Book Review - Here, There and Everywhere - Best Loved Stories of Sudha Murthy

Author - Sudha Murthy

Publisher - Penguin Books

Genre - Non-Fiction

Pages - 243

Price - Rs. 250

First Impressions

This is the first book authored by Sudha Murthy M'am that I have read. I usually address authors in their name, but after watching her interviews, reading about the work she does and reading about her experiences in this book, it would have been very rude of me not to give her the respect we all give to school teachers. Hence, I address her as M'am. 

I am sure if you are a book lover in India, you must have definitely watched or read at least one interview of Sudha M'am. While her simple living high thinking nature impresses us all, one can't help but be charmed by her smile...the kind of friendly smile your mom or teachers would give you when they would give you important lessons in life in a very friendly manner. Hence, the simple and smiling face of Sudha M'am greets you on the cover, as if asking you to join her over a cup of coffee and a warm conversation about life. 

My View

When this book was released more than a year ago, I casually picked it up influenced by the hype. However, life got busy and the book was lying unread and forgotten in my carton of books. Fortunately, few days ago, as I was browsing through videos on youtube, I came across an interview of Sudha M'am with Mr. Shashi Tharoor. While I was obviously impressed by her simplicity and out of the league thoughts, her smile reminded me that I had seen this face somewhere before. It didn't take me long to remember that I had seen this smiling face on the cover of a book lying with me. 

So the next day itself I pampered myself to this book. Before I had finished the 100th page, I couldn't resist ordering few more books of hers, as I had already fallen in love with her writing!

Here, There and Everywhere, as the title suggests, is a compilation of stories and incidents from Sudha M'am's life. These may not be stories that have been garnished with flowery language, illustrations or elaborate description of the subjects to hold readers' interest, but these are stories of the common people we come across in our daily life. Yet, these are stories that will leave the readers hooked on till the last page. 

We all have had conversations with our mothers/teachers/aunts/grannies where they shared incidents from their life inspiring us to become a better version of ourselves. While reading the book, that is the same feeling one gets. 

The stories are basically snippets from Sudha M'am's life. The subjects are diverse, ranging from a beggar in the train to a multibillionaire in the US, to a devdasi in a temple. But the common thread that binds all stories is the fact that the situations and the subjects seem very relatable. These may be the people we may have come across and ignored in our busy lives. But the author, in her subtle and simple fashion reminds us of what we could have done with a little more compassion and empathy in that interaction. 

One may say that it is easy to have such incidents to quote, for Sudha M'am has been a globe trotting philanthropist. However, as you read the book, you come across several inspiring people who, without any money or resources have been able to contribute to the betterment of their fellow human beings. Be it the amma from the remote village who treats every child delivered by her in the village as her own, or Sudha M'am's own grandfather who taught her the value of giving the best while donatng, or Kashibai, who raised the orphaned son of her Muslim neighbour as her own. There are however, some stories which are eye openers about the reality of relationships that we so heavily count upon. 

Many stories are just lessons from the life of a young woman growing up, stories of her struggles, triumphs and failures. But the common message one gets is that one shouldn't give up on efforts when the intent is right.  

Hits

The best part about the book is that Sudha M'am pours her heart out in each story, which makes the narration so powerful that by the time one flips the last page, the heart is already introspecting upon our understanding of compassion and empathy. 

The language is very simple and crisp so anybody can read this. The writing is so powerful that one literally enters the world of the protagonist. Ultimately, it is the message that matters, not the packaging. 

I remember while in school, our curriculum had Hindi and English books which had inspirational stories which taught us to be better human beings. In today's times, when children automatically gravitate towards immense materialism in their formative years, making them read such books in their academic life will not only make them value the quality of life they have, but also understand the aspects of life which really matter. 

My Rating

4.5/5

True friendship and humble beginnings

The humble besan cheela is as dear to me as the first best friend in childhood. When I didn't even know how to prepare a chapati properly, I knew how to get my cheela right.

It gave me the confidence to try and perfect my art.

Whenever I prepare the cheela, I reflect at the culinary journey so far. Those days I couldn't even in my wildest dreams think of preparing the stuff that I prepare in a breeze today.

No matter how great we become, never forget the first friend who appreciated u for your humble beginnings.

This is the way I like my cheela....enjoying the bear hug to brown bread slices.

To true friendship and humble beginnings.

