; long thin knitting needles, chocolate wrappers, cotton, pigeon poop, yarn threads and pen refills. My Dad meticulously cleaned the area, sprayed a disinfectant over it and dusted the cobwebs off the external walls. It was a lot of work. Dad is like a superman with a vacuum cleaner and I was his glad assistant. It's fun to work with my father. He cracks jokes and tells me his school memories, we often end up laughing for long hours. Tomorrow we are cleaning the old trunks and the books inside them. Since we are running out of space now in our house for stocking newer books, Dad and me have decided to have a look inside the trunks and chuck unnecessary material. Both of us have an undying love for the old. We store magazin...

Everything that announces the onset of summer is here. There are watermelon mounds arranged everywhere in the market, the Gulmohar has started blooming its red blossoms prominently, the plants on my mother's garden sill have started flowering with a rage of colours and birds are making their nests on our Air conditioning unit. The hot, sticky summer nights are here and I have been gorging on ice creams almost daily. My mother has stacked our refrigerator with different flavours of home-made cold syrups. Hot nights are making people go for long walks post dinner in my town which is nice since this way everyone gets to meet each other. The mornings are still a bit cooler than the daytime but the poor ducklings in the lake prefer to stay in water and have stopped moving around the jogging track around the lake. I miss their familiar greetings on my morning jogs by the lakeside. Summer brings nostalgia too, esp, visiting my grandparents home during school holidays. Now that I hav...

“What is family? They were the people who claimed you. In good, in bad, in parts or in whole, they were the ones who showed up, who stayed in there, regardless. It wasn't just about blood relations or shared chromosomes, but something wider, bigger. We had many families over time. Our family of origin, the family we created, and the groups you moved through while all of this was happening: friends, lovers, sometimes even strangers. None of them perfect, and we couldn't expect them to be. You can't make any one person your world. The trick was to take what each could give you and build your world from it.”  This quote is from Sarah Dessen's YA novel, Lock and Key . I have often looked into this quote and her words to understand the concept of family. One of my very first and also favourite childhood movies is The Parent Trap . I was 13 when I first watched it. And till- date it remains one of the few movies I can re-watch and go back to. At that impressionable age ...

Although I have exams next week, yesterday I watched two movies. One directed by Aparna Sen and the other by Shonali Bose- Mr & Mrs Iyer and Amu. Both have accounts pertaining to riots. After news came about the Paris Attacks yesterday, it dawned upon me that my life has been so sheltered, away from the grimness the previous decades had. Maybe because I am not directly affected or involved in any of these gruesome events. But that also made me question if my generation or me, are we rebels without a cause? Then today, I was fiddling with my new phone, trying to understand its workings when I accidentally set up some theme which has a serene scenic background as my wallpaper and a bright blue cup with a rusty silver spoon laid on a dark blue table cloth on a mahogany table as my screensaver. Because I love intricate and antique things I like having them on my phone or computer as wallpapers. And I have taken quite a fancy to this bright blue cup. Somehow it makes me feel that ...

As I have written here in so many posts, all my childhood memories with Daddy are beyond precious. Him and me shared very little time when I was young because he was posted in another city and me & my mother lived in another small town. He came home on weekends and those two days, Saturday & Sunday, were my days with him. I would accompany him everywhere, wherever he went. To the market, the artillery canteen, to the town on long scooter rides. We would deliberately go around faraway places and then he would stop the scooter by the road where hundreds of Gulmohar trees stood tall, way back in 1995-96, almost twenty years ago. Dad would make me sit on the scooter and pluck Gulmohar flowers or sometimes he allowed me to stand on the scooter seat and reach for a bent Gulmohar branch. We would then sit for a while watching the vehicles drive past on the road. Back then, vehicles were a few and the roads were often empty. I remember those breezy encounters on Hamara Bajaj towa...

एक सपने सा लगता है वो दिन। पहाड़ों में घूमने का मेरा हमेशा से ही अरमान रहा था। वो ऊँचे देवदार के वृक्ष, पाईन के कोनो को ज़मींन पर पाना और सफ़ेद रंग का हर तरफ दिखना। ऐसे दृश्य देखकर मुझे अक्सर हिंदी फिल्मों के गाने याद आते है। इतना फिल्मों से लगाव नहीं है जितना गानों से है, खासकर वो गानें जो मूलतः कविता के रूप में लिखी गई थी और उसे संगीत का साज चढ़ाकर फिल्मों में पेश किया गया। मेरे पिताजी ने उनके शिमला के वास्तव दौरान की कई सारी Black & White तस्वीरें  आज तक सहेज कर रखी है। जब कभी मेरा मन होता है, मैं उन्हें देख लेती हूँ। रंगीन तस्वीरों की भी अलग ही बात होती है। रंग जैसे आज का दौर दिखलाती है, वहीं B&W रंगीन शीशों को पार कर गुजरे जमाने में ले जाती है। मानो हम इतिहास में यात्रा कर रहे हों। मसुरी, देहरादून, अल्मोड़ा - ये सारी जगहें बचपन में किसी जादुई नगरी सी लगती थी। आज भी लगती है, किंतु बचपन में हमारी कल्पनाशक्ति जैसे होती है, जिस निरागस भाव से बच्चें दुनिया निहारते है, वो नज़रिया बड़े होकर लुप्त हो जाता हैं। अपनी मासूमियत को जीवित रखने का हम सब प्रयास तो कर ही सकते है।  ...

I have been reading a lot of Hindi Poetry lately. My interest sparked after reading a few poems in a book diary. Thereafter, I got hold of hindi magazines like Hans, Dnyanodaya, Pakshadhar, Bahuvachan, Vagarth, Pahal, Udbhawana, Kathadesh, Aahwaan and poetry books on Agyey, Raghuvir Sahay, Chandrakant Devtale. The other day, I was reading an article by Gulzar in a sunday supplement. Therein, he mentioned of what drives him to write poetry. I got influenced by his words and promptly took to penning down mine, Since, I've been reading a lot of poetry these days, my first two poems took shape quite easily. I'm posting a poem here that's essentially memories of my father and me from my childhood. This is my first attempt at hindi poetry. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- बचपन की यादें किताबों में खो जाना पाया विरासत में उनसे मैंने। खो कर ...

UNCOMMON MAN Interview with cartoonist R.K. Laxman, from Reader's Digest, December 2004. By Ashok Mahadevan and Mohan Sivanand He’s been one of India’s most popular cartoonists for more than five decades, but Rasipuram Krishnaswamy Laxman is not the merry, benign funnyman many of his fans fondly imagine him to be. He has a mordant view of the world, especially of politicians, and he doesn’t suffer fools of any stripe gladly. Woe betide you if you say something silly in his presence. Work has been the passion of his life, and even the stroke he suffered last year has not slowed him down much. He has to be helped to get up and to move around, but while drawing he remains as fiercely alone as ever. We met the octogenarian Magsaysay-award winner at his Mumbai home on a recent Saturday evening, but only after he’d finished his cartoons for the next day’s paper. After we’d been served fine South-Indian coffee, his testy look made it clear that there was to be no fooling around. ...