Creating, collecting, and sharing thoughts and ideas. And learning along the way.
Last fall, we attended an amazing Odissi-style classical dance recital at the Residential College at the University of Michigan.
Of the group of six Indian women, two are twins, and it is hard to tell them apart from their mother, also in the ensemble! One piece on the program was a Balinese-style dance performed by quite an elderly Indonesian man.
As a new academic year approaches, I look forward to many more such recitals! Here’s what we enjoyed last Fall!
Veranda corridor at midday.
This is a story of the cheat who gets cheated, and the double-crosser who gets double-crossed. Over and above all the mindless violence and brutality portrayed in environs of civilized society, the foremost pillars of which are the political and judicial systems, this is a story of the depths of depravity that the human spirit is capable of. There is no loyalty, there is no integrity, there is no conscience. This is apparently the state of affairs in India, my motherland, and in particular in the capital city, New Delhi that I called home for a short while.
I found the performances striking and the storyline so depressing, that I kept saying over and over again to myself and to my husband that I could never call India home again, if this was indeed what things were actually like. The helplessness that must come from knowing that you are present in a place so filled with injustice and corruption, but being unable or unwilling to do anything about it would be the death of me– or a sure cause of my insanity. Shagird is the Urdu word for disciple, and sure enough, we are shown how one emulates the other with such devotion and panache, they are truly shagirds of the first order.
Nana Patekar is proving that it is possible to never age in human years, or at least that it is possible to arrest the onset of old age to the point that it is imperceptible!
The bottom line is that there is nothing lacking in the movie-making department of this movie, and yet it was anything but entertaining. And yet, it was extremely thought-provoking to the point of being revolting which is probably the highest compliment one can offer to the director and actors of this movie. The fact is, I would have been better off had I not seen it, because I am further discouraged and disheartened at the state of affairs of my motherland and my erstwhile countrymen.
Karachi Halwa isn’t quite as gooey and stretchy as the Bombay Halway, plus it isn’t brightly colored like that either. Also, this has the fancy almond garnish on the top. Love them both!
Gotta love those Black-Eyed Susans!
That’s right: it could be an hors ‘deouvre or an entree, and you could call it anything you wish, because the fact is that although I have created this recipe, I have not christened it!
So, how do you make it, you ask? Well, you get yourself a great Foccacia flatbread— mine is made by my local bakery with rosemary and sea-salt. Slice through the bread and put the cut-side face up. Drizzle extra-virgin olive oil on the airy insides of the foccacia. Next crumble the best quality of Goat Cheese or Chevre onto the bread, then slice up your tomatoes (from your own garden are best, by the way), a little more Chevre (made in USA, this one) please, and finally, the piece de resistance: fresh basil from your garden.
Bake in a preheated oven at 400 Fahrenheit for 15 minutes, remove, serve on a quarter-plate with fork and knife, and voila, you are a goddess! Seriously! See for yourself what I mean!
What makes it American? A steamed bun, a boiled dog, ketchup, and mustard.
Authority forgets a dying king, Laid widow’d of the power in his eye That bow’d the will.
– Lord Alfred Tennyson (1809-1883)
