"Ishq-e-Dilli"

Despite my many visits, writing a blog about my experiences in Delhi had somehow remained just a wish. This time however, I finally made up my mind to pen down my thoughts about my tryst with the undisputed empress of India's metropolitan cities!

At the first glimpse, the city does indeed seem not much unlike many others; vexed with the same old woes: pollution, ever -exausting rush hours and the never-ceasing rat race for mere existence! With a closer acquaintance however, Delhi begins to intrigue you like a painting splashed with myriad colours- each one vividly distinct; yet blending together perfectly to create that sublime work of art!

"Ishq-e -Dilli" (for the love of Delhi) is a beautifully put together light and sound show I had the fortune of watching; at  'Purana Quila'; one of the oldest forts in Delhi; during my past visit. The spectacular show provides a thoughtful insight into the rich history of the city of Delhi; telling the tale of romance of a 5000 years of historic legacy. The tale begins at "Indraprastha" : the fabled Pandava capital city located at this very place and unfolds through the Mughal era to modern Delhi; wherein generations of rulers cherished their bond with the city- some for the love of its people, some for the admiration of its culture and others for the lust of its power! Centuries have gone by, yet the love for the city has remained unchanged. Even at the present day, the city still holds the same undying charm and continues to entice youth and old; men and women; affluent and humble; and scholars and mediocre; alike.

As one takes a peek into the days of yore, several ancient monuments strewn across the city speak of the glorious yesteryears. Among many such celebrated landmarks is the 'Lal Quila' - an impressive fortress which was built during the reign of Mughal emperor Shah Jahan. The massive- walled citadel built with red sandstone once served as  emperor Shah Jahan's royal palace and headquarters. Some 200 years later, the ramparts of the fortress resonated with the historic nation wide address of the then Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru; thus marking India's Independence from British rule and making 'Lal Quila' a politically significant landmark as well.

India gate; a towering war memorial with the "Amar Jawan Jyoti" ( eternal flame in honour of the unsung warrior) commands a solemn bow.The captivating Humayun and Safdarjung tombs, Jama Masjid and finally the Magnum opus of 'Qutub Minar', the foundation of which was laid by Qutub-Uddin Aibak; mirror the quintessential, somewhat ostentatious Mughal architectural style.

Somewhat lesser known; nevertheless no less significant are the ' Purana Quila' (a fortress built by Sher Shah Suri); 'Agrasen ki Baoli' (an intricately designed stepwell built by the legendary king Maharaja Agrasen; comprising 108 steps engineered to perfection); and Gurudwara 'Sri Bangla Sahib' (the most prominent Sikh worship place associated with the eighth Sikh Guru, ' Guru Har Krishan' ). The list is an endless one!

While old Delhi is quite unplanned; with almost haphazard, overcrowded streets peppered with several of these heritage sites; modern Delhi on the other hand; has a regal air about it; with meticulously planned townships; spotlessly clean neighborhoods and hypnotizingly symmetrical six lane roads. Abutting the roads on either side are skyscraping residential complexes; expensive resorts; swanky movie arenas and shopping malls that bespeak sheer sophistication.

From elegance of 'Raj path' to flamboyance of 'chandni chowk' ; from exceptionally adorable miniatures at ' doll house' to impeccably decked up dainty damsels on Delhi streets; from extravagant malls in upmarket areas to affordable bargain-priced bazaars; and from majestic masterpieces that stand as a testimony to the grandeur of  bygone days to magnificent townships that epitomize the finesse of modern times; Delhi has it all! Indeed, the city is akin to an artful sorceress who has something in her bag to lure everyone!

What draws me time and again; to this unparalled megalopolis however; is the diverse; yet a distinctive culinary heritage it possesses. The city streets are replete with a mind-boggling array of cuisines; that reflect the essense of Delhi's cosmo culture. Be it the tongue-tickling tanginess of  Chaats; the audaciously spicy Indo- Chinese; the succulent meats or the decadent desserts- each of these culinary delights do not merely satiate your hunger; but promise to gratify every single of your five senses!