Mumbai ki wo pehli baarish

शायद बचपन में ही बारिश पसंद थी मुझे. बस. स्कूल से लौटकर अगर बारिश आ रही हो, तो खाना खाने से पहले बारिश में भीगना तो बनता ही था. अपने घर की हरी भरी बालकनी में मैं जमकर बारिश का मज़ा उठाती. क्यूंकि घर पहली मंज़िल पे था और मालती और चमेली की बेल काफी हद तक प्राइवेसी दिला देती थीं, मैं बारिश में ऐसे नाचती और नहाती की जैसे कोई देख न रहा हो! अंग्रेजी में कहते हैं न "dance like nobody is watching you" बस वैसे ही.

फिर पता नहीं कब बड़े हो गए.

जीवन में कितने सारे नियम बन गए. बालकनी से ज़्यादा देर तक नहीं झांकना. अच्छी लड़कियां ऐसे नहीं करती. सरे आम बारिश में नहीं नहा सकते. अच्छा नहीं लगता. और न जाने क्या क्या.

जैसे जैसे जीवन की व्यस्तता बढ़ती गयी, बारिश महज़ चाय पकोड़े लेकर बालकनी या खिड़की से बूंदों को देखने तक ही सीमित रह गयी. कभी कभी मैं और पतिदेव बारिश में लोधी गार्डन जाते सैर करने, और बेहद खुबसुरत अनुभव होता वह.

मुंबई ने इस सुखद अनुभव में भी ज़्यादा नमक डाल दिया.

मुंबई की वो पहली बारिश आज भी मुझे याद है...

मैं मुंबई कभी आना नहीं चाहती थी. दिल्ली ही मेरी सब कुछ थी. लेकिन जीवन इतना परिवर्तनशील और ज़िद्दी है की अक्सर जिस चीज़ से हम दूर भागते हैं, वही हमारे जीवन का एक अभिन्न अंग बन जाती है.

खैर....मैं मुंबई आ ही गयी.

संयोग तो देखिये, हम मुंबई में जिस दिन आये उसके अगले दिन ही बारिश ने दस्तक दे दी. मानो हमारा स्वागत कर रही हो.

मुंबई की बारिश दिल्ली की बारिश से काफी अलग है. न बादल, न आंधी, न गर्जन. बस ये तो कहीं भी, कभी भी, कैसे भी शुरू हो जाती है. दिल्ली की बारिश कुछ मिनटों में शांत हो जाती है. लेकिन मुंबई तो ऐसे बरसता है, मानो किसी ने पानी का नल ही खोल दिया हो. आप रुकें भी तो कितना. इसलिए यहां के लोग बारिश में भी चलते रहते हैं. रेनकोट, छाता और जूतों के सहारे. मुंबई नहीं रूकती।

कुछ दिन तो सब ठीक चला. सामान दिल्ली से नहीं आया था तो पतिदेव रोज़ दफ्तर छोड़ देते और शाम को लेने भी आ जाते. पर एक सप्ताह बाद मेरी गाड़ी घर के सामान के साथ आ गईं. फिर तो मुझे एकेले ही दफ्तर जाना था.  सोचा, जब ओखली में सर दे दिया है दो मूसल से क्या डरना!

वो सुबह मैं भूल ही नहीं सकती.

अपनी गाड़ी से मैं दफ्तर के सामने वाली पार्किंग में उतरी. हाथ में फोल्ड हो जाने वाली एक प्यारी सी छतरी, दिल्ली से लिया हुआ मेरा अच्छा सा महंगा बैग, सुंदर सैंडल्स पहने जैसे ही मैं गाड़ी से उतरी और पार्किंग के निकास की तरफ बढ़ी की एकाएक झमाझम बारिश शुरू हो गयी. बचने का तो सवाल ही नहीं उठता था. खुली पार्किंग में ऐसी कोई जगह नहीं थी जहाँ मैं पांच मिनट सर छुपा सकती।  लेकिन रुकने का फायदा भी कहाँ था. बारिश कौनसी रुकने वाली थी और दफ्तर के लिए वैसे ही देर हो रही थी.

अब सोचती हूँ, शायद रुक ही जाती तो यह कड़वी याद न बनती.

मैंने छतरी खोली और चलना शुरू कर दिया. चार कदम भी नहीं चली थी की बारिश से मेरी छतरी पलट गयी (बाद में समझ आया की मुंबई वाले इतने बड़े बड़े छाते लेकर क्यों चलते हैं). हवा इतनी तेज़ थी की लाख कोशिश के बावजूद वो छतरी ठीक नहीं हुई. जब तक मैं कुछ सम्भलती, मैं बुरी तरह भीग चुकी थी. बारिश के पानी से बैग और जूतों को दूर रखना चाहिए. यहां तो मेरा बैग और सैंडल्स बारिश के पानी में डूब चुके थे. चश्मे से कुछ नहीं दिख रहा था क्यूंकि बारिश ने उसे भी नहीं छोड़ा.

