Diwali in a Jar -- or Spiced Nuts

In the neighborhood that we live, we have a lot of Indian neighbors, and as a result invites for Indian festivities like Haldi-Kumkum, Lakshmi-puja, or Kanya puja on Ashtami are in abundance. Most of these festivals are done by the women folk, who are very open with welcoming new people into their house or sharing their home-made goodies with others. Puri-halwa-kala chana on Ashtami days, sundal and small packets of haldi-kumkum on the Lakshmi puja days and boxes and boxes of delicious sweets on Diwali are shared with much love and joy.

Now, although I celebrate Diwali with as much merriment as any other, making sweets on Diwali is not a tradition I grew up with. Very practical too, as we are done with our sweets like naru and sondesh making first for Bijoya Dashami, then Lokkhi Pujo and now we are prepping to make more for Bhai Phota. In between Diwali is when we light up candles, enjoy some fireworks, do Kali Puja and enjoy sweets gifted by other people!!!

However this year, I wanted to share some Diwali gift with my neighbors too. I had already shared Roshogolla with them for Durga Pujo and it didn't make sense for me to make more sweets. I was enjoying the besan laddos and gulab jamuns that were piling up in my house.

So I decided to gift them Diwali in a Jar!!! It all started with a 40% coupon for Michael's the craft store and the dozen Mason Jars that I brought home from there. It was to be my project for a relaxing evening. I would sip tea, watch some sitcoms and decorate mason jars. The plan was to put some Diwali trinkets and chocolates in the jar. The main focus was decorating the jars and me having a "relaxed evening". But did that happen as I planned ? No. Never does.

The moment I sat down with all the bling craft jewels and the shiny ribbons, LilSis joined me.

"I want to do one", she said. Well, so, yeah why not. She pulled away the jar from me and started sticking the jewels. I hovered around, hoping to guide. But she was doing a fabulous job anyway.

Soon BigSis came downstairs and whined, "I never get to do anything fun. All I do is homework. I want to do this too"! Oh, boy! Here goes my jar and "relaxed evening", I thought. Both the girls sat around intently decorating the jars with so much enthusiasm and artistry that I did not have the heart to ask them to stop. So they decorated all the 12 jars, and did a beautiful job of it too.

All you need to make these jars is:

1. Mason Jar
2. Variety of stick on Jewels (from Amazon or any craft store)
3. Satin Ribbons (from Amazon or any craft store)
4. Creative ideas

Meanwhile I roasted some nuts following this recipe. The only thing is I changed the spices and used all Indian spices like Bhaja Moasala and Chat masala. Once the spiced nuts were cool, we filled the jars with nuts and chocolates. These sparkling jars filled with spicy nuts and chocolates was our Diwali gift for our lovely neighbors. I am hoping they had a good time snacking.

Don't you think these would make excellent holiday gifts too? It is easy, simple and surely a keeper.

Mahalaya, Thin Arrowroot biskoot and Birendra Krishna Bhadra

I set a lot of alarms on my phone. From the first wake up call in the morning to alarms notifying me when the elementary and high school bus is supposed to come, I have a series of them set up in variety of tones. My wake up alarms are so melodious that I often snuggle in and go into deeper sleep hearing them.

This was not the case with my parents. We, or rather my parents had only one moon faced alarm clock, white and chrome, which stood on two tiny legs and had two buttons around the top. It was wound by a key like all clocks were on those days and I am sure the alarm was set in a similar fashion. Standing on its two legs, it looked exactly like how you would draw an alarm clock. It also had a jarring, steely noise, that would not only wake us up but also the neighbors and any stray dogs or cats in the street outside.

However, unlike me, my parents rarely needed an alarm. My mother's body clock would be naturally set to a fixed time in the morning when she would wake up. In turn she would go around acting as our very own human alarm. We didn't need a clock.

There were only 2 or maybe 3 days a year that our Alarm clock with the jarring alarm would be put to use. Two of those days would be when we had to catch the early morning train to go to my grand parent's home.

And the third day would be on Mahalaya! This day marked the end of PitraPaksha and start of Debi Paksha, the fortnight when Ma Durga would arrive. I did not pay any attention to these details though. For me, Mahalaya was synonymous with the radio program Mahishashurmardini, aired by All India Radio at an ungodly hour on this day.

We never did say "Mahi-sha-shur-mar-dini".
"Mahalaya shunte hobe", was the phrase. We have to listen to Mahalaya. It was not a day, it was a phenomenon.

To wake us all up in time for that program, the alarm would be set to an ungodly hour of 3 in the morning. To be sure that the hour is not missed, my diligent Baba always set a couple of practice alarms the evening before.Reassured by that earth shattering krrr-rr-ing a couple of times he would finally set it to 3AM the next morning.

He then checked the new set of radio batteries repeatedly and set the dial to Akaashbaani. My Mother kept her clothes ready to change into the next morning. It was no ordinary radio program after all.

"Kal bhor bela uthe Mahalaya shunte hobe. Ghyaan ghyaan na kore uthei chaan kore nebe", I would be coaxed repeatedly the night before, to wake up and take a shower the very first thing in the morning.

