Tuesday, November 28, 2017

"Survival " of whom ?


Just came across some information on how caviar is made.

As a pucca vegetarian , I had been aware of stuff like caviar being treated as some ultimate thing, but was disgusted to find out how it is made.

Caviar is nothing but the eggs of the Roe fish. It is not as if the Roe lays its eggs somewhere and someone goes for a search and harvests them.  They actually catch these fish, stun them, anesthesize them, do sonographies, and then make incisions in their bodies to extract the eggs.

These are then processed with the addition of salt et al, and packaged to folks who think nothing of paying through their nose to eat them.

This is Darwin's theory of survival of the fittest , in its worst manifestation.   On the other hand, as humans we are not otherwise blameless.  We perform the same on other female humans .

Shame. 


Darwinian excesses.

Kidnapping the Roe.

Stunning it , doing sonographies,
making incisions,
and removing the ovaries,
to process them with salt et al,
so carnivores may flaunt their
exclusive food habits.

Why blame humans.

They not only do this,
making incisions, songraphies,
but kill fertilised eggs
when they are declared female.

Again and again.

That is not Darwinian ,
but grossly patriarchal.

Somewhere , sometimes,
the feeling remains,
that
survival of the fittest
will not hold true for the future.

Sunday, November 26, 2017

आंतरराष्ट्रीय पोळपाट लाटणे ("the best PolpaT-LaatNe in the universe "-D.J Trump)


माझी फेसबुक वरील , मला कधी  न भेटलेली मैत्रीण , विशाखा पर्वते .   अमेरिकेत राहते .  आम्ही दोघी अंगत पंगत ह्या फेसबुक वरील ग्रुप च्या सभासद आहोत .

विशाखाने नुकतेच  एका  पोळपाट लाटण्याचा फोटो पोस्ट केला .   तुम्ही म्हणाल, "त्यात काय मोठं ?"  मोठं हे, की कॅलिफोर्नियातील रेडवूड  लाकडापासून हे पोळपाट ,  अमेरिकन  ,  IT मध्ये काम करणाऱ्या त्यांच्या मित्राने स्वतःच्या हाताने बनवले, आणि त्यांना भेट दिले.

तुम्ही म्हणाल , लाटण्याचे काय ? तर लाटणे , हे तर विशाखाच्या  कोकणातल्या पणजोबानी  फणसाच्या लाकडापासून आपल्या सौभाग्यवतींसाठी बनवले.  पिढीजात लाटणे.

असे हे पोळपाट-लाटणे वापरून पोळ्या /फुलके इत्यादी करणे म्हणजे आंतरराष्ट्रीय सहकाराचे चालते -बोलते-लाटते उदाहरण .  शतकापूर्वीच्या लाकडाचे पोळपाट , आणि शतकापूर्वीचे लाटणे .

मी फेसबुकवर आल्यापासून माझे DP , म्हणजे "उडणारी लाटणेवाली बाई"  कधीही बदलले नाही. आता मी ह्यावर कविता नाही करायची तर कोणी ?


फोटो सौजन्य : विशाखा पर्वते
  उत्तुंग रेडवूडचे रान,
अनेक शतके वसुंधरेने सांभाळलेले वृक्ष,
आणि वय झाल्यामुळे कधीतरी

एखाद्या वृक्षाची मालवलेली प्राणज्योत.

वसुंधरेंच्याच कुशीवरचे ते अचेतन लाकूड ,
कुणा एका आयटीवाल्याने
आपल्या कुशलतेने
मशीनवर ,रांधून, घासून, टोके मारून ,
गोल कापून , आणि कडा
गुळगुळीत करून
​बनवलेला पोळपाट,
आपल्या न दिसणार्या जखमा सहन करत
स्वयंपाकघरात ओट्यावर विचाराधीन आणि काळजीत .

ओट्याच्या खाली कप्य्यात अचानक ऐकू आलेली खडखड ,
विशाखाताईंनी कप्पा उघडून शोधलेले
गडबडीने कारण ,
आणि
एका ​अदृश्य प्रेरणेने बाहेर आलेले
एक लाटणं .

