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Monday 26 September 2016

Mamma, Will I Be Treated Like You When I Grow Up?

Shruti was an independent woman, or so she thought. Aayan was her colleague at work. That is how they met. Their relationship soon metamorphosed to different levels. Friend, boy-friend, fiancée and then Husband. Shruti experienced that, this was much akin to the four stages of a butterfly's life cycle. It brought out a totally different person in him. Should we say much similar to moth than butterfly? As the metamorphosis yielded something not really as beautiful as a butterfly. Some-thing subtle, a bit less likable yet functionally the same. I am not sure if someone will take my bias against moths otherwise. I do not really detest Moths, but they are often colourless and forlorn. Aayan was suddenly the dominating alpha male in the house.

The lover boy, the patient suitor had all disappeared. Aayan was now in-charge of the home and all decisions had to be taken only with his permission. What to cook, what to wear, who to meet, who not to meet, what movies to watch, what places to visit, how long to work - usually this last one was a point of tri-party tussle between her boss, Aayan and herself. All three saw this subject from a different angle. That was too much for Shruti. So when she had her little girl Anaya, she called it quits. Sent all three devils at work to rest and became a full time mom and a part time wife for a short while. 

Things were now completely in Aayan's hands. He was happy with the change of events. He started getting more merciless towards Shruti in their arguments. He would treat her worse and worse. He did not care to consult Shruti at all, now that she had no need to apply for leave at work. Decisions were just taken, Shruti was expected to comply. 

Little Anaya was watching all this as she was learning to burp, to walk, to eat, to talk, to tie shoe laces, to read, to form opinions. And at eight Anaya, in many ways a remix of her dad than just the name, realised she was destined to be more like her mother than her dad, when she grew up. She was startled at the discovery. She knew Mom to be the docile victim, with no opinion of her own. But dad, he was so smart, and that is how she'd rather be. But it was not going to be, in natural progression, she was condemned to become a woman, a wife and a mother. She would have to learn to be like Mom, more than like dad. 

Anaya for the first time in her life discovered depression. She felt listless and unhappy. Soon, there was a marked change in her. She would begin to cry, almost howl, whenever her parents were having one of their arguments. This would confuse both Aayan and Shruti. 

Finally one day Anaya asked Shruti, "Mom, when I grow up, will my husband also treat me like papa treat's you?"

Shruti was speechless, tears streaming down her eyes. She felt helpless, caged and defeated at that question. And now she was wondering why did she not stand up for herself anymore? Why was she allowing her bitter relationship to take over her life, even though she was a strong independent woman? She thought she was doing it for Anaya, she needs the love of both parents. But at what cost? At the cost of stifling her daughter? Making her to believe that this is just the lot of all women? It was not making sense to her. She had it all wrong then. She promised herself to be assertive from that moment. If Anaya had to learn about woman's real character, she had to learn it first from her mother!

She had an idea at that instant! She asked Anaya, "Do you think all women are treated like I am?" Anaya looked thoughtful. Not making it very tough for her, Shruti offered, "Anaya, I will answer all your questions, but will you ask the same question that you asked me, from your dad?"

Anaya questioned, "Can I Mamma?"

"Anaya, he is your dad, and he loves you, I don't think you are afraid of him either. He cares for you. And if he does, he will have an answer to your question"

And sure, Anaya asked Aayan the same question that was brewing in her heart. For the first time Aayan, the alpha male of the house, was speechless. Yes, he realised, he was setting an example for his daughter. He was unknowingly chopping off her little wings, even before they were ready to take flight.

And so he promised, just like Shruti had done earlier, that he will give an answer to all her questions, but he needed some time. Anaya looked only a little upset, but it was her playtime. "I will give you the answer after you come back from your play."

When Anaya left, Aayan and Shruti spoke. Both of them equally wanted their kid to grow up a strong independent woman. So then the house rules had to change and the Alpha male had to make way for equity in the house. Shruti needed to be more assertive. And he needed to be more sensitive.

It all shaped up very well in this household. But there are many Anayas and also Aayans, who grow-up seeing inequity between man and woman in their homes. They do the same when they grow up. Someone needs to put an end to this vicious cycle. 

Thursday 8 September 2016

Bake a Wholesome Whole Wheat Cake!