Honestly as much as I was excited for DurgaPujo, I dreaded the early morning Mahalaya. I was never a morning person and waking up at 3AM was not my forte. My parents were ardent fans of the event though and would be up before day break . Tightly holding a pillow over my ears I mostly slept through the jarring alarm and the sound of morning ablutions. My Mother tried various methods like untying the mosquito net and letting the soft net fall in a heap over my sleeping self. I did not budge.

Finally she would patter away grumbling about my insouciance. As the first pink ray of sunlight hit the earth, the radio would crackle and there was this resounding voice reverberating over ether and entering our home through the radio. The deep baritone of Birendra Krishna Bhadra, traveling from afar and bouncing off the walls of our house. There was some magic in that chant that pushed even someone like me out of the bed, and rubbing my eyes I would sit around the dining table listening to him invoking the Goddess. Crisp Thin Arrowroot biscuits dipped in cups of sugary tea, mingled with 'Bajlo alor benu..." on Mahalaya mornings.

Strains of the same voice would float around from neighboring houses too and the neighborhood would be all awake in their separate homes, united by the power of the single voice reciting "Ashwin er sharod o praate..".

I never managed to listen to the entire Mahalaya program ever and dozed off some where between the chant and the songs, carrying the voice deep in my heart. A voice that I would never forget even when radios were replaced by television and later youtube channels. On Mahalaya I still listen to the original version of mahishahshur mardini. In my early days in the US, it was cassette tapes but now Birendra Krishan Bhadra lives on over the ether once again via on-demand internet.

Tomorrow early morning it will be me and Mahalaya once again. With Birendra Krishna Bhadra, Thin Arrow root biscuits and cups of sugary cha. My girls will sleep on.




If you like what you are reading, get Bong Mom's Cookbook in your mailbox

Enter your email address:


Delivered by FeedBurner

Sanhita's Nonta Bhapa Pithe | steamed rice flour dumplings

Nonta Bhapa Pithe  | Jhaal Pithe | Steamed Savory rice flour Dumplings

Pithe is reminiscent of the times when paddy was harvested in the months of December-January and the new crop was celebrated by making dishes that used rice, date palm jaggery(khejur gur also collected in the winter months) and coconut. There are a variety of pithe and puli made from these ingredients - patishapta, doodh puli, gokul pithe, bhapa pithe, chitoi pithe etc. While most of these have a sweet coconut-jaggery stuffing, the Nonta Bhapa Pithe is a steamed rice flour dumpling which has a nonta aka savory stuffing. It is also called jhaal aka spicy pithe because of the stuffing.

When the world around us is in a tumultuous state, among the few things that bring sanity, is food that has ties with our roots. Those ties might be frayed and not often remembered but it is there, a gentle reminder of who we are and how our journey has been. How in this global world, we have all immigrated, far from our roots, whether it is within the country or outside. There is comfort in knowing recipes that are old and yet have stood the test of time and movement. Knowing that this was the food prepared and consumed by my kin, in a different era, different world, in times of different beliefs, gives us strength in its perpetual persona.

Pithe,is reminiscent of the times when paddy was harvested in the months of December-January and the new crop was celebrated by making dishes that used rice, date palm jaggery(khejur gur also collected in the winter months) and coconut. Poush Parbon or Nabanno was a celebration of the new crop of rice, which was the mainstay for the then agrarian society. We have moved many years forward from those times where rice is now GMO and harvested multiple times and grated coconut can be found in the frozen aisles of grocery stores. Yet, we still take the effort to celebrate poush-parbon, in our home to honor those simpler times when we revered soil and its bounty, instead of taking it for granted like we do now.

Usually during Poush Sankranti, I hover between my fail safe recipes of paati-sapta and gokul pithe. I have never tried to make pithe with rice flour which is quintessential part of poush parbon for Bengalis. My Ma makes puli pithe which are rice flour dumplings shaped like a small rugby ball and stuffed with nice things like kheer or coconut. These "pulis" are then steamed and dunked in a milk based paayesh. I have never been fond of them or tried to make them. There was a nonta pithe or bhaja pithe that my Ma used to make with sweet pea stuffing. Those I loved butI have never worked with rice flour so didn't try making those either.

That doesn't mean, I miss those though. I know an amazing bunch of folks who are all very talented when it comes to cooking. One of our friends Sanhita, is an expert when it comes to whipping up traditional Bengali delicacies. Every year during Sankranti, she takes it upon herself to make all kinds of pithes and pulis, and then invites all of us over to her home for a pithe party. Didn't I say, I had amazing friends?

Pyarakia or Gujiya -- sweet and savory

I had no intentions of making anything for Sankranti. As I always say, I don't want to eat any more sweet in January and the only things  I can make for Poush Parbon are sweet -- Paati Sapta and Gokul Pithe. I am not confident to make the puli pithe, seddho pithe or any other kind of pithe. Then last night I was talking to my Mom and I was ho-humming over whether I should make Koraishutir Kochuri today. The girls love Koraishutir kochuri and making the pea stuffing is not a difficult task with frozen shelled peas. Then my Mom suggested that I make Pyarakia.