I was introduced to Delhi's food culture few years ago; during my first visit; when a happy accident brought me to "Bikaner sweets"- a rather unnoticeable little sweet shop at RK Ashram Marg. It was the irresistibly tempting sight of soft 'gulab jamuns' and crispy 'Jalebis' fresh out of the 'kadhai' and right onto your plate; that made it almost impossible for me to ignore the shop. Even today, the gifted hands that work their magic into making each of these treats make sure I visit the shop every single time I visit Delhi. The 40 year old shop sells more than a hundred different varieties of sweets; some traditional and some unheard of! Most people flock here for their special delicacy 'chhaina payasam' which is a perfect blend of two classic Indian desserts- 'rasmalai' and 'rabdi'. The dish which incorporates mushiest 'rasmalai'  balls dipped in sweetened condensed milk with an exotic flavour of saffron truly brings about the best of both worlds! Equally delectable is their version of the traditional Bengali sweet "raskadam"; with a twist of  a subtle, yet unorthodox dash of rose essence. The shop is a hit when it comes to favourite Indian snacks including several varieties of 'kulcha', 'samosa' and 'dhokla'.

When it comes to Indian snacks; also a must visit is the outlet of "Haldiram's" at Connaught Place which serves mouthwatering ' Chholey Bhature' , ' Raj kachori' in addition to several other snacks and a wide variety of lipsmacking desserts.

What I absolutely adore about Delhi however; is the fact that her flavours aren't confined to these branded outlets and posh food courts. You could walk into just any streetside 'dhaba' and relish a steaming bowl of flavorful 'dal makhni' and rice with spicy 'paneer tikka' by the side; and never end up being disappointed!  In fact, what I enjoy most; is a leisurely evening stroll along the streets adjoining the 'Jama Masjid'-  a paradise for food lovers; the Mecca of ' Mughlai' cuisine!

The place by itself; is no Eden; with perpetually congested, narrow streets swarming with two-wheelers, cycle rickshaws and pedestrians side by side. Vendors; with their voices booming above the general noise; sell cheap merchandise on bargain. You may  even buy a trinket or two for yourself feeling a surge of pride in your bargaining skills; and yet some Delhi based friend of yours may waste no time in pointing out that you've been thugged through and through!  If you're lucky enough; you may even witness a streetside quarrel! In short; those looking out for spacious eateries with a tasteful, candlelit ambience and sparkling cutlery may be in for a thorough disappointment. Indeed, the place doesn't boast those fancy restaurants where attractively garnished food is served with gloved hands; where presentation and hygiene are paramount; and taste is more often than not; neglected! By contrast; every eatout here; be it a restaurant or a solitary outlet serving street food; is perpetually overcrowded and full of commotion!

Well known as "city's most famous culinary destination"; is the ancient restaurant "Karim's" . Established in 1913; the restaurant is now almost synonymous with the place. The chefs here pride themselves as being born of ancestors who served in the kitchens of Badshah Bahadur Shah Jafar and never fail to bring that royal taste to the doorstep of common folk! Another famous eatery " Aslam's chicken" serves mouth watering 'tikkas' in a tangy yoghurt based gravy with 'naan' or ' roti' for main course. After a sumptious dinner a creamy treat of  'shahi tukda' (an exotic bread pudding layered with saffron) and 'phirni' (a rice pudding with a fine flavour of cardamom, traditionally served in earthen pots) for dessert is absolutely  delightful!

Of course; I know for certain that the place has a lot more to offer. The more I roam around this place; the more I realize; how much still remains to be explored! With a heavy heart I wind up this visit; as the sizzle of ' tadka' still reverberates in my ears. Blazing 'tandoors' warm up the streets; the rich aroma of freshly ground spices lingers in the air; and so does a silent promise to visit these alleys yet again- for the love of these 'gullies' and 'mohallas'; for the love of the food they serve; AND  for the love of Delhi!