उस दिन हिंदी  फिल्मों की हेरोइन की तरह मैं भी बारिश में खूब रोइ. बारिश की बूंदो में मेरे आंसू भी घुल गए. मुंबई आने के निर्णय के लिए कभी ईश्वर को कोसा,  कभी अपने पति को, और सबसे ज़्यादा स्वयं को. पर अब पछताय होत क्या जब चिड़िया चुग गयी खेत!

आज मुंबई में रहते हुए ये मेरी छठी बारिश है. बारिश से मेरा नाता आज भी वैसा ही है. बस अब उतना रोना नहीं आता. बारिश के लिए बैग, जूते, कपड़े सब अलग होते हैं. बड़े बड़े छाते होते हैं.

बारिश से दोस्ती तो नहीं हुई, लेकिन इस दुश्मन से झूझना अब सीख लिया है. क्यूंकि मुंबई में रहना है तो बारिश का डटके सामना तो करना ही पड़ेगा.

पर मुंबई की वो सुबह, वो बारिश और वो आंसू मैं कभी नहीं भूल सकती.

It is so good to be BACK

Like a typical script writer looking for perfection, I type, delete, retype and delete again! 

That's what happens when you are writing after ages. By writing, I mean the traditional long form writing, not Facebook posts ( I actually met someone at an event once who said he too is a blogger. When I asked for his blog address, he said "Oh I blog on Facebook!!! Lol!)

There is so much to write and I don't know where to begin. 

Thanks to the lockdown, my mind which had been tuned to work like a pendulum, yearned for some solace from the soul. The good old friend blogging was terribly missed.

I began blogging with so much zing sometime in 2012 while pursuing MBA. Not a day went by when I didn't check my blog multiple times a day and posted almost daily. 

I can relate this to the relationship between two lovers. They meet, they click. Then passion takes over in such a big way that they are inseparable. As time passes, the passionate flames do get subsided to some extent. But not love. Whether times are good or bad, it is each other the lovers look forward to for sharing their feelings. And time spent becomes an irrelevant factor. 

Such is relationship between me and my blog. 

I had never ever imagined a day would come when my posting frequency would drop down to 2 posts a year (2019). 

But, being a working mom changes everything beyond one's imagination. 

However, I am glad I returned before an year. As they say "subah ka bhoola shaam ko waapis aa gaya!)

I remember when my blogging frequency dropped due to motherhood, I would often complain to Mr. Hubby that all these blogging ideas accumulating in my mind are choking me and I need time to vent it out on my blog. He would smile and say "it is better to have ideas even if you cant blog than having no ideas at all!"

Then one day, the ideas too died. 

I forgot that I was once a blogger. When people asked me about my blog, I would give a shy smile and make excuses or in better words, try to justify my absence. People understood and slowly they too stopped asking.

Then few days ago, my niece messaged me that she is starting a blog and wanted me to review and give my feedback. The fact that she had been in so much awe of my blogging and considered me her inspiration jolted the blogger inside me and I decided to blog again.

It wasn't easy due to a plethora of things in my to do list everyday. 

But the sheer thought of blogging again did something great to me. 

The ideas came back to my mind. I would be feeding the kids and my mind would say "yay we can blog about this and that and yap yap yap!"

Finally when the bucket began to overflow I decided to open my Macbook which had not seen light of the day since 7-8 months. 

And it is so good to be back. Like hugging my bestie after ages. 

Hope to be regular with blogging now on...for nothing should come between us and our me time!a

Easy Eggless Ragi Biscuits

Getting Ragi in my daily routine had been on my wish list for quite sometime, especially after moving to Maharashtra and getting to know about the benefits of this superfood. 

My chai is incomplete without biscuits, be it any time of the day. In my quest to adopt healthy lifestyle, I recently realised that I was eating about 5-6 Marie biscuits per cup of tea! 

Even though packaged Marie biscuits look innocent and the labels try to further convince you they are healthy, the fact is that they are loaded with hidden calories. I realised it more when I began my attempts to bake my own biscuits. I could never get the perfect texture or finish and I would wonder how the packaged biscuits get it right in every single piece! Well, the secret lies in the various chemicals masked under the head raising agents mentioned in the ingredients. Don't believe me, read one yourself! Except for Amul biscuits, I have hardly seen biscuits that use even pure good butter. Mr. Hubby once ordered online some nice homemade biscuits made with wholewheat flour, jaggery and ghee. However, after reading the price label, I couldn't even eat one!