Pyarakia is basically half-moon shaped dumplings made with flour and stuffed with a coconut-khoya filling or a kheer filling. The dumplings are deep fried and dunked in sugar syrup. I loved the ones with a kheer stuffing as a kid. My mother would make them pretty often and I would refer to them as the "binuni wala mishti"-- the sweet with the braided edge.I don't know if everyone calls it Pyarakia as I have often seen this thing going also by the name of gujiya.

Combining kochuri and the pyarakia, I decided to make savory Pyarakias with sweet pea filling. I also made some with a coconut-khoya stuffing but unlike my Mom, I did not dunk them in sugar syrup.

The girls loved the ones with the pea filling better and so did I.

Make the coconut-khoya filling


Take 1 cup of grated coconut. Fresh is better but I used frozen. Microwave the frozen one, to make it soft and fluffy

In the Kadai or Frying Pan mix the grated coconut with 1 cup sugar and mix with hand, pressing a little, so that the coconut will become slightly moist because of the sugar. This step is before the pan is put on the stove.

Next Microwave 1/2 Cup khoya to make it a little soft

Put the Kadhai/Frying pan with coconut mix in it on the stove and stir at medium heat.
Add 1/2 tsp of ground cardamom

Add the khoya and keep on stirring till the mixture turns a light brown and is sticky. At this point the mix should not dis-integrate but should look like a light brown slightly sticky granular substance. It took me almost 30 mins to do this


Make the sweet pea filling

Defrost 1 cup of frozen sweet peas. I usually prefer the Microwave for such purpose.

Put in a blender
the peas
1 tbsp of peeled and chopped ginger
1 green chili(optional)
very little water, a tsp to start with
Make a fine paste

Heat Vegetable Oil in a frying Pan

Add 1/4 tsp of Cumin seeds + a pinch of Hing/Asafoetida. I will insist on this as it lends an awesome fragrance. 

Add the pea paste that you just made. Sprinkle 1/4 tsp of Dry Roasted Cumin + Red Chilli Powder(Bhaja Moshla). Add salt to taste. If your peas are not sweet enough add a little sugar. If you like it hot add some Red Chili Powder. Improvise.

Now keep stirring till the water from the pea mix totally evaporates and the mixture becomes dry, thicker and congeals. This takes a good 20-25 minutes or more. Basically it should come to a stage where you can make a small ball for the stuffing.

Make the Dough

In a bowl take 1 Cup of Maida/AP Flour. Add a pinch of salt.

To it add 2 tbsp of vegetable oil or ghee. Mix with the tip of your fingers to get a crumbly texture.

Add warm water gradually to make a stiff dough. The dough will not be as soft as the one you make for luchi/poori/kochuri.

Wrap the dough with a cling wrap or damp cloth and keep aside for 15-20 minutes

These are the two stuffing I made -- sweet coconut-khoya and savory sweet pea

Take a small gooseberry sized ball of the dough and roll it out in a circle. Take a small ball of the stuffing and put it in the centre of the circle.

This one has the sweet coconut filling

This one has the savory sweet pea filling

Fold the circle to make a half-moon shape. Press and seal the edges with the tip of your finger. Make sure the edges are sealed properly, else the stuffing will come out while frying.

You are ideally supposed the braid/pleat the edges as you can see in the photo below. I was not good at that and so with the back of a fork made the empanada style markings to seal the edges

The husband-man could braid the edges. Yeahhh!!!!

Heat enough oil in a deep bottomed kadhai  for deep frying. Ignore the black edges. This is our deep-frying kadhai and this is how it is supposed to look.

When the oil is hot, gently put a dumpling in the oil. Fry each side for about 30 secs by which time it will be a nice brown. Flip and fry the other side.. Take it out with a slotted spoon and put on a plate lined with kitchen towel to drain the excess oil

The girls loved the ones with the spicy pea filling

If you like what you are reading, get Bong Mom's Cookbook in your mailbox

Enter your email address:


Delivered by FeedBurner

শুভ নব বর্ষ -- Shubho Nabo Borsho

If I had total free rein, this is what I would eat on Poila Boishakh to start off the New Year

Posto Bhaape in Microwave

Because it is Posto and it reminds me that the greatest joys come from the simplest things

Narkel Moshla Potol

Because this is the best time to eat Potol while it is still tender and eminently edible. You get done with it on the first day of Boishakh and then you are a free bird.

Mator Dal Sabji Diye

Because it reminds me of Mother Earth

Dim Kosha

Because there is no day that a Dim Kosha cannot make better

Doi Maach with Salmon

Because salmon is a fish I always have in my refrigerator and it goes so well with the Bengali recipe of doi-maach reminding me that I am lucky to celebrate two New Year days in a single calendar year.

Goalondo Steamer Fowl Curry

Because it tells me that even when you think there is nothing new to be done, no quest to pursue, you find treasures in the ancient ones.

