No eyes for Painting

Sunita Giri 10:14 PM |

When I was a school girl, bunking classes was not much of the option, as they used to lock the gate to stop us within the gate of school or say inside the Bal Mandir premises. But when I look back its strikes me now, that Bal Mandir itself was such a huge place which covers big areas, that we need not get out of the premises, unless we have to.

As for bunking classes, when we were in about sixth or seventh standard, the art exhibition at the NAFA art gallery gave us the perfect way out from bunking those boring classes after day time snacks. As far as I can remember, NAFA art gallery hardly used to be out of exhibition. Those exhibitions used to gather the good crowd of people from outside, in the Bal Mandir. Perhaps, it was the only art exhibition in those days to give the podium to all the artist to be seen in the bigger market and also meet the potential buyers. Some of of those art exhibitions also used to get the openings from the Royals, which made it news also meaning more crowd flocked in.

So visiting those art exhibitions in big hall, corridor like long ones provided much needed escape from those regular classes. Its not that, I was very fond of paintings and had eyes for it. In fact I never had eyes for paintings or art until, I saw paintings by Manish Lal Shrestha.

Some times, NAFA art gallery used to exhibit, rows and rows of paintings by various artist at the same time, which used to keep busy even a child like me, who had least interest in anything but paintings. I did not even understood the meaning of those paintings, yet I used to take a stroll of those long corridor like, hall with hundreds of paintings for exhibition.

Its very strange that I used to take a stroll, regularly almost all the painting exhibitions. Yet; never understood and never ever gained a slightest interest in those painting, never tried to understand. And those abstract paintings, which made no sense to me, not yet. I have to borrow the words from Satish Shah, an Indian Comedian, who says on his famous series Sharabhai v/s Sharabhai for the abstract art “oh ! those painting you can hang on the wall from any side and yet people won’t even notice which side is up or down.” I so love this line about the abstract art and could not agree with him more on this.

I do remember spending times in front of nude pictures and giggle, but did not have a brain to think, who could have posed for the artist ? Did not even wonder, the question never crossed in my mind or any of my friend. Just stay in front of it and giggle looking at and pointing some private parts of the art. We must have passed some nasty comments, in front of the artist, without even knowing who he was.

Its really strange that those easy excess, to all painting exhibitions, never missed, yet; had no interest in it, and never ever grown any interest in it also. Even today when I visit banks specially Nepal Investment Bank, I do stop by in front of paintings and do spend some time in front of it that others, but my favorite is paintings by Manish Lal Shrestha. I like those big paintings on the bank’s wall, not in my room.

Oh yes ! when I lay my eyes on the his paintings, bright color blending captures my attentions so quickly and at the same time it sends my mind in deep tranquility and still mode despite its vibrant color selection by the artist. I have seen paintings by him abstract art only. That bell, which is his signature mark on most of his paintings, if not for all; some what seem to be sending the sign to remain calm my pressure and all the nerves in my neuron system, pulling all the things at once to calm me down. His art works wonder on me and my mind. It seem to be working on me on my all kind of moods. I never ever had eyes for painting but his work is, a pure exception.

When I look back and remember, all those painting exhibitions, I understand now that we have to see some things, throw our minds eyes, not just the eyes that meet it; specially when it is some thing, like paintings which is a creative work.
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My all time favorite food

Sunita Giri 9:51 PM |

Sel falls on, the must have food list, for any foreigners, especially expats, who wants to know Nepal throw its foods. Sel is a festival food, mainly this food is associated with Tihar, but now a days anyone can buy it from Bhatbhateni Super Markets any time, where it moves pretty fast, yet; that is also not as good as to make me forget, which I had in my childhood making it my all time favorite food. I have tasted all kinds of Sel, until now, but it only reminds me of how good they used to make it and we devoured it without even thinking how hard it was to make.

If I have a slightest doubt about the full contribution of Kedar Shrestha, the housemother during Dashain who help made delicacies wow ! and picture perfect, then there should be no doubt for her contributions to make Sel perfect one, during Tihar. Its not that there was not other dishes like Malpuwa and Puri but Sel really stood tall in front of other roties served during Tihar.

It could be, perhaps that in due course of time, I had Puri and Malpuwa, which were as better or at times a lot better than the one which I had in Bal Mandir, but I have not tasted not yet the kind of Sel; which they used to make in Bal Mandir. Until now I must have tasted close to hundred different kinds of Sel and from different houses. None of it come close to the kind of Sel, we had during my stay in Bal Mandir, not even remotely close.