शतक लोटले ,
तरी एक लाकूडच दुसर्या लाकडाचे मन
समजू शकतं .
कोकणातली वाडी ,
तिथल्या आमराई , सुपारी आणि फणसाच्या बागा
आणि खूप पूर्वी अश्याच एका फणसाने
स्वतःची रजोनिवृत्ती समजताच
कामासाठी दिलेलं आपलं लाकूड .
कुणा एका हौशी पणजोबांनी
कौतुकाने पणजीबाईंसाठी बनवलेले
सुंदर लाटणे.

पोळपाट आणि लाटणे भेटणे ,
लाटण्यानें हळुवार पोळपाटावर फिरणे ,
जणू काही अदृश्य जखमांवर
सहानुभूतीचे मलम लावणे.

पोळपाट नव्या उमेदीने तयार ,
आणि एक दिवशी
फुलका लाटता लाटता
कुठंतरी विशाखाला कोणीतरी
पाठीवर कौतुकाची थाप मारल्याचा भास होणे.

फुलका लाटला ,
तव्यावर पडला , आत्मविश्वासाने फुलला .

दूर कुठेतरी एक कोकणातले पणजोबा ,
रेडवूड रानातील एका रेडवूडजोबांच्या
खांद्यावर अदृश्य हात ठेऊन म्हणाले ,
"Wonderful, isn't it !"
आणि रेडवूड आणखीनच ताठ मानेने उभा राहिला,
आणि म्हणाला ,
"आपल्यासारखं , न भांडता , एकत्र काम करायला
सर्व शिकले ,
तर हे जग किती सुंदर होईल , ना ?".....


The Final Cry ....


My cousin Dr Madhuri Gore recently posted this photograph of  what she called the "ultimate remains of a tree"  spotted by her on the Elephant Beach, Havelock Island, The Andamans.

So many of the islands that make up the Andaman Islands,  are full of old ruins of the various activities,  punitive and otherwise , carried out by the British, against Indians fighting for Independence;  like an island (Neil?),  where so called "enemies of state were hung" ,  and the famous Cellular Jail in  Port Blair , where one may still see the torture methods used on prisoners.

It must have been interesting being a tree on one of these islands.  A life longevity akin to those who have lived a simple, disciplined life in consonance with Nature, and then a message to those of us left behind. 


What a life.

Witness to war,
Swarming British, perhaps a few
Japanese across the islands,
punishing Indians
fighting for Independence,
then seeing jails built.

What a life.

The presence since then
of the Indian Navy
and tons of mainland folks
crowding to enjoy the beaches
and history.

And again,
what a Life 

and 
what a Death.

Like the Jarawas*
decimated in their own land,
now only 423,
she lies on the beach,
one more tree ,
greenless, motionless,
shaken to her roots
by not just the earthquake
and tsunamis,
holding out her hands to the Sky,
asking
"what have we become? ,
a insensitive, violent, thoughtless people?"
before destructing to pieces
and flowing into the Deep...

What a Death.




*Jarawas : Native adivasis / indegenous people from the Andamans,  who have inhabited these islands before anyone from the modern  colonising world  landed up there. Excessive thoughtless interference and interaction by the outside world threatens the health of these tribes.

Tuesday, November 7, 2017

Mackerel Moksh!


My young friend Swapneel Prabhu,  belongs to a community which excels in cooking seafood in many traditional ways.    He recently experimented with smoked mackerel , using some traditionl utensils actually meant for other stuff, and described the meal ; in his words ,

"Smoked Mackerel (Bangda), Pomelo (Papanas), Boiled Red Rice (Ukda Tandul), Ambehalad - Tirphal/Teppal Vinaigrette and Sugarcane-Kand Crisps. I flaked the smoked mackerel and mixed in the fish petals with shredded Pomelo segments. The bright, fruity acidity of the Pomelo helped counter and balance the intense, smoky mackerel.
Toasting the plump boiled red rice with a little coconut oil accentuated the nuttiness.
The light Ambehalad (MangoTurmeric) Vinaigrette tied the dish together. The Tirphal/Teppal mellows down the deep earthy flavour of the dark meat in oily fish like Mackerel which can sometimes be bitter and dominating. Kand and Sugarcane Juice crisps completed the plate with their texture and sweetness
."

