Showing posts with label Phuchka. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Phuchka. Show all posts

Monday, January 19, 2009

Reminiscence of the Past




Traveling down the memory lane is one of my favorite pastimes, dwelt into in far intervals though. Looking back into my childhood (as far as my memory goes) helps me relive some of the most precious moments that I hold close to my heart. I have tried to assimilate some of the striking ones into this blog. Incidentally many of them might coincide with the past experiences of other people my age or round about.


First day In school: This is an experience probably no memory can miss. Getting into the gates of Carmel Convent High School, M.A.M.C, Durgapur, walking past the beautiful rows of eucalyptuses and a huge rotary opposite each other and most shockingly being led into the kindergarten room behind locked doors is still alive in my mind. Amidst a crowd of blue skirt-white shirt-red sweater dressed kids, a bunch of teachers, a huge blackboard and lots of wailing sounds, I too cried to my heart's content but then managed to make a few friends and was in splits by the end of the day.


Making way through adolescent reads: Having enjoyed my share of reading stuff with fairy tales Cinderellas and Snow Whites, I slipped into the dream world of Noddy and soon after took to the adolescent adventures of Famous Five, Secret Seven and Hardy Boys. Side by side I do not regret having fed with loads of Archie editions and the occasional intrusions by Tinkle, (mostly supplied by my bro). Later on books by Agatha Christie, Maugham, H.G Wells, Dickens, O'Henry took over...the list grew.


'I'm loving it' kinds: Some of the tasty tidbits that once invoked my senses, continue to be my favorites. Starting with hojmi guli (a digestive globule), GEMS, Peppermint, Pepsi Cola pipes, it covered the platter of luchi, begun bhaja, fulkopir chorchori, sujir payesh and gota on Saraswati Puja, korai er dal and posto the occasional phuchka sessions, daal kochuri, aamsotto...the list is endless. However, today there can be further additions made, like rolls, bhel puris, momos, etc.

Ramayan and Mahabharat: While in mid school these two epics aired on Doordarshan were a must see for us. Come every Sunday and all and sundry got glued to the television to read our epic sagas on T.V. I still remember people who did not have a T.V set hopped into our place to have a glimpse of the serials. But they couldn't be missed at any cost.


Other television serials: Agatha Christie and Sherlock Holmes episodes, Street Hawk, Danger Bay, Jungle Book animated series, Buniyaad, Hum Log, Karamchand, Khandaan, Quiz Time were some of my favorite T.V shows in my teens. A little later Fauji and Circus became the greatest rage of the time. Some of us even had the hero's name (Lt. Abhimanyu Roy, played by Shahrukh Khan) written on our palms. I still pull my little brother's leg by teasing him that I am a greater fan of SRK and for a longer span of time much before he got to know of him.


Poster collection: collecting posters of sports stars, singers, filmstars was a craze back then. We even exchanged our valuable possessions of the likes of Viv Richards or Imran Khan post cards with George Michael or Michael Jackson posters.


There are a whole lot of other associations that arouse nostalgia in me. But my blog is already a tad too long and you see what it takes to get into a reverie.


You can chip in with your memory slots here as you wish. You are most welcome!

Friday, December 5, 2008

Phuchka - the Ball of Fire



Guys, you have got to believe this. I made Sara have her first run of phuchkas in one of the by-lanes of Kolkata, India. Hang on, this is something I will gradually unfurl and you will suck in bit by bit to have a hell of a time laughing for the next twenty five minutes.


Sara, my American friend through a chatting site, happened to visit India a few days ago and for obvious reasons, dropped in at my place to have a good round of this communist kingdom.


So much for the phuchka episode...A good six feet tall, Sara looked awful beside my diminutive magnitude of a bare five feet in front of the hugely built mustachioed potbellied phuchka vendor along Vivekananda Park. The scene in itself was hilarious as ever, but more was to follow.


The boss of the situation as I was, I ordered some five of those roly-poly crispy covered spicy stuffed balls of semolina for each of us. As the first ball of fire dipped in tamarind water crawled into Sara's mouth, to our amazement and her woe, briny waters began rolling down her cheeks – Sara was crying. Guess what! Touched by her comic gloom, the phuchka vendor offered her some sugared phuchka balls, sans the filling of spicy mashed potato and she loved it. Or should I say she was relieved! But something in those little little globules of fire must have allured her so that she proposed another round of phuchka gobbling session before leaving for the US.