Though ingredients to make it seems pretty simple and not much expensive also. All one needs is a bit rough rice flour, sugar, good quality fat and ample of it for deep fry and that's all. But not every one can make is as good as the ladies who made it, when I was young. Perhaps its the process and experience that is a must to make good Sel, than the ingredients itself.

Its one of my all time favorite food also, yet this is perhaps one of the things which I like but I don't know how to make it.

The sel, used to be very big, than they make it in normal families, which I find very lean and thin and pitiable looking, look of it makes me even more hungry for the sel which i grew up eating. They used to plan and make, two per plate for the main festival, so by default they have to make it big. They used to make enough for Tihar and after that they used to use the same for a day times snacks also, for a couple of days. Even after having it for couple of days, it only teased my taste bud for the whole year and the next year, it was the same story. It used to finish, without fully satisfying my desire to have more. I think its good, if I had it, up to my throat then; it would have never stayed on the tip of my tongue and memory until now.

When I look back, it really makes me wonder how could they maintained the same taste, color and the crust with its crunchiness in it, to stay in my tongue for long after, I leave my childhood behind.

One thing, which I remember is, boys and the wood chopper used to chop woods in small sizes and then let it dry under the sunny October sun for two - three weeks. Then for a week or so it used to stay behind the huge fire of big clay oven, where they used to cook our meal for twice a day, to dry it properly. Then it used to make its way to the first floor kitchen, on the day of Laxmi Puja. This kitchen was used as a room of two nannies as well as it also served as children's dress storeroom, for rest of the year but on this day, it is used as a kitchen, as it had the chimney to let all the smokes out of the rooms.

There all experienced ladies used to make Sel, Puri, Malpuwa during Tihar, which is the second biggest festival of our country. There on that room Housemother, Kedar Shrestha used to inspect every details of it, and order as per the need, to nannies who used to make it under her supervision. She was the perfectionist, so she paid attention to every small details. Shova Didi, Chandra Didi, and Jamuna Didis names comes instantly, in my mind, when the word Sel is mentioned.

The room, which is used to make Tihar delicacies, was small, enough only to cook therefore those roties needed to be stored in other room which was bigger. They used to store it in our study room, which remained vacant during the festival time. Many boys and girls used to light that big pan without feeling guilty, which was sent to store. Because just like Mo: Mo: Sel is also, the kind of food, which taste best, if you have it, while its still hot / warm. Its not that cold Sel is not good but to take the real taste of Sel one must have it hot.

They say that, God is in the details, so no wonder with her Sharp supervision and the hard work and experience of those nannies; the Sel used to be so perfect; its so hard to forget even today.
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Inferiority complex

Sunita Giri 10:32 PM |

If a person is deadly allergic to a particular food no one needs to kill that person. He only has to be given secretly that food which he is allergic and then the work is done. That particular food can be very normal to any other but the same food can kill the one who is allergic to that particular food. Just like that if a person is suffering from inferior complex no one needs to make him/her feel, what he feels. A small gesture, a hint or a sign language is enough to make one feel insignificant.

“Where is Nepal ?” is so simple question, but to one Nepali who felt so perplexed when asked by his colleague in Canada.

More he tried, more question popped up and he did tried his best to quench the curiosity but all in vain. for more on this see the link

My question to the writer of the article was, what can you do if their knowledge about our country is poor ? Just because we know all about the big country that is not sure fire that they too will keep a good track about small country like Nepal.

Many know that George Bush, was clueless about London, when he was elected president of US. After the news evolved most of the dailies in London [UK], had ran ads on their subsequent papers, showing London in the European maps and some even read like this, “we are here Mr. president.”

Its been a little more than a couple of months or so when a news made its round in internet that Justin Bieber does not know the meaning of German.

I am dead sure that the Germans give it a damn about it, that Justin’s general knowledge is very poor. He may be a Teen sensation and loved by the whole world but Germany is big nations in itself to pay much attention to the news and to be bothered by this kind of ignorance from Justin Bieber. But because we are from small nations like Nepal so when people from big nation asks us, “where is your country ?” and “we have never heard about it”, then it gets our deep subconscious mind and reminds us that how small and insignificant we are. we try to connect that unknown and small to our own identity, which we have been trying to make some what big and significant enough [in our personal life].