I am a vegetarian, and have tried and rejected fish in my younger days, because I thought it was grosse to cut up something lying there with eyes open.  However, I can appreciate someone's creative seafood meal efforts.

Swapneel's photo of the smoked Mackerel actually looked like a wry smile, and the imagination went into overdrive.   The title has been copied from Swapneel's comment on the poem.




They say a Mackerelian soul
hovers around
for a while,
convincing itself.

An early world departure
through a fishing net.
A hot smoking with
other dear departeds
in a copper smoker
aided by the tirphalian assists.

Then a final giving of oneself,
through a scrape,
to an asking pomelo
and a beautiful mix,
admired by a plump red rice
enjoying a coconut oil stir.
A mango ginger celebration
to wish the soul
on its onward journey.

A giving of itself
selflessly,
even after being no more.
The satiated human
playing around with sugarcane chips.

The Mackerelian Soul
smiles.

Peace.

It leaves to become one
with the Big Sea.

Saturday, November 4, 2017

Life and Times : Khichadi


Never thought that the humble delicious Khichdi would have its day in the sun.  Around 800 kilos of it is being cooked in Delhi today, by India's celebrity chefs and 500 kilos more in Nagpur by some other celebrity chefs. The humble household khichadi , with its unique quality of empathy  for those eating it (and making it)  has something to say about politics, awards , and herself.

आपल्या नेहमीच्या साध्या सुध्या खिचडीला अचानक प्रसिद्धीच्या झोतात पाहून थक्क व्हायला होतं . युगे युगे बनवली गेलेली खिचडी , दिल्लीच्या दृष्टीक्षेपात आली , तरी तिच्यावर फारसा परिणाम होणार नाही . दिल्लीत ८०० किलो आणि नागपूर मद्ये ५०० किलो खिचडी  बनवली जात्ये आज .  पण राजकारण  हा खिचडीचा नावडता विषय . साधी , गरम, चविष्ट खिचडी , तिच्यात चवी पलीकडेही काहीतरी असतं . घरातल्या लोकांसाठी , मोठा आधार .  तिला राजकारणाबद्दल काय वाटतं , ते वाचा ..

(The original happened in Marathi.  The English version happened to commemorate the fact that the British stole our khichadee, and now call it something else. ....)

Graphic Courtesy CNN-News18

भाताचं आणि डाळीचं एक समीकरण असतं .
शक्यतो भातानी कुठेही एकटं नाही जायचं .
कधी एखादी श्रीमंत लोण्यात गुंग अशी डाळ,
कधी मेथी, पालक लोकांशी
विचारपूर्वक युती केलेली डाळ ;
कधी कधी तर भांडून भांडून
दोन डाळी एकत्र येऊन
अद्रक लसूण टोमॅटोमध्ये रमलेली डाळ;
आणि कधी कधी सात्त्विकतेचा परमोच्च अविष्कार
असलेले साधं वरण .



त्यामुळे जेव्हा काही बाळबोध डाळी ,
शिजतानाच भातात पडू लागल्या ,
आणि बरोबर फोडण्या, कढीपत्ते , जिरेपूड
घेऊन मिसळू लागल्या ,
तेव्हा भात अगदी हुरळून गेला .
अति मसालेदार खाणे,
दमून भागून कुठून तरी येणे ,
पटकन काहीतरी बनवणे भाग पडणे
इत्यादी कारणाने
ह्या "खिचडी " चे उद्घाटन झाले ,
आणि आज तागायत विवध वेळी,
विविध प्रकारात ती देशभर उजळून निघाली .


आपल्याकडे जरा कुठे प्रसिद्धी मिळाली ,
कि राजकारणी लोक कान टवकारतात,
त्यात आपला स्वतःचा फायदा काय होत आहे ते बघतात
आणि आपल्यात त्याला सामील करून घेतात.

