The Myth behind why the Moon changes shape.

There was once a time, when the world was calm, and the Moon shone in all its glory every single night, reflecting the light from his brother Sun, to brighten the night skies. The Moon let his light dance on the water, and cut through the canopies of vegetation, illuminating the Earth as were his purpose in life. 

Now, one night as the Moon sat high in the sky looking at his round reflection, for then he was always round, there was a ripple in the reflection.  A Lotus tendril, the first ever, emerged from below the ocean, for then there were only one ocean and the earth was not divided in pieces, and looked straight up at the Moon.

As the nights passed, the dancing tendril soon grew into a beautiful white bud and the Moon  showered his heavenly light on her. Each night when the Moon came out in the sky, the Lotus grew her blushing petals, and these unfurled with every passing night till on the fortnight she came out in full bloom. The Moon stood overwhelmed, aching to come down to the earth and caress the Lotus that had just bared open her soul to him. But alas, what could the Moon do? He just stayed up in the sky and looked longingly at the Lotus.

Next night, a strange thing happened. The Lotus began to wither. Over a few days, the Moon watched with fear as the Lotus began to lose her pink petals, one by one. By the end of the next fortnight, the Lotus shed all her petals, humiliated and stripped to her very soul. And then she drew back into the sea. That night the pain of the Moon knew no bounds. He shone fiercely, in anger and helplessness, at his mightiest. The wolves howled in fear.

The subsequent night another tendril arose from the ocean, and the Lotus began to call out to the Moon again. The Moon initially delighted, was soon in despair, as by the end of the month, the Lotus, painfully, again withdrew into the ocean, much to the Moon's chagrin.

How cruel must he seem as while his love lived and breathed, and sighed and died every month, just for him, he stood there ever so consistent and seemingly unaffected. The Moon grew a pale white.

The Sun saw the struggle of his brother, with each passing month. He knew they could not abandon their purpose and he also knew that the Moon was irrevocably in love with the Lotus.  He pondered over what he could do for his brother, and came up with a thought. He told the Moon to pace about the earth and he would let his light fall gently on him in such a way as to soon render him to a shadow.

And thus began the phases of the Moon.  Every alternate fortnight, the Moon shone its brightest alongside the Lotus, and waned as the Lotus began to wither. And the day the Lotus greeted her death, the Moon was completely reduced to a shadow by the Sun, who did not lend any light to him, annihilating its existence for only a night. And when the new bud emerged, the Moon began to wax again, and both bloomed only to disappear from the face of the earth every month.

And ever since, the grave and ever-still Ocean, moved by this transcendental  Love, rose in tides alongside the Moonlight, sympathising with the star-crossed lovers. Her tides lap and dance higher as the Moon grows, and she is quietest on the ill-fated night when the two lovers mourn their everlasting distance, and their loss of each other, as they gradually fade away in eternal longing. 

© NG

Diary

I miss you a lot. Nights are the hardest. You're here and its so hard to let go. I cant get over this feeling of loneliness that wraps around me like a cold blanket, sending shivers down my body, all night long. I cant get over how I'm losing you, with every passing day, because clearly all is not lost till this heart stops and starts.

You invade my mind, like only you do, and you are the emptiness in my chest, just like you were the warm fuzzy feeling inside. And now tears flow incessantly and you cannot make them stop, even though you could tickle me from far far away which no one else ever could.

I'm in love, and it is hurting so much, I wish I could stop feeling, if only for a minute. I can't sleep because I'm afraid, not about what I'll dream of, for the content of that is pre-decided, but because eventually I'll be waking up and realising it were a dream.

I try, and try, to go back and do things right, but I end up just the same, at the very same place. I am sweating. I've never been so scared in my life. Never this much. 

Coming Home.

Come Home, He said to me.

Well, I can't. I had to keep on walking, and then I found myself somewhere, and they all told me this is your home and I said, so be it. Its not the one I had in mind, but it is as real as real can be.

Of course, that home was warmer, prettier and livelier. It was full of my laughter tinkling through the hallway, and the smell of tea brewing in the kitchen. Light passed through the tall glasses and made shadows over my paintings. Fairy lights burnt in green bottles and the sky-blue curtains fluttered in the breeze. And he sat in the centre of my universe, writing something lyrical.

But I could never set a foot in that house. It took so long to find that place, only to find I would not be entering it. After all, I was always knocking at the wrong time. Either too early, or way too late.
Sometimes I would go there in the dark of the night, drunken, banging at the door, and sometimes I would find myself loitering there, unconsciously, during the afternoons, and then again, sometimes I was there, dead sober and serious, in my dreams.

I always had to go back, At times clad with embarrassment due to my incessant knocking, at times afraid, disturbed, as to will I be ever let in, and mostly dejected and miserable because I was not on time, and the sun had gone down. I used to run towards it, panting, and I also used to drag myself there hopelessly,but the door was always closed. Sometimes I swear I saw him by the window, watching me, and sometimes I just missed him as he bolted the door behind him.

And then I learnt to walk in the other direction, as far as my feet could take me, always looking back behind my shoulder, but still walking. I forbade myself to sleep lest I may dream, and I put my feet in chains whenever I did halt, so that my subconscious would not get the better of me. And all this time I did not realise that the gates had been open only as soon as I left.

And yet, that Home will always be mine, only mine, because when you open it there won't be all those things I told you about, nor me and my laughter, nor him and his ease. It will be some other place you'll find there. Only I can return to it and find it exactly how I describe it, and even if I could never really enter it, the possibility always remains.

Southern Sambhar @ my Kitchen

Quick and Easy Sambhar Recipe for 2-4 people (sans market Sambhar masala)

Put washed Toor Dal (Arhar) in a pressure cooker.

Add chopped onions (2) Tomatoes (2)  and whatever veggies you want- usually people add drumsticks (2), okra (4), carrot (2) and bottle guard (1/4), but I add whatever is lying around- even capsicum(2).

Add hot water and close the lid- let the whistle go for 5-6 times. Boiling both Dal and Veggies together saves time and also preserves the nutrients of the vegetables.

In another pan, heat oil. crackle the mustard seeds first, then add the fenugreek seeds (if you like the taste