The devil's mirror

The inspiration behind this blog is my nephew Aditya; the very same cool guy I had mentioned about, in one of my earlier blog posts- a teenage boy who resides in an altogether different, parallel universe that's far more fantastic than the absolutely humdrum monotonous world that we dwell in! In this imaginary realm of his, laboratories brew the most innovative magical potions; kitchens cook yummiest of the foods; superheroes battle and triumph over deadliest of villains using bizzare gadgets; laws of physics act as per their own convenience, travels lead you accross time to mysterious places and enigmatic people ; and stereotypically boring and mundane entities like mathematics are barred from entering!
Despite being nothing more than a mere figment of the talented boy's vivid imagination; the strange world is way more fascinating than the one that we are acquainted with!
"The devil's mirror" is an idea that popped out of the dreamer's mind  and hopped onto a shabby, insignificant; yet a curious looking piece of paper that I found lying around in some corner of the house. Despite the overall unattractive appearance of the paper, there was definitely something about it that cought my eye. The handwritten piece was titled "My favourite dream" and went on to describe one of the most extraordinary dreams I've ever heard of!
Apparently his dream carried him off to the hilly terrains of Sikkim; where he stumbled upon a singular mountain peak; a mysterious air about it. From afar, the peak had a distinct appearance- a one characterized by multicolored square shapes on one slope and what looked like multiple dents on the other.
As he approached closer to the hill; he was greeted by a queer looking stranger who introduced himself as his guide for the day!
The "guide" informed him that the 'dents' were in reality; a maze of deep caverns and that this part of the hill held deep secrets; the access to which was forbidden to everyone except the "Maharishis"( the ancient sages).
The other part with the colourful squares was actually a sophisticated resort which was carved out into the mountain; and had variously colour coded suites.
The most interesting part however; was the mountain peak; which carried a huge table-land over it; balanced to perfection. This part was the fabled 'lair of the devil'!
Ignoring several warnings from people discouraging him from wandering off near the devil's lair; he still decided to pay a visit to the hilltop. He reached the place; half anxious; half curious; anticipating the appearance of the 'devil' at any moment! However, all he found there was a mirror;  the devil was nowhere in sight.
Curiously, he peeped into the mirror, his heart pounding with anxiety; only to encounter a great fall; and find himself in bed; awake, flustered, but very much present in the boring real world!
"This may not be a very nice dream", he goes on to say, "but it has certainly given me some ideas to write a new fictional story".
Much as I envy the boy's colourful imagination; I certainly couldn't help but think about how much his idea holds true in real life too! 'The devil' truly resides within us; the only way to find and destroy him is to look into the mirror; introspect!
The boy's brain however; is not yet cluttered with such serious, cliched philosophical stuff. The spirited young mind is already busy weaving some magical story about decoding the secrets of the 'Maharishis' and destroying the devil.
That carefree attitude and youthfully fresh, innocent, unadulterated perspective is all I long for!

The proposal...

A fairytale has begun in the most perfect way
Down on one knee a ring was given, “yes” did the lady say!
But this is not a dream you’re in, this is the love that’s true
Now all await in eagerness, the day you say “I do”!