तशी खिचडी हुशार . नव्हे, शहाणीच.

तिला भारतीय खास पदार्थ म्हणून संबोधलं जाणार
हे कळताच ,
तिने पापड, कढी , चटणी, लोणचं ,
बटाट्याच्या काचर्या , वगैरे मंडळींना बरोबर घेतले,
आणि सरकारला सुनावले.
"मी एकटीच खास नाही.
माझ्या बरोबरची मंडळी माझे कार्य
अधिकच सुंदर करतात,
आणि मला एकटीला भारताचा खास पदार्थ संबोधून,
कितीतरी रोटी, नान ,पराठा, परोटा , फुलका, इडली , डोसा,
उथप्पा , कोरी रोटी, मंडळींवर अन्याय होईल .
कितीतरी दुग्धजन्य , व इतर गोड पदार्थ डावलले जातील,
आणि भारताच्या खाद्य संस्कृतीत
विभाजकता माजेल.

देशातील राजकारण्यांची हि प्रथा असेल,
माझी नाही .

एखाद्या लहान मुलाने, कामावरून दमून आलेल्या गृहिणीने
अथवा फार भूक नसलेल्या आजी-आजोबांने
मला पुरस्कार दिला,
तर मी तो खाद्यसंस्कृतीचा खरा सन्मान समजीन.
आणि आयुष्यभर आनंदानं जपीन ..


आपल्या देशात , राजकीय पुरस्कार
आज काल जरा काही मनाविरुद्ध झालं
कि परत करतात .
मी त्यातली नाही . मला अवॉर्डवापसी जमत नाही .

प्लीज. मला माझ्या सहकाऱयांबरोबर एकट सोडा .
मी आयुष्यभर करत आले, ते करू दे.
साध्या माणसांना तृप्त करणे, आणि त्यांचे पोटभरणे .
जेणे करून त्यांना विश्रांतीत एक सुंदर
डुलकी लागेल ,
आणि सुखाची स्वप्न दिसतील.

तुम्हा राजकीय लोकांना हे आजपर्यंत जमलं का ?
 Dal and Rice have an Relationship.
Facebook would say , "It's complicated".

The Rice
is not expected to wander around
unaccompanied and unattended.
Sometimes by a Dal,infatuated by butter;
Sometimes , an intelligent coalition
with feungreek and spinach types;
Sometimes, a fighting union
with another dal,
coming to terms in ginger,garlic,
and tomato types;
and most of all,
in a display of Satwikness
of a high order,
A "Sadha Varan" preening in simplicity.

What really had the rice excited
was when the dals
started diving in as it was cooking,
accompanied
by similar actions by kadhipattas, cumin,
turmeric , agitated in ghee.

An overeaten spicy meal,
returning hungry andd tired from someplace,
and even suddenly having to make
a quick meal,
and Khichadi came into its own
Acche Din
across the country.

However, she suddenly got co-opted
as a country brand food
by the politicians,
who had their ears glued
to the potholed ground.

But Khichadi was smart.

She gathered together her team
of Papads, Kadhi, Chatni, Pickle,
GHee, and Batatyaachyaa Kachrya,
and actually told the government
what she thought.

"I am not special by myself.
All these folks here,
make my life beautiful,
and by branding me,
you are being unjust to my colleagues
Roti, Naan, Paratha, Parota , Fulkas,
Idlis, Dosas, Uthappas, Koro Roti,
and several dairy based special foods.
This will cause grevious division
in the Federation of Indian Foods.

This may be acceptable in politics,
but not by me.

IF I am honored with a prize
by a small child,
or a woman,
tired and back from work,
or grandparents ,
just wanting a one pot simple meal
I will be honored
and will guard the honor
all my life.

In this country,
if something does not agree
with someone,
they return the award.

That is not me.
I do not do award wapasi.

Just leave me alone
with my associates,
to do what I have always done.
To make ordinary folks happy
and satisfied with a meal;
perhaps satiated enough
to take a small nap
and see dreams of a happy future.

Have you politicians even managed
to succeed at that ?