Maida (Refined wheat) the white devil of today, is lately under significant jibe from the nutrition experts. Once the affluent cousin of Aata (whole wheat flour) is today under constant rebuke from media (some say media is not maida, who knows!) and gentry, fallen from the zenith to the nadir of its existence. The brown flour is the choice of the nation today, rich and poor alike. Racial though it may sound, we are completely biased in this matter. Whole wheat bread, chapatti, puri, momos (for God's sake!) Naans? Kulchas? No way! Our health conscious populace will gulp anything to lose another inch around the waist. But Whole wheat is startlingly not a bad choice!

Oh don't jump to any conclusions as yet. Whole Wheat cake is healthier than maida cake only if, one does not have Gluten intolerance. Those with gluten intolerance can say bye bye to Wheat as well. Say hello to Corn (Maize), Ragi, Jowar, Rice Flour etc. I personally make corn cakes too!

Ingredients:

Take any cup, size does not matter, it should measure something that fits in your baking tray though. A good idea would be to take the rice measuring cup, the 150 ml cup that is.

1. 1-1/2 cup Aata
2. 1 tea spoon Baking soda
3. 1/2 Cup of Cocoa Powder
4. 3 eggs
5. 200 gram butter
6. 1 cup Brown Sugar, powdered (This brown sugar is no cocaine okay!)
7. 1 Tea spoon Vanilla Essence

Take a large bowl and beat the three eggs till they really wish they were not eggs, fluff them up. Don't worry they will relent later, you see! Add the powdered sugar to it, hot and sweet (Hot from grinding, you are familiar with that right?). Now the egg knows what a sweet deal it was after. If the butter is not melted, put it in a bowl and let it float on hot water, kept in a larger bowl. Once the butter melts, add it into the egg and sugar mixture. Now all buttered up, egg is beginning to forget all the beating and battering... oh wait a minute, did I say batter? That is what we are making, aren't we? Can you see the simile with the wrestlers? They apply a kilo of oil to their body, before they get beaten, here we added butter after the egg was beaten, close isn't it? That is the subtle difference that the egg may mull over while being stirred, taking cues from the movie Sultan. Set it aside for now.

Take a sieve, the one you use in Karwa chauth will do. Make sure it has fine mesh. Pick it up and wink at it just as a reminder of the romantic Moon and Man viewing you did on Karwa chauth. Now put the atta over it along with the baking soda and the cocoa powder. Pass it through the sieve three times. You may want to wink at it more, but that is your personal choice - It will not do any good to the cake. It will also not do anything to the previously sulking and now over-sweetened and buttered egg.

Take this flour mix and start spooning it into that resting egg, butter and sugar mix. Keep stirring in the flour with a table spoon. Whisk only in one direction. I prefer clockwise, it is just personal choice. You may call me a stickler or follower or whatever. You can choose to go against the clock. Just keep it steady and in the same direction. Once you have spooned in all of your flour mix into the egg mix, add in the vanilla essence. You can actually lick some of the batter now. It tastes awesome. Once you have licked and appreciated your batter, whisk it with the electric hand blender for about five minutes. In case you do not have electric blender, you can use the spoon to frantically mix the batter for about 20 minutes. Your hands may ache, but it is the cake you are concerned about at this point, I believe. Look for the Tiger Balm later on.

Now take a baking tray and butter it too, just a tablespoon will do. Spray some flour over the buttered tray. Pour in the cake batter. Battered up but fluffy, it is a perfect example of our own personal predicament in life. Battered up by responsibilities and fluffed up by family and friends, ever ready to be blended and battered, ever more! Leave the philosophy aside, it is not even good for icing. Just leave it.

Preheat the oven at 150 degree Fahrenheit for 15 minutes, while the cake batter also stands for 15 minutes. Push in the cake mix into the oven, turn up the heat to 180 degrees. Let the mix face some heat! In about 20 minutes push a knife through the cake to check if it is ready. Now this knife may easily invoke another analogy, but refrain from it, the cake has nothing to gain from life's analogies. And your mouth is already watering, why waste your energy! If the knife comes out wet with batter, it is the surest sign that the cake needs some more baking (No analogies again please!). In another 10 minutes check again. You should be done in probably 35 to 40 minutes at the most.

Bring out the cake and cut a large slice and pop it in, there is nothing like a hot cake!

Statutory warning: Leave some for others. They will make you go through it all over again if you did not.