Aam Pudina Chaatni

Because it is so very green and fresh just like the notun bochor

I would not make any dessert after this but would love to finish off with a bowl of Nolen Gur er ice cream

Because sometimes you need to put up your feet and take a large scoop


Have a lovely start to the Bengali New Year tomorrow

If you like what you are reading, get Bong Mom's Cookbook in your mailbox

Enter your email address:


Delivered by FeedBurner

Apple Cake and a Happy Diwali

October and November are busy months. Being a true Bengali at heart( or at least half the heart as those who know me will insist on my ties to Bihar), I have the habit of embracing every other festival that comes my way.By "I", I do not necessarily mean the first person singular, rather it is a representative of the multitude "We", who do the same. However there is a fine print in all this embracing. The fine print clearly states to embrace only festivals that have a happy ending and does not involve any kind of physical discomfort, be it fasting or walking.

So with much joy we jump from Durga Pujo to Lokkhi Pujo to Halloween and then take a short break to sort through and upload Durga Pujo selfies, after which we march into Kali Pujo followed immediately by Diwali and Bhai Phota ending it with a Thanksgiving Turkey only to celebrate Christmas again in 3 weeks.

Since Thanksgiving or Halloween was not part of my childhood and Christmas was kind of like a watered poach on a soft winter day, Kali Pujo and Diwali marked the culmination of the month of joy and festivals for us. We never had a month long holiday and after the ten days Dusshera break, Diwali was a two day holiday affair. The days would be cold by Diwali and there would be dew glistening on the grass in the mornings. Dusk fell quickly in the month of Karthik and the lanes in our small town would grow quiet early in the evening with only a few people on cycle or scooters, their upper body tightly wrapped in shawls, returning home from the market or work.

Strangely it is the dusk and the quiet that I recall of Diwali. As if the Kalipotkas never existed. Diwali doesn't remind me of firecrackers, instead it reminds me of row of slim white candles their lights flickering in the light autumn breeze and the clay lamps filled with oil bravely glowing in the darkest corners of the uthon. It also reminds me of "Gharonda" -- mud doll houses and the "kuliyah-chukiyah" -- toy pots and utensils made with a shiny pink clay that was a Diwali ritual when I was still younger.

Diwali for me is all about light and clay and flickering lamps on dewy evenings. So every year, I make it a point to get the girls paint a few clay diyas. I think it would help them be a part of the festivity. And of course because it is very low hassle for me. I can just hand the girls, a bunch of clay diyas, some acrylic paint, brush and a few sheets of adhesive jewels and go take a nap. After a few hours whatever they do will turn up gorgeous and best part is usable.

• Buy a bunch of plain clay diyas/clay lamps from your Indian grocery store
• Wash them and set out to dry overnight
• Next day find a nice spot for the kids to sit on the floor and paint. Put a mat to cover the area and make clean up easy.I usually spread a sleeping bag covered with a bedsheet and then put them in the washer to clean after the activity.
• Get 3-4 bright colored acrylic paints
• Paint the diyas
• Let the paint on the diya dry
• After the diyas have dried out, decorate the diya with stick-on jewels
• You can put a tea-light candle in the diya and light it

I have been seeing this Kundan Rangoli on the internet for a long time but this year decided to let the kids do a simple version of it. I got some idea from here.

• Get this clear Grafix plastic sheet. You can get them from Amazon.
• Buy packs of stick-on jewels. Again good deal on Amazon.
• Put a rangoli pattern or rangoli stencil beneath the plastic sheet.
• Now stick the jewels on the plastic sheet according to the pattern
• Even if the kids don't exactly follow the pattern and follow their heart this will end up sparkly and beautiful.

This is also a month of birthday in my home and while my Ma's b'day is celebrated on Kali Pujo when she usually fasts, the husband-man's birthday is on a fixed date which falls around the same time. We made a beautiful apple cake for him which was in perfect sync with the season. The cake came out really really good and I hope to bake it again soon.

Here is the Apple Cake Recipe from Smitten Kitchen. I followed the recipe closely except for some little changes here and there. I added a little butter and drizzled a little maply syrup after taking cake out of the oven. It was a delicious cake with apples going all soft and sweet, and my kitchen smelled of fall, apples, Diwali and what not.

If you like what you are reading, get Bong Mom's Cookbook in your mailbox

Enter your email address:


Delivered by FeedBurner

Chocolate Narkel Naru Truffles -- in a flowchart

Durga Pujo is over. Umpteen of them. Spread over weekends, weekdays and months, there were gorgeous pics of Ma Durga and glamorous pics of her devotees all around on my Facebook feed. I could feel the festivity right here, on my laptop. We had our own share of fun too. Saptami'r anjali, Ashtami'r bhog, Nabami'r arati, we meticulously followed the traditions, draping nine yards after work on a weekday and dragging tired children with their homework folders from mandaps to mandaps.

It wasn't religion that pushed us.

We were okay with offering an evening anjali after the day's meal, circumventing the scriptures which speak of fasting. We diligently bowed our heads in front of the protima, her bright gaze penetrating our hearts, but only a moment later we stood in a line smiling at the camera urging the photographer to make us look as slim as possible. If we found that the queue for Bhog was too long and the Khichuri wasn't enticing we trooped off for a Sri Lankan meal winding it down with Singa beer.