Only thing that got me thinking, is the person who wrote the write up, is a Nepali student of Ph.D, who is studying in Canada. He is also working there.

He reminds me of those, who were so infuriated, when they watched on TV, twelve Nepali were first kidnapped and then gun downed on video by some Iraqi terrorist [Islamics extremist] in Iraq on September 2004. Nepal was burning on every corner of the city following that killings. what is the connection between those who were killed by an Islam extremist gang in Iraq and properties worth millions burning here in Kathmandu ? What is the connection ?

What kind of mindset and inferiority complex it is ? Where is the proper reasoning ? Why a Ph. D student from Nepal, in foreign soil is not thinking any different; than the people on street of Kathmandu ? Is this because he is from Kathmandu. Thank God he did not acted like one of them. It just that it did not escape from my mind easily after reading it, instead it send me into deep thinking.

And I thought in my big part of life, this is my birth right as an orphan and the one who have spent time in orphanage !
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Mother - the other side of her

Sunita Giri 10:11 PM |

Mukunda Tamang, was like any other boys; while growing up in Bal Mandir. During his stay in Bal Mandir, he thought that like others, he too was an orphan. Once after turning in the age of sixteen, he too was sent in Nepal Army; like all the teenager, just like the other boys from Bal Mandir. Army’s job was regarded as good and secure job then. One need not have to be more educated and yet they get a job, which not only paid decently; also provided them good shelter too. On top of that, one is not required to be very good in study.

During this time, in his army post, he was shifted to many barracks, made more friends than he can even remember in due course of time. Some good and some lasted long and some did not lasted long. During one of those shift, in a barrack, he met Mukul Tamang, who was younger than him and soon they became fast friends and as time went by then became more than friends. They were like brothers. Both of them looked alike and they also shared the same caste Tamang to create more bond between them. Like they say, they were like bothers, so Mukul Tamang, once invited Mukunda Tamang, to visit his home in village.

One fine day, they headed to visit Mukul’s home. .These two have entered the village and the home as a good friend but they faced a new truth in that home. As the days passed by in his village; it became clear that Mukuls’ mother was the mother of Mukunda. This new news which surfaced on the air, did not please Mukunda Tamang, instead it disturbed him so much. It was said that, when the mother bowed her head on her long lost sons’ feet asking for forgiveness, in front of ‘Pancha’ of the village. What happened next, shocked the villagers, because boiled in anger and emotion Mukunda Dai, boot kicked his mother on her bowed head, in front of villagers.

I am not in touch with Mukunda Dai for about close to thitry years now, like so many others also who are in touch with me to get the clear picture of this story. Besides what they do in western county, digging names in Google also does not help much to get more information, about his where abouts; so I have only half story, which I hate. But when I try to understand, why he did ? the way he did ? I can only guess, although I may be miles apart ; from his way of thinking to this situation.

My guess is the truth that his younger brother was with her mother from the very beginning and he was not even aware of her existence; was some thing very hard to swallow and too much for him to take it easily and forgive her, even if she kept her head on his feet after all these years. It would not be too much to say that normal and natural sibling rivalry did play a huge role here in his reation. Here are two brothers who had two stark different life in their childhood. Surprisingly they both landed in the same workplace. who came on this earth from the same womb. The below question keeps coming in my mind :

  • did he forgave his mother at the end ?
  • did he ever visited again the village, which was his born place ?
  • how their relationship changed [Mukunda & Mukul], after the news surfaced, that they actually were blood bothers.
  • did he still remained friend with Mukul ?

It also can not be forgotten that, they were known to each other at the workplace so they must have been in touch. I don't think one of them could have left job, just because of this news. Yet, what happened next, I don't know; but love to know the remaining half of the story, because I hate half stories, which end almost nowhere. Above questions keep spinning in my head, every time this story reels in my head.

Here in our culture it is very strongly believed that fate is a lot powerful than our wish ? what is fate then ? why they say things are written long before we entered in this earth ? Is that the reason, they keep hammering in our head when some things goes wrong ? Is the word fate is an easy cover up word of our human weakness ? The last question sends me in deep ponder !
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Manner Police

Sunita Giri 10:06 PM |

It was around 1:30 and we were having light meal. During day time meal, normally its bit haphazard seating plans to eat unlike the morning and evening meal for which we have to follow the strict rule about our seat. Therefore, we were scattered around the kitchen area and its veranda from both side of it to eat our light meal, for which we call Khaja. I am guessing, it must have been during winter seasons, to get the warmth of the winter sun, we must have gathered in the veranda on both sides of it to enjoy our light meal.