I smiled to myself, as I read this lovely verse our photographer had printed on his own accord, while I fondly flipped through the pages of our wedding album. Automatically, I drifted back to a time four years ago, while I was still studying to be a post-graduate. My parents, like any other, had already started worrying about my marriage and would keep bothering me with proposals from prospective marriage alliances. The typical headstrong, impulsive girl that I was, however, would end up feeling extremely annoyed at the abruptness of the whole procedure. The very idea of placing my trust in some random person I barely knew, did seem absurd, if not dangerous!
It was then, that I met him- a simple guy with a pleasing demeanour. Like me, he too was pursuing higher studies in medicine. The first time I met him, he did seem like a decent guy after all! I had always been an introvert and would often find it quite difficult to strike an effortless conversation with anyone I met! Quite astonishingly, I found I was able to talk to him quite easily, without much of inhibitions!
“I can’t cook”, I muttered, fidgeting nervously with a spoon, as we sat in the cafeteria, chatting over a mug of latte. “I can, though!” , he remarked reassuringly, as I stared at him in utter disbelief !
“Look, I really can’t! All I can make is 'maggi'” I tried to retort. He merely laughed aloud, looking thoroughly amused at my nervousness.
“It’s no laughing matter, mind you! Think about it- I’m absent minded, and dead clumsy too!”  I sighed desperately, as we walked out of the cafeteria while I finally opened up about the worst fears I had, about my home-making abilities!
“Sir, I think you’ve forgotten your bike keys in here!” called a distinct voice from the cafeteria. I chuckled, throwing a mischievous glance at him, as I finally realized that he was no better, quite confused whether I should be feeling relieved, or more apprehensive about the fact!
"Shall we meet again, then?" he asked expectedly. He beamed, as I replied, "I guess so!"
I saw him waiting for me the next day. His face lit up in a dazzling smile the moment he saw me!
"Hi!"
"Er... why don't we just take a walk?"
We walked along the alley to reach an assortment of ancient looking buildings. "Well, that's my school!" his eyes sparkled as he talked about those loving memories!
I'm not quite sure where that conversation drifted to.. I can merely recollect that hour and a half as a happy blur!
A couple of meetings were followed by several phone calls full of such interesting topics as movie reviews, novels, sports, work, studies and practically everything under the sun, and some mundane,  insignificant ones like our “future plans”. I’m quite surprised  that we even brought up the topic, considering neither of us had much idea of what we planned to do with our futures!
“Listen, I'm still struggling to make my career..I  don’t think I can give you the kind of well settled, lavish lifestyle that you’ve had at your place, at least not for now! But we could build that life together! I wanted to ask you something… I’m not very good with words… but…well…will you marry me?” he said one day, as he finally popped the question, rather unceremoniously! That was it! Here was a proposal, that was so overly simplistic that it could easily qualify as one of the most unromantic proposals in the history of humankind; one that neither had the intense chemistry nor a dreamy air about it, the way it is, in the typical candy-floss romances that we tend to idolize!
Indeed, here was a proposal, quite unlike a one that any girl would dream of! No ring, no wine, no candle-light, no flowers.. no one went down on a knee….just a straightforward question over a humble phone call, yet, a one that was beautifully simple, honest and straight from the heart!
Well, here was a guy, who wasn’t afraid of being himself.. here was a guy, who undoubtedly excelled at practically whatever he did, be it academics or sports, and yet, was down to earth. Here was a person, who had the strength of character to accept his limits, as well as the courage to try and defy them. Here was a man who didn’t cringe at the fact that making tasty meals and perfectly round ‘rotis’ wouldn’t exactly be my top priority, in fact was responsible enough to offer sharing the load!
Frankly, I had never believed in ‘happily ever after’s, I still do not! Well, people are not like those clowns in the circus with a façade of a permanent happy expression pasted to their faces, nor is life, a fairytale! I was quite sure, that our relationship, like any other, would have its share of easy streets and rough patches. But here was someone with whom I could survive whatever situation life threw at me, be it happiness, sorrow, anger, disappointment, frustration or utter confusion, without having to pretend otherwise.. someone I could disagree with, without being judged; someone I could be angry with, without being misunderstood AND someone I could be HAPPY with, without being taken for granted!
On that cold February night, over a distant phone conversation,  I was convinced, that I finally found the man I could have my “honestly ever after” with!

Flavour, failure and fortune...