It wasn't religion. It was tradition.A pleasure in the mere sense that we belonged even if we were many miles away. It was more precious than religion.

It is for the same reason that I did Lokkhi Pujo and made Narkel Naru soon after. And it is for this that many of my friends do the same. When the oil lamp flickers and they read "Lokkhir Panchali" in a sing song voice, they are not praying for wealth or riches, they are actually building a bridge to their beginning.

My paternal grandparents were very ritualistic when it came to religion. Lokkhi Pujo and Saraswati Pujo were done at home by my Grandfather who sat straight, sacred thread around his bare upper body, chanting mantras in crisp Sanskrit. The entire neighborhood was invited on Kojagari Lokkhi Pujo and his perfect Sanskrit diction in the smoke filled Thakur Ghor made the whole thing very mystic.

But in that Thakur Ghor, you had to fast for anjali and sit cross legged with your toes tucked under the hems of your dress. There were allowances made if you were a child but adults were held to high standards. To pick flowers for Pujo, you had to shower and change into fresh clothes. The Bhog offered to the Goddess had to be cooked in much sanctity.You weren't allowed to touch the Bhoger thala until pujo was over and you knew not to enter the Thaku Ghor if you had your periods.

Microwave Chocolate Kalakand -- simple pleasures

Durga Pujo is over for most of you unless you are in some town in the US where there has been a conflict of schedule regarding the pujo location and the high school was not available last weekend and so Durga Pujo will be done after Kali Pujo or at anytime the auditorium is available. But it will be done no doubt and with much glitter and gold. Ma Durga is on an extended vacation in the US and it works well for both her and her multitude of devotees.

We did have a nice few days of Pujo, clamoring to reach the mandap after work and homework every day. The girls look forward to the arati so much that homeworks got done in time and the 40 minute drive was endured with little fuss. The added bonus is the presence of their friends at the mandap which means weekdays out of the ordinary.

When I asked Little Sis to write about Durga Pujo this is what she wrote. Clearly, she is a Bangali who is more interested in minute details about the Proshaad than anything else.

The funniest thing she said though was after watching "Wild Kratts"(an animated nature series for kids on PBS) on Shoshthi.

Dugga Dugga

I had planned to post this short story on Mahalaya, but never got the time. So finally here it is. Shubho Bijoya.

"Ma, Ma, Maaaa", there was frantic rapping on the door, a heavy, ornate, teak affair , showing signs of age. The paint was peeling off around the middle but you knew that this was a door which had seen good times and kids.

"Uff, this girl, she won't me let me do even one thing in peace," Dugga muttered, frantically clicking on the mouse, while scanning the screen in front of her with utmost concentration.
"And that nonsense of a guy I married. Shiva. No idea of family planning, no stable job, no investments, nothing. Just went ahead and had four kids. Did he even once stop to think that five flight tickets to Kolkata every year would cost more than his five year's worth of pot?"

Her grumbling was interrupted by the phone which set off ringing in a jarring conch shell tone.

"Oshur, Mohisashur. Can you pick the phone ? This Oshur is an absolute lazy bummer. I must have been out of my mind to hire him as secretary. Should have killed him right there at the Pandal." Dugga grumbled.

Seeing no signs of Oshur, she extended her fourth hand on the right to pick up the phone. It is not as simple as it sounds though. Weaving through her three other hands and flowing tresses to get the phone to the ear was a task in itself.

"Hello? Ke bolchen?", Dugga said, her voice calm and polite like the lady at the T-Mobile Call Center.

A far off voice, anxious and tense, came over the airwaves -- "Ma, Ma. I am Mrs.Sen from Baguihati. You are our savior Ma. Only you can help me from my suffering.My son is in Singapore Ma and he says, I have to send a sari for his Malaysian girlfriend. What to buy Ma ? Too many choices these days. Chiffon, georgette, dhakai, silk is all I know. But now they say Satya Paul, Mora, Sabyasachi. How do I choose Ma? What if my son does not like what I send ?"

"Aa molo jaa, jotto shob. Baba Mortyobasi earthling, I have enough troubles of my own to sort first.I haven't been able to book my tickets yet and it is already Mahalaya. MakeMyTrip.com is giving me the cheapest fare via Sierra Leone. Do you know what that means ? What if my Karthik gets ebola and doesn't make it. Well, he will not be missed exactly. But what will happen if Oshur is infected ? Do you understand that kids will not even come to the pandal without him and Tanishq will not sponsor a single gold necklace? But no, you will not think of my troubles. All you are interested is in your son, family and saree. Haven't I told you umpteen times that all of this is just Maya."

"Maya? Ma, Maya Saree? Now that you have given me wisdom, that is the one I will buy Ma. Joi Ma Durga", said Mrs.Sen, from Baguihati

Dugga banged down the phone in frustration and looked back at the screen.

"Maaaa, open the door," the whiny voice outside the door got louder."Have to ask you something?"