As we were engrossed on having khaja, Samjhana Didi, who was also having her Khaja with us, saw one girl siting on the pirka* while having her own meal, with her thigh wide open showing her undergarments. She snapped very rudely, “pull your frock, and hide your dirty kattu, I don't want to see it while I am having my meal”. She must have thought she was done for the time but then when she turned her side she went like double eeww, as one of the boys was about to eat his meal under the full runny nose. She had that thin patience and that seem to be testing the same. She snapped back again with more disgusted look on her face, “wipe your nose, are you going to eat it also ?” Then, she spoke to herself, “Oh my God ! its going to make me throw up”.

It could have been late seventies or may be early eighties; I was not grown properly to remember her in my clear mind. Still, I do remember some things about her : Samjhana Didi, was a very small stature girl. She could have been shorter than the normal height of Nepali women, even of that times standard and she could have been less then 40 Kg at the age of about her peak of teen age.

She had very sharp feature and equally sharp voice to match her feature, which sounded very mean and unpleasant; specially, when she saw those sights, just when she was about to take her first bite of meal.

“Wipe your nose !”, “clean your nose !”, “pull your skirt and hide that dirty Kattu** of yours !” were some the lines she must have been used most of her time in Bal Mandir; than any other words. Besides, if some body ate with a sound of slurp, that also tested her thin patience and she used to snap out loud, without missing her chance to say, “stop eating like that, don’t you know how to eat [properly] ?”

Housemother Kedar Sherestha, was another one who was the best manner police and had ice thin patience for manner-less people. But, it takes years to realize that those were the bitter pills to learn manners.

Samjhana and Meenu Didi used to hang out with this housemother and I do not remember any other girls who were that close with her than these two girls. She did mentor them during their S.L.C. exams. Samjhana Didi and Minu Didi was the first girls to appear on S.L.C. exam from the Bal Mandir back in eighties. They not only appeared, but also made it on the first attempt, which opened the wide door for whole bunch of us, in the following years. It was the eighties time and girls were still not regarded, to send school and then college and on top of that we were growing up in Bal Mandir.

Today, when I see people vehemently clearing their throat and nasal and then throwing it on the streets so loudly, without hesitating, I remember Samjhana Didi. But the big question is, why grown ups do that kind of sickening behavior ? I guess Samjhana Didi could not be in every homes, to tell them repeatedly, “stop doing this !”

Those are times, I remember Samjhana Didi and wish she is there in every home to tell them sternly, not do do this ! This also reminds of an old saying, some times you got to be rude to be good.

Note :
*small wooden slate like object, which is made to seat about 4 small children to have sepcially meal.
** undergarment
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Extreme Inter-caste Marriage

Sunita Giri 10:03 PM |

One of the best things I like about my past, which is being grown up in Bal Mandir; is that here people go for extreme inter-caste marriage. Nothing airy about any caste system, which is so deep rooted here in our society. Nothing is spoken about and in surface label some even say it really does not matter in toady's society, but when it comes to close association the real picture looms large.

When Basant Khatiwada, was gushing about his girl Sarita Tamang. His skinny and bonny face had such a glow and his eyes was beaming and that smile on his face was some thing like a kodak moment which stayed in my mind forever. Later they got married.

Basant Khatiwada, was living with his old mother and I figured at that age people are very rigid on inter-caste marriage and might bar her youngest son to tie the knot with a Tamang girl. I think it was not just the inter-caste; it was extreme inter-caste marriage. That is why, it was a pretty good surprise for me.

Nicolas Thienbaut was adopted by a French couple, when he was only four months old.People here still remembers him as Chudamani Neupane, which I find very strange. When he grew up; he made up his mind, and announced it to his parents that one day; he will go back to Nepal and will marry a girl from the same orphanage, he was adopted. On 2004, when he visited Bal Mandir, there he met Pramila Harijan, who then was working in the library. he picked her up as his life partner and they courted only about a month during his regular visits to Bal Mandir during that time.