As a part of tradition when I was married; I was gifted a beautiful idol of Goddess 'Annapoorna'- the Indian deity of nourishment and the giver of life-sustaining food. Ever since then; the idol has been a part of my daily pooja rituals. The Goddess however, has held quite a restrained hand while showering her blessings on me!
My culinary skills are limited to the very basic minimum that is required so as not to starve myself and the family. Well, let me put it this way- some people are natural at cooking; certain others are natural at eating. And then, there's this third catagory of profoundly unfortunate souls like me; who; despite their boundless love for food; are neither gifted with the talent of cooking savoury meals; nor blessed with an appetite any greater than that of a polar bear in hibernation!
There's nothing much to work on; as far as the appetite part is concerned. Wedding receptions and banquets with elaborate menus turn out to be major disappointments for me. By the time I've tasted each of the food items to decide what I like the best; my tummy decides to rebel and refuses to accept another morsel of food!
The cooking part however, is something I haven't still entirely given up on! The frequent video blogs that keep popping up on social media every now and then; make the whole process of cooking seem like a child's play and incite me to try my luck with rekindled hopes. The seasoned hands belonging to the chef in these videos however; are no less deceptive than those of a sorcerer! They work seamlessly, with apparent ease; and voila! Within no time; a delectable-appearing and tastefully garnished dish is ready at the table; waiting to be served!
In real life however; things are far too tricky. Now, it isn't that these attempts of mine are entirely disastrous! However, whether it's because of my weariness at meticulously following the set of instructions; or simply because I tend to have too much fun eating half the raw ingredients; the final product; though edible; is never quite as delicious as I expect it to be!
That day though; I decided to be extra careful about following each of the set of instructions mentioned in the recipe. I had found an obviously easy looking recipe for the all time favourite 'motichoor laddoo' on one of my favourite cooking video blogs- 'Hebbar's kitchen'. On that fateful evening however; I came to the conclusion that cooking is certainly something more than following a particular​ set of guidelines word to word. Perhaps it's a fine blend of intuition, imagination and innovation; which I ; most lamentably; tend to lack! After all, anybody could be taught to play musical notations; but only a maestro can wield his instrument in such a way; as to create a soulful harmony!
I successfully managed to make the tiny fried florets (boondi) out of gram flour (if we overlooked the fact that I did char a few of them in the attempt) and sugar syrup. But the final mixture of boondi and sugar syrup was so runny that it would well have qualified to be called "boondi ki kheer"!The final result could have been nothing short of a catastrophe; but for my excellent disaster management skills. I was eventually able to cook up a dish with a very close likeness to the original 'motichoor laddoo' (though having a consistency that was soft and mushy rather than the usual firm and round ones)!
It is usually the husband who is assigned the unfortunate duty of being the first one to taste most of these recipes of mine. That night when he returned from work; I presented the dish before him; quickly explaining what it was; as he tried to rearrange his facial expressions to hide an obviously puzzled look!
As he tasted the first bite however; his face lit up in a huge grin. "It's nice" he said; generously helping himself with another piece from the plate!
"Next time I'd have to do something about the consistency though!" I added impatiently. "You'll figure it out" he said bracingly!
I honestly doubt when this "next time" would come; even whether it really WOULD come at all!
So far as my occasional rendezvous with cooking are concerned; I guess they would still continue! Well, I may not be fortunate enough like a few others who are blessed with an undoubted expertise in culinary arts. But after all; only a few others are fortunate enough as me to have been blessed with such connoisseurs who happily appreciate the efforts behind each of these not so successful attempts! The food I prepare may not be as flavourful; my life certainly is!

Kingdom without a monarch

In the human world…

A usual start of the day in the city of Pune means, that I finish with a few household chores; exercise; get ready and leave for work on a two wheeler- the official ride of all Punekars. I have almost mastered the tricky art of steering my two wheeler across the bumpy road; staying clear off gaping potholes; skilfully manoeuvring the machine through a maze of seemingly myopic pedestrians and reckless riders who have no regard whatsoever for traffic signals or rules! The never-ending commotion and the constant mad rush that exists; makes Pune roads dangerously chaotic and unsafe.

A ride no less hair-raising than a roller-coaster takes me to my workplace; which is a dental clinic located about fifteen minutes away from my home; only to receive a cold greeting from my assistant. Her troubled face tells me something’s amiss. On enquiring, I am informed that the residents in the neighbouring houses have littered the empty space in front of the clinic; yet again. I have till now; made several failed attempts to counsel the residents in my neighbourhood and make them aware of public health and hygiene. Today is no different. Upon confronting them, they deny having thrown the garbage. Fuming, I come back to my clinic.

Meanwhile, a patient who has undergone a minor dental surgery on the previous day is impatiently waiting for me with a grumpy face. He complains that the surgery has worsened his pain instead of relieving it. I calmly explain to him; that having a post-operative pain is but natural; and it would definitely reduce within a day or two. Unconvinced and still grumbling, he leaves the clinic.

I finish with the day’s work; and exhausted, leave for home. On the way; I halt at a grocery store to buy milk. Outside the store, I notice a vendor selling balloons. I immediately recognize her as the same ailing vendor that I had found sleeping on the pavement a couple of days ago. I had felt sorry for her back then; and bought her some food. Today, I’m happy to see her in excellent health. Apparently, she hasn’t yet noticed me looking at her. I buy some groceries, come out of the store and head for my two- wheeler. It is now, that the vendor takes a notice of my presence; and begs for some food; pretending to be sick! I refuse politely; though feeling inwardly annoyed with her pretentious behaviour.

