Patchwork Friday

a withering stalk of gladiolus. a cherished gesture from a long lost classmate. a blue dreamcatcher hung whimsically on a potted palm. flashbacks of a Utah getaway, an orangish September. gaping silver pomfret at the local fish market, one makes its way into our home. Saturday smells great already. steaming chicken momos. a trusted cure for overcast, moody days. a neglected pair of silver earrings. the turquoise winks at me from the rusty corners of a forgotten trinket box.

Invoking memory and inviting the present, I gather these small joys or the more poetic - little somethings. Patch by patch, frame upon frame, I weave my Friday for that much awaited weekend, that just comes and goes in a wild flicker. 

Happy Weekend, you all!

PS: Instagram has soon become my photographic mainstay, and as you can see from the above pictures, it tells the tales well. For more such tales you can visit here.

Weekend

A good cappuccino to beat the monotony of grocery shopping, creamy pistachio kulfi with friends well past midnight, a hearty Sunday read from Gulzar's "Neglected Poems".

Quiet times, content times. The time to just be, when everything else around recedes into a blurry, oblivious distance. Another new week waits at the door impatiently, to give way to yet another whirlwind of routines and rules. But not today. Let the day be. Just be.

A few favourite lines from one of the "neglected" poems:

'You gave me the earth
On which I could build
A home good enough
for you to live in;
Come, when you find
time from all your
other chores
Maybe on some
"weekend", come!'

~ Gulzar (Translated by Pavan K. Verma)

Saturday biryani

The heavenly aroma of saffron and mint swirls around the apartment as I write this hurried post. Tender chunks of yogurt-herb marinated chicken tucked inside layers of fragrant basmati. The sweet crunch of caramelized red onions. The juicy tang of tomatoes. All cooked, layered and baked to perfection. And of course garnished with love. Chicken biryani. True, it's a lot of work for just one dish, but it's totally worth it. More so when teamed with cool cucumber raita.
That's our grand plan for a dark, gloomy Saturday. That and Netflix!

Happy weekend.

Carrot cake and Mr. Darcy

Carrot cake, yet again. Pecans and spice, and all things nice.
The bewitching Colin Firth in Pride and Prejudice, yet again.
The perfect union for long winter nights.

Curl up then! Happy weekend.

Furry Friday

The robins have a competitor now and a very industrious one too. This furry little guy scampers up and down the autumnberry tree as if there's no tomorrow. He dances on the berry laden boughs, holding onto the flimsy twigs precariously and reaches out to the seducing dots of red. Plucking and relishing the berries, he curls his woolly tail in contentment for a flicker of a second. I bat my eyelids and there he is, scurrying down elsewhere for some more of the juicy manna.
How I envy his zeal and voracity. And his unwavering steadfastness.

Have a great weekend.

Of birds and berries

As I try to compose a post, something lighthearted and weekend-y, it snows in little white drops. Like a bunch of mint candies hurled from a confused, careworn sky. Out of habit I gaze dreamily outside my favourite space - a glowing canvas of tall evergreens, ruddy autumnberries and golden big leaf maples framed by the window. I wonder how empty and forlorn a look the place has suddenly worn. One that was bursting with the cackle of thrilled, berry-struck robins just an hour ago. How madly elated they looked, equally rampant and restless in their perch and take off as well. Sitting, picking, nibbling, fluttering, all at the same time. 

I could not understand what was their hurry though. For, if I were one of the fortunate them with a pair of wings and a whole tree laden with the juiciest of treasures, I would have lazed there for days. Drawing manna sip by sip from the plump berries, dancing in between shades of the leaves and boughs, what a life it would be. 

But the mere mortal that I am, I had to resolve to the next and the only best thing - run for the camera. I could only catch hold of these two saintly souls, one contemplating and the other with a clear look of disapproval of the peeking patio-paparazzi. 

Happy weekend, y'all! 

"What is this life, if full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare."

~ William Henry Davies, Leisure

Yeats and weekend

"I have spread my dreams under your feet
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

~ W.B. Yeats, He Wishes for Cloths of Heaven

This is the result of an ongoing Yeats overdose in the Modern Irish Literature course I am currently into, knee-deep and sleep-deprived. So it's Sleepless in Seattle literally! Although not my most favourite of poets, some of his poetry, especially the early period with the vanishing fairies and the intriguing Celtic folklore is quite seductive. They almost take you on a day trip to Neverland.
The later phase is where I get disenchanted. The political, propagandist Yeats is not my cup of tea. Try as I might, I could never get my head around it.
You see, the mumbo-jumbo is where I feel at home.

That said and nudging Yeats aside, I am two happy feet today. It's almost weekend (I am on PST and hence the more than half a day's tiring wait), which means a promised shopping excursion and all I have been dreaming of lately are scarves. Also there's a potluck dinner tomorrow and I am making methi chicken, which is chicken cooked with aromatic fenugreek leaves. So scarves and chicken - could I be more happy?!

Have a lovely weekend, dear friends.