I do remember, when Pramila and her two siblings [she has one elder sister and other their younger brother], were admitted in the Bal Mandir, some staff members especially cooks; who were bahuns, forbade them to enter in the kitchen. I don’t exactly remember those four cooks real caste, but we used to call them ‘baje’ for they being bahuns. Here, in our society; bahuns regards themselves, very superiors and at times their talks can be intolerable, due to their superficial talks and attitudes, as for they belonging to this particular caste and they are superior than others and brainy and blah blah. Especially, they use that kind of attitudes to make other caste feel very inferior in front of them. I am sure its just the mind game which they indulge so much.

Its okay, to be proud of ones caste or community, but using the same to make others feel inferiors, it should never be accepted.

These three were not allowed to enter in the kitchen and anybody, whoever saw them, stopped them with harsh words and manners, to enter inside the kitchen. Because Harijans, are regarded as untouchables here in Nepali society. Some staffs did not spoke about it but yet they followed the rule strictly, without verbalising it by not drinking the water they touched. Apart from that, they were also not allowed to touch water tanks.

Pramila, sure has a reason to smile ear-to-ear, when she married a bahun guy by birth. Although, Nicholas no longer uses his biological surname which is Neupane, instead he keeps the surnames of his french parents - Thienbaut, as he was adopted by a french family. Today they are Nicholas and Pramila Thienbaut.

Damu Sherpa and Suman Dahal, both are from Bal Mandir. Suman was adopted by French family once he completed his SLC here and Damu had a Belgian foster parents but remained here in Nepal. When both of them completed their studies, they got married a couple of years ago and now they have two young children. It was also an inter-caste marriage.

I do remember Suman’s uncle, Shankar Lamichane, who was the accountant in the NCO, was shocked to learn that we eat buff once a week. He could not take it any more that his nephew and nieces are eating buff, which is regarded only the lower caste people eat. He tried so hard that we stated eating mutton after his intervention.

When people grow up in mass, surrounded by all kinds of caste; it gives us a chance to see each other from very closely that caste system or having superior attitudes about cast has skin deep reality. Generalising people by caste is based on false preconceive notions. For a real good heart, one does not have to belong to one particular caste group. Intelligence, manner, brilliance and behaviour does not belong to any particular caste or community. Such believe is only doll drummed in the ears of people from the very young age, which became a believe as they grow up.

If you know them very closely and know so many inside stories of various caste people, such believe, hold by some, so called high caste people, will be shattered and then the result will be extreme like this, inter caste marriage. All of them are happily married.

It feels good to say that I know all these people except, Nicolas Thienbaut. Its a nice and heart warming feelings. This kind of marriage will always warm my heart.
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Dashain delicacies, past and present

Sunita Giri 11:26 PM |

“How was the food” Mrs. Shrestha asked me, as I was about to leave Prabina Home. “It was ok”, I replied in response, hearing that she asked me again “just ok, was not food good,” I know, she does not like me to say it was okay, she expects me to say it was very good but I did not find the food better than okay, so I could not say it was good.

Its very strange of her to take my comments seriously. But if I advise her to do things the way I think its good she will dismiss it instantly, just like the guy, I dated couple of years ago and my not agreeing with his view was the whole universe to him. Could never understand what that mean nor I will ever be able understand this kind of mentally in future.

Its been three years, Prabina Home has started organising Dashain party. Always aroud the Ghatasthapa. Its a party for all those who is associated with Prabina Foundation, students who are boarded in different school of valley, student who are in college, children in the Prabina Home and then there are many ex-students like me. This is the 3rd year of such party. The number has increased more than a hundred people from 50-55 from the first year. Anybody can understand, its not easy to make food for that many people.

Dashain, falls on the month of October, it may start occasionally on late September; but the big day will inevitably falls on October. October is the month of clear sky, doted beautifully with colorful kites. Delicious aroma of food wafts from kitchen, filling the whole ambiance with good mood. When the word Dashain is mentioned, it brings so many good memories of past; specially childhood memories, which is invariable associated with foods and good food only, all good and nothing bad. New clothes, swinging ping and long vacation came alone with the festival season.

We all agree with the fact that, food has a strong power to communicate so many things with its look, scent, taste and flavour. It feeds your soul, emotion and bring back your memories or send you back in memory lane. Specially, when its festival food; as food is the prime focus of all festivals. The aroma of meat, fresh pickles of potatoes and radish fills the whole environment bringing all the excitement of hard work. It was a pure luxury; just to take a sniff of it, and strangely all that lasts in our mind forever.