I get back on my two wheeler, reach home and finally sink into my bean bag. Listlessly, I pick up a newspaper lying on the couch. The very first page screams an unfortunate piece of news about a teenage boy having committed suicide after a minor row with parents over his exam performance. Wearily, I put the unpleasant piece of paper away; and drown into a deep slumber!

In a parallel world…

There are two places that usually help me gear up for a long, weary workday- one is a tiny garden in my balcony; the other is the sports complex building near my home that houses a magnificent swimming pool. While I’m in my garden getting rejuvenated and preparing myself for the battle ahead, I notice an army of ants marching up the walls of the balcony. Despite the fact that there is no dearth of space around; the ants crawl extremely systematically; one after the other; careful not to break the queue.

The master architect- a spider- is already at work, weaving an intricately beautiful web across the branches of a hibiscus plant.

Somewhere down in the lawn near the parking lot, a cat is busy answering nature’s call. After it has finished; it leaves; but not before it has wiped out all traces of the mess; meticulously covering it up with fresh soil until it is completely buried under the ground!

Meanwhile, my own cat who’s been injured; has to undergo a painful dressing change. Despite the agonizing procedure; it rubs its head against my palm in a friendly sort of a way; as though knowing that I only have its best interests in my heart.

After a while; I decide to go for a swim at the sports complex near my house. Here, I meet a large ginger tom cat whom I’d found to be in distress a few days ago. I remember having fed the cat with some milk and a few biscuits that I had bought from a nearby store. The cat immediately recognizes me; greets me with a friendly ‘meaow’ and a contented purr and silently walks away; asking for no more!

I return home to get ready for work. While I take another lazy stroll in my balcony garden sipping my coffee; I notice that the painstakingly woven web has been torn apart probably by a violent breeze. The master weaver however; has determinedly set to work yet again; without a slightest trace of dejection.

Somewhere amid the cruel, greedy, undisciplined human world with all its negativity; exists this parallel realm; that I come to relate to more and more; by each passing day…  A world where fiercest of predators have been seen to show tenderness and compassion that is beyond humane; a world where its inhabitants do not need to be taught the importance of protecting and preserving nature’s bounties... A kingdom with no monarch to impose a set of laws to be obeyed; but where its citizens do so dutifully, on their own accord! A world where genuine trust, unceasing belief and unconditional love still reign despite hostility!

As we humans continue to proudly acknowledge ourselves as a civilization, I smile at the irony!

The elixir

                                                                                                                                                

Far away in my haven amid the distant clouds

Hidden beyond the mountains' misty shrouds

Throughout raging summer, while every petal dries

And gloomy air echoes with a million tired sighs

I wait for the farmer's hopeful calls

and then; amid lightening and thunderous drum-rolls

I break into my heavenly, soulful song

as I'm yet again back, to where I belong

I strike with all my might and zeal

I quench, I cool, I calm, I heal

I'm clear as a crystal and purest of the pure

I'm the giver of life; I am THE ELIXER!

The storyteller



There are many things that I look forward to when I travel to Goa; one of them is meeting my family; my mom, dad, brothers, sisters in law and most importantly, my nephew and two adorable little nieces.Aditya or Addu, my nephew is the cool dude and the older one. The two nieces- Netra and Nidhi who are younger to him are almost the same age. While Addu is the quiet one, lost in his own fantasy world and almost always inconspicuously hidden behind a pile of books; the girls make an incredibly naughty and a supremely noisy pair; each one of them, infinitely energetic and perpetually brimming with life!

Their questions start badgering me several weeks before I plan to leave for Goa; “Attu, when are you coming home?” they ask me with an earnest eagerness that could only match a feeling one has before an upcoming Disney movie release. “I’ll come soon! Just three more weeks to go” I reply enthusiastically.This conversation is repeated almost every alternate day within those three weeks. Finally, when I actually reach home, I receive the warmest of welcome from these three musketeers.

“Attu, I want to show you a new game I’ve downloaded” says Addu while he describes one of the most complicated games I’ve ever heard of; featuring some high end gadgets that could easily put the makers of ‘transformer’ series to shame.“Attu, aj ratri goshta!” (you must tell us a story tonight) demand both the girls, dancing around me in excitement, while I still struggle to make my way into the house, trying not to trip over my own luggage.“Let her at least breathe! Out, you three! “ It’s only after my mother yells at them to leave me alone, do the three make an exit, but not before they have made me promise that I’d tell them a story at night!

The very first day back home is obviously a busy one; I soon preoccupy myself with the task of idling on the cozy couch, absent mindedly flipping through TV channels while simultaneously catching up with mom and dad. Within no time it’s evening; time for the kids to return from school. It’s only after someone mentions this, do I realize, that I’m doomed!‘What’s so difficult about telling a story?’ one would say. Well, the answer is- ‘nothing’! But when you have an audience that resembles this deadly trio, the trivial task becomes as challenging as answering a viva voce to grumpy examiners who seem to know everything!

It’s ‘perform or perish’ kind of a scenario. I frantically flip through the pages of one of Netra’s storybooks that lies on the very top of a carelessly heaped up pile, trying to search for some good story.“Not one of those Attu… we already know those” I hear someone protest. Netra it is!Now this girl is way smarter than one would think. A voracious reader with a photographic memory, a national level chess champ, cunning as a fox; needless to say, far too brilliant than any of us lesser mortals!Stories from ‘Hitopdesha’ and ‘Panchatantra’ , Fables of Eosap, Vikram- Vetal are too commonplace for her. Those of Tenali Raman, Ramayana and Mahabharata are just an old cliché. She knows them all, perhaps better than most of us! What intrigues her is folklore from exotic locations, weird characters with strange names, and loads of magic!

“What story do you want then?” I ask her cautiously.“Anything  new… something we haven’t heard of” she replies almost instantly. It dawns on me that I have landed myself in what I prefer to call a ‘dharmasankat’.

“Well, give me a day then; I’ll search for a new story. I don’t know any right now” I make a feeble attempt to escape.“But you promised! This is not fair” more protests from the trio.After fifteen minutes of negotiations, I have managed to convince them that I’m too tired; and that I’d definitely find a good story for the next day. Relieved for the time being, I sink into a nearby chair!

Next day, I carry out an extensive search through old books as well as the internet, in a hope to be better prepared with a good story. At night after dinner, the kids gather around me and listen in rapt attention, as I narrate a hilarious story of how two Japanese frogs- one from Osaka and the other from Tokyo make a fool out of themselves while they attempt to travel to a new city!“Great story!” Netra is the first one to exclaim, “now another one!”“Another one? I promised to tell you one story!” I’m aghast.“But you didn’t tell us any yesterday! This one makes up for it. What about today’s story? Besides, this was a very short one too” she remarks slyly.

Thankfully, I have a backup ready. This time it’s the story of a young artist who is blessed with a magic pencil that brings whatever is drawn, to life; and how with the help of this pencil, the artist is able to trap the cruel king beneath the pile of gold coins he orders to be painted!

“But attu, why does he have to give him the gold coins in the first place? Why can’t he simply draw a weapon and kill the king?” Netra has this annoying habit of being very very practical and asking questions which I haven’t got any answers to!I feel a sudden rush of fond gratitude toward Nidhi, the relatively shy, sensitive angel that she’s got for a sister while Netra practically butchers my story with her savage logic!Amidst gales of laughter, the girls depart. Addu is still right behind me. “Attu, the story of two frogs is from one of the books in the old cupboard right? I had already read it” he says with a rare mischievous twinkle in his eyes; “better luck next time!”I, for once am very very glad that the girls have left the room!

(Note to self: if you want to be successful, keep your sources secret.)

On the third and final day of my stay however, I am determined to make no mistakes. By this day, even the elders huddle around, curious to know what the new story would be about!The tale that unfolds is a folklore woven around the character of the legendary Indian poet Mahakavi Kalidasa; about how he, with his wit, gets rid of another poet who comes to challenge him in a debate.This story is soon followed by another one about how a Russian prince Czarevitch Ivan riding his golden flying horse battles a cruel witch ‘Baba Yaga’ who stays in a walking hut deep into the woods, to rescue the princess who is being held captive by the witch.

Amidst appreciative smiles from the elders and a thunderous applause from the kids; the tale finally winds up.However, with vivid pictures of magnificent royals from faraway lands, gargantuan giants and witches, majestic beasts and legendary poets; their stories unfolding through overly animated narratives and mock battles still occupying her mind; the ‘storyteller’ becomes a child, yet again!