"What is it now Lokkhi ? Can you not be on your own for even a minute? Told you I am working."

Lokkhi managed to open the door somehow and entered the study in spite of her Mother's ire. A pair of low cut jeans hugged her bottom and molded her shapely legs.

"Maa, do you think I look fat ?" she asked. Her hands at her waist, one leg in front of the other, her face tilted slightly upwards, she tried to pose like Alia Bhatt.

"Nope", said Mother without taking her eye off the screen.

Lokkhi pouted and swiveled this way and that.

A melodious, tinkling laughter came from behind the huge couch. There was Saraswati, snuggled in a corner,the latest best seller "Fault in our Stars" in hand.

"You know that you cannot pack that for our trip, right?" Saro said.

"Maaa, I can't take my new pair of jeans??? Really ??? Aren't we going to stop over at the France?" Lokkhi looked visible worried.

"No France baby. Too expensive. Looks like Air India is our only option. Go pack some nice sari" said Dugga.

"But Kol people wear jeans Ma. And even dresses. Minis too. Why can't I? I look fat in sari, " wailed Lokkhi

"Whatever," Saraswati said, "Kol people might like your jeans Di but not the Kol Police".

"Haah, easy for you to say. You are so fair. Those folks will not even see what you are wearing just because you are so white," Lokkhi grumbled.

"You are so clueless Di.Have you even heard of the Dark is Beautiful campaign? No one wants to be fair anymore Soon they will market a cream called Dark n Lovely. "

"That is just what the antel people are doing. When I go to Liluah and Baanshdroni, they put up the Fair & Lovely ad right in front of my face. And then they say my complexion is wheatish."

"Uff come on Lokkhi. You are supposed to be Goddess of wealth.Have some confi, mortyovasis will always like you. They love money even more than the tube of Fair & Lovely."

"Wealth? You make me laugh Saraswati. I don't even have a job. What wealth do I have?"

"Arre you don't have to like really "have" it. Just post a pic on Facebook with the latest BMW na and they will all like it and think you are rich. It is all in the mind, you see. And besides that, it is high time you got a job."

"Girls, can you just stop your jabbering. Did you see the news ? At Sreebhumi pandal they will make me wear diamonds and we will each get our own bodyguard. And in Ekdalia, it is all that gold again by Tanishq", Dugga exclaimed.

"Really Ma ? Really? Can I wear some too? Hope I get Salman Khan for my bodyguard", Lokkhi squealed. Her sorrow over sari forgotten.

Saro rolled her eyes and went back to her book. Kartik strolled in, hoping to make his case, amidst his sister's conversation.

"But hey Mom, what about me? Why do I have to be still bare chested and all? You know all that waxing really hurts.And then they make fun of me, compares my tummy with SRK's six packs.I am going to wear my T-shirt this time. And remember none of those naru, sondesh for me. I am on a diet. I will make do with egg Roll and biriyani."

'Baba Kartik, do whatever you want. Honestly no one cares. I would have left you with your Dad and saved on a ticket but the organizers want some kind of symmetry on both my sides so have to take you."

"Hrmmmph, you always always ignore me.You never loved me in the first place. Always you and Dad are partial to Ganesh", Kartik stomped his feet and looked like he would burst into tears.

"And you love Lokkhi more than me too. I am the one who has to do all the studying and play the veena and practice my singing, while all Lokkhi does is paints nails and watches MTV. Not fair Ma", Saraswati joined in.

"Seriously can we have some peace here ? I have just come back from nine days of brain numbing Yo Yo Honey Singh and I have to go back there again. Do you even understand what I am going through ?" wise Ganesha strolled in, his belly fatter than what it was two months back.

"Yes, yes, we all know, nine days of modaks and laddoos are showing their signs Dada. You better sign up for the gym fast."

"Hey Kartik, don't act smart with me ok ? I don't complain because I know that Ma has to run this family and the moolah comes from our annual tours. But seriously these earthlings are getting on my nerves. They invite us and then expect us to kow tow to all their wishes. We cannot just continue to do things we don't like because the society says so"

"Baba Ganesh, what exactly do you want to say? Your mouse is giving me enough trouble and at this age all this online booking is driving me crazy. Given a choice I would have gone to Mars on vacation than the Earth."

"Well Ma, I mean if Lokkhi wants to wear her jeans, let her, it is okay. #hokkolorob. And Karthik doesn't always need to be bare chested, it is high time you realize that he is no match to Sallu. Even Tollywood has Parombroto these days. Saro, if you don't want to play the veena and do rap, go ahead but think wisely before you give up on it. And finally Ma, I think it is high time you decide what you want to do with Baba. A irresponsible , crazy guy like that doesn't deserve you. I think you should just move out."

"And also Ma, can you just stop hankering for diamonds and gold.Have you forgotten the fragrance of  garlands made of the orange stalked shiuli?"

Dugga, Lokkhi, Kartik and Saro stared, their mouth agape and their eyes wide.

Finally Dugga said, "Baba Ganesh, no doubt they call you Siddhidata.Tell those organizers at Ekdalia, I am boycotting pandals with diamond and gold. Karthik, go find where they have made garlands of shiuli  picked before the first sun's ray touches them. I will stand there where the kaash phool sways in the autumn breeze under the azure blue Sharat akash. If I am going to Earth on my vacation, it better be in my terms.And when we are back next week, get me a lawyer Ganesh will ya?"

"I think I will keep playing the Veena," murmured Saraswati.

If you like what you are reading, get Bong Mom's Cookbook in your mailbox

Enter your email address:


Delivered by FeedBurner

Shubho Bijoya, a Winner and Giveaway #2

Sorry, Sorry, I am not only fashionably late but also embarrassingly late to wish you all a Shubho Bijoya. Though ideally one can extend the Shubho Bijoya greetings for a fortnight after Durga Pujo, all the way until Kali Pujo or Diwali, we always rushed around the myriad relatives' home trying to finish the pronams by Lokkhi Pujo, the day of the first full moon after Durga Pujo.

Ghugni and Narkel Naru for Bijoya

There were always a few people who came after Lokkhi pujo to finish the Bijoya formalities and Thama, my grandmother, had very little regard for them. She usually dismissed them as "ajkalkar chele pule" aka the modern generation which in her language meant people with little respect for tradition. "Eto dine shomoy holo ?", she would say in a disenchanted voice and utter a cursory blessing making very clear her displeasure. Not that her criticism or grumbling affected the latecomers in any way, except that they were given much inferior snacks as compared to those who had come in early. The quality of the snacks in most homes was inversely proportional to the number of days that had passed since the day of Dashami and this was one of the important reasons why we tried to finish off the pronam formalities early. I think the latecomers were not really fond of food or at least not what was served on "Bijoya", mainly variety of sweets and nimki and risked being late.

Sometimes however the wind blew in favor of the procrastinators. If Thama happened to be in the Puja room or had retired early to bed, my Mother and aunt would ensure that luchis were fried and sweets were bought from the Sweet store, half a block away to feed the guest.

Now, since procrastinators are always welcome on this blog, I have two happy news for them

The important news is that we have a winner from the last draw. A certain "RRDutta" whose real name I am unaware of and who left this comment "To make an Indian lunch for my single colleague who has just joined the workforce and doesn't seem to think he has enough money to buy lunch for himself everyday.", was the one picked by random.org. Now, I have sent her an e-mail but am yet to get a reply. Maybe my mail went into the spam folder or something. If I don't hear from her in the next two days, the prize will go to the second winner picked which is "Mausumi Ray" whose random act of kindness is "My random act of kindness was and will be donating money to CRY to sponsor food, education etc. for kids."

The far more important news is we have another Giveaway. yehhh. This time I am giving away Devapriya Roy's latest book "The Weightloss Club". Now, don't get mislead by the title. This is not a book to lead you through a guilt path while you are devouring a pound of Diwali laddos. "The Weight Loss Club" has nothing to do with weight loss unless you are reading it while running on the tread mill, which I suggest you better not do. For this book, is to be read in a proper setting, by the window, with a cup of tea, cell phone switched off, some hot off the fryer pakoris by the side.
It has been my great pleasure, to know the residents of the Nancy housing colony better as they go about their daily life spiked with love, anxieties, pettiness, joys and sorrows and to be a part of their journey with a touch of mystic and now you have a chance to win your copy.

I will select two winners for this giveaway. To win your copy tell me, if you have ever lived in a housing colony, then what was the best food memory or any other memory you carry from there.

Below is an interview with the intelligent, young author. More about her here 

You have published 2 books, writing your 3rd and as I gather from the author's page in your book "Devapriya Roy is pursuing a PhD on the Natyashastra (at least, that is what she says when asked what she does). Once upon a time, she was the Keo Karpin girl." Tell us then who you really are or what defines you?

Oh dear. This is definitely the toughest question. If I were to be entirely honest. I think, before all else, I am a reader. And I am a romantic. I mean, I have written the novels, I am working on the third book which has gouged out a large chunk of my twenties, but to me it still seems that the writerliness is incidental; an extension of the two things above – being a reader and a romantic. And also, being not very good at much else. I am hopelessly bad at management and stuff. I write because I cannot not write – there is that deep internal compulsion – but I am also aware of the uncertainties of writing. But one can always read; that world is abiding.

And perhaps because I see the world filtered through a novelist’s narrative (a very dangerous thing, I admit) I am often shocked and amused at the moral high ground that is claimed by our intellectuals. You know? I mean, if we were reading about them as characters in good novels, there would be so many other details about them, defining them, that the moral high ground would have a deeper perspective. That is not the case, of course, in contemporary discourse. So, strange as it sounds, in a manner of speaking then, I think I am defined by books and by narratives.

2. Your first book was "The Vague Woman's Handbook". A charming read if I might add. What made you throw Keo Karpin aside and write it? Was there a story brewing inside you for long?

The thing about the Keo Karpin business was that it was a one-off. I mean I could never really have moved to Bombay and followed up on it and eaten carrot sticks to become that person. I don’t think I am ambitious in that way. Instead, I got married on a whim and got a job as an editor. And that is when The Vague Woman’s Handbook happened. When I was younger, I always thought I would write The Book first. Yet another stab at the Great Indian Novel. Something that would take years and years to research. And basically never get written. 

Fortunately, I had a wise mentor. He told me to write something already; something closer to my life and impulses. And that was the finest piece of advice really. I was able to use all the autobiographical stuff in obvious ways first. So with The Weight Loss Club, these were characters I knew intimately. But none of them were from my own life. So that’s how The Vague Woman’s Handbook was written. It helped that I was no longer a student of literature. I had shifted to theatre and performance studies. I was now reading loads of popular fiction. But at the same time, I wanted to do things differently even within the realm of popular fiction. Mil might be a very young but rather acceptable chick lit heroine, a bit ditzy, but hers is not a quest for love. She has already found it. 

So, in a way, the Handbook begins where most chick-lit ends. Abhimanyu Mishra, with his eccentricities, idealism and poverty is not the ‘hero’ out of a typical chick lit either. Indira Sen is at least twenty years older than the usual best friend. And so on.  

3. Tell us a little about the process from writing to publishing. Were you knocking at doors with a jhola and manuscript in hand or was it the other way round and publishers were pursuing you waving Guccis and Louis Vuittons?

Luckily, I have been in the middle. The Handbook was commissioned on the basis of the first chapter and the proposal, so I was very fortunate. Did not have to knock doors with jhola and manuscript! It can be SO harrowing. However, I have never had publishers chasing me with Guccis or Louis Vuittons or more importantly Big Fat Advances. Sigh. I wonder if that will ever be. The only time I had someone from the publishing house chasing me was the editor of my second novel, Pradipta Sarkar, because she wanted the manuscript which had been delayed beyond belief. However, I must confess, my publisher Karthika does gift me many books. Better than bags, no?

4. Your second book The Weight Loss Club has an interesting set of characters and relations and an undertone of spirituality. Did you find it more difficult to write this book? From a technical point of view, how did you manage to manipulate all these characters so seamlessly like an expert puppeteer? I mean at any point would you get confused between Monalisa and Meera?


From a technical point of view, yes, certainly, it was more difficult than The Vague Woman’s Handbook. All the characters became demanding, and I felt guilty because some were obviously getting more airtime and some were more fun to write. But the truth is, they became like relatives. Mind you, not like friends but relatives. We are likely to be more blind to our friends than to our relatives. So I got to know them all really well. I had all their details charted out too, in notebooks. Their back stories and family trees. So there was never any confusion about the people in the book, who were all very different. But there was definitely a great challenge in moving their stories forward, keeping the individual climaxes secondary to the larger narrative and most of all, in keeping it pacy and readable. I do remember calling Pradipta and telling her, ‘Never ever ever let me write a book with so many people in it!.’


5.  There was a time when we read books because so-and-so said it was terrific and so-and-so's neighbor did not sleep all night to finish it. There were no videos or book advertisements as far as I remember. We just discovered books or books found us. On your blog at IBN Live you recently wrote couple of posts about the prolific young writers of India who come equipped with sharp marketing skills. Do you think "a lack of it" hampers your book sale in any way?

Certainly one’s willingness to be out there on social media, connecting and networking, and one’s fungibility in marketing oneself through traditional media are very important factors in books selling. In my case, my grapes-are-sourish blog posts are based truthfully – and bitterly – on what I feel about this conundrum.    

Some people have fantastic selling skills. They can sell refrigerators to Eskimos. These writers fall in the first category. They are building their own refrigerators now. But it is also true that they are finding new readers too. However, there are some people who can build excellent refrigerators, sustainable refrigerators, hell, they might build talking refrigerators but not be able to sell them to a Delhi consumer. 

So that is why they need others to do that for them. But unfortunately, the world needs refrigerators more than books it seems. Publishing houses do not operate on margins that will invest in fantastic and sustained marketing for new authors. Their large-scale marketing efforts are earmarked for the Big Names. Because the marketing budgets for books are based on the print-runs. So in a way, the Bengali proverb ‘tela maathaay tel’ is entirely accurate in the publishing context. Now, thanks to the example set by these clever MBA authors, the publishing houses also expect the authors to do the marketing themselves if they want to really sell their books.

My problem with this is that it directly dilutes the culture of writing. Time being limited, you can only spend so much of it to improve yourself as a writer, through reading and writing, or you can think up marketing strategies and shooting videos and jumping through hoops in the same time. It’s like telling a serious singer to learn the tango to star in their music videos or telling sportspeople to attend acting classes to perform better in their ads. All in the spirit of very good business sense. But it means that those without business sense will remain minor. Nothing wrong with that. But it is important to embrace this.  

6. What keeps you ticking and writing?
I think it is the world of ideas and books that keeps me writing; my husband who keeps me ticking. And of course, the sense of larger failure that one feels growing up and engaging with reality in a country like India, a young country but with so much to be done, that also contributes to perseverance. You know? It comes from that mishmash – failure and hope – hope and failure.