Necessity is the mother of invention. So, after various failed attempts and learning from my mistakes, I finally got them right. 

Here's the recipe

Ingredients

Ragi/Finger Millet Flour - 1/2 Cup

Wholewheat Flour - 1/2 Cup

Butter (Cold solid) - 1/3 Cup, cut into cubes

Powdered Sugar - 1/2 Cup (U may even use powdered brown sugar/jaggery powder)

Baking Powder - 3/4 tsp

Vanilla Essence - 1 tsp

Cold Milk - 1-2 tbsp

Oil - for greasing the baking tray

Method

1. Roast the Ragi flour on low-medium flame till you can notice the aroma. We do not need to roast till the colour change. Just enough to let go of the rawness. Once done, remove and set aside to cool.

2. Sift together the Ragi Flour, Wholewheat Flour and baking powder and mix well.

3. Sift in the powdered sugar into the flour mixture and mix well.

4. Add the cold butter cubes and rub with the flour using fingers until the mixture gets a crumble like texture.

5.  Make a bay in the centre and add the vanilla essence.

6. Slowly, add little by little milk and bind the mixture. Do not knead. Just enough milk to bind the mixture will do.

7. Refrigerate the mixture for 20-30 minutes or till it gets firm.

8. Dust a working table. I have used my granite Chakla on which we prepare Chapatis. Gently roll the dough into a 1" thick sheet. Honestly, I used my hands to do most of the flattening. However, it depends on one's comfort.

9. Using a cookie cutter, cut the biscuits in desired shapes. I used the lid of the baking powder bottle.

10. Arrange the biscuits on a greased baking dish and bake in a preheated oven at 180 degrees for about 15-20 minutes.

11. Remove and keep on a wire rack for cooling. The biscuits will appear soft when hot however, please dont be tempted to overbake or you will end up with jaw breaking biscuits (been there, done that!). They will automatically get firm once they cool.

12. One cool, store in an airtight container and enjoy guilt free!

Easy Eggless Mawa Suji Cake

I discovered Mawa Cake after moving to Mumbai. Once you eat Mawa Cake, you will realize you never had anything like this before. Soft, crumbly and aromatic, a Mawa cake is the perfect accompaniment for teatime. While initially I pampered myself to the Mawa Cake from the local Bangalore Iyenger Bakery nearby, once I discovered this recipe on Gayathri's blog, I decided to give it a try albeit tweaking the measurements a bit. The cake came out great and was happily finished the same day by my family.

This is how I made Eggless Mawa Suji Cake

Ingredients

Fine Rawa - 2 Cups

Mawa - 3/4 Cup

Curd - 1/4 Cup

Milk - 1/3 Cup or to taste

Baking Powder - 1 tsp

Cardamom Powder - 1.5 tsp

Butter - 1/2 Cup

Powdered Sugar - 1 Cup, or to taste

Chopped Nuts - 1/3 Cup

Method 

1. Cream melted butter and sugar until light and frothy.

2. Add the mawa and mix well. 

3. Add curd and cardamom powder and mix well.

3. Add the Rawa and baking powder and mix well. The mixture should neither be too tight nor runny. Slightly dense is how I would describe it.

5. Transfer to a baked cake tin and bake in a preheated oven at 160 degrees for about 45-50 minutes.

I cannot describe the heavenly aroma in my kitchen when the Cake came out of the oven. The cake was yummy and soft.

60 seconds of sisterhood

At the busy BKC-CST Road signal, when I was sulking over how each day traffic multiplies
I caught gazing at me from the adjacent Auto, a pair of eyes.

This was no eveteaser, the gaze didn't have an uncomfortable feel,
This was a pair of beautiful Kohled eyes, gazing at me from behind a veil.

Perhaps my blue sleeveless blouse and green saree caught her attention,
The narrowing corners of her eyes hinted at a complimenting smile and I smiled in reciprocation.

A mixed bag of emotions behind those eyes could be seen.
Sadly, the sisterhood lasted 60 seconds and the signal went green.

Just then, her gaze signalled me to look down,
The sight would have surely made her mother frown!

She pulled up her Burqa for a moment & I spotted chic red pencil heels,
But the trendy pair of jeans covering her calfs was the real fashion steal!

My curious look turned into a look of awe at once.
I smiled at her, signalling "Ja Simran, Jee le Apni Zindagi" coz you only live once!

(Inspired by a true incident)