Oh ! how this festival reminds me of the time; I have spent in Bal Mandir, most importantly Dashain, reminds me of the kind of food we had during Dashain.

Meat, lots of meat varieties used to be one of the best part of Dashain. But not just meat, other food stuffs were also part of it. People around the world knows; that, best food are always saved to make [and eat] during the big festival of the year.

A day before Ghatasthapana, eleven goats used to enter in Bal Mandir on rickshaw. Some urchins used to put hands on the back side of it, when they were urinating, then they used to smeared it on their mouth, which made them to turn up there upper lips. We the children used to clap saying , “look, they are laughing.”

If you have ever seen a laughing goat, I am sure you are going to agree with me, that it brings smile on your face every time, somebody mentions about it; for many more years perhaps decades to come.

About 10 days before Ghatasthapana started, Didis [room nannies], specially younger ones used to be busy grinding cumin and coriander, chillies lots of red chillies and garam masalas [hot spices]. Older ones used to help make meat varieties and pickles. Radish and peas, potatoes and peas, stuffed cucumber in big clay pot, and then leave it to mature for about two months under the hot summer months, prior to Dashain.

On the day of Maha asthami, they used to slaughter five goats. Male staff and boys used to be busy in meat department for cutting, boiling water to clean the slaughtered goats, some boys used to steal ears or cut the small parts of that half cut neck of goat to barbecue. Big girls used to help cut meat, vegetables and onions. Small children used to stay in a big round shape to peal garlics and gingers. On the centre of us there used to be bowels to keep garlic and ginger separately. Then an old but sturdy man used to grind ginger and garlic for meat and pickles.

Doing work and lots of work together used to bring the festive vibe so strongly, which made food so tasty. There was a woman named Chandra Didi, who was exceptionally, good to make food varieties. pickles and meat were her strength. I think she used to work in palace prior to her post in Bal Mandir, must have been in kitchen department. And most importantly, may be it was the housemother Kedar Shrestha, who has got high taste-bud and she made sure that everything is perfect during Dashian. Everybody used to work hard to make sure Dashain will be celebrated picture perfect way.

There used to be so many varieties of meats, fried intestine and stomachs, fried livers and lungs, they used to cook separately blood only, then there was meat and only meat varieties. There used to be enough meat for the big day, for 200 children. They not only looked yummy but teased our taste bud for a whole year too. The food which I used to have during the festival time, was so good that, I have not had any opportunity to taste it anywhere, any better than I used to get a chance to eat in Bal Mandir.

Usually normal food served at Bal Mandir, was not worth mentioning. In fact, its good if we could forget it, for so many reasons, but the food during festival is not only hard but impossible to forget in this lifetime. No one has ever gave me the opportunity to taste that good food; not yet.

Therefore my answer is going to disappoint Mrs. Shrestha always. I know that her project gets enough budget for this particular program as it is a biggest festival of our country but the taste of food and perhaps the meat item is so not up to the mark to give it a festive feel and mood.

I am a big fan of Chef Ramsay of Hell’s Kitchen, and his brutally honest comments, is some thing keeps my breath at hold. So if I have to pretend I am him and to review the food they served in the Prabina Home, I might give it only four out of ten. The look of food really lacks the pure interest of makers, poorly spiced, fit for the bed ridden people on hospital, weary and very pale looking sole meat item of a chicken curry, overcooked potatoes for pickles and curry also. Of course there was variety of curries but its not the important part, unless its scent makes you hungry, brings water in your mouth and has the power to stay in your mind forever. Foods were looking so forgettable looks and it only gave me the vibe how tired and uninterested people were, while they were making it. They must have been thinking they would rather be somewhere else, than making this food. The curd on the big bowel was less than a day old, so needless to tell you it was runny not the frozen. I am sure they have to throw most of it as many people stay away from it. The foods also lacked the sheer energy, it failed to impress me in terms of bringing joy and add the mood of the festival, unlike the food delicacies they used to serve in Bal Madir.

That's why I strongly believe food tells it all. If spices and flavour on it tell you, the taste of the chef then the look and vibe of it tells you their kitchen habit.

Food tells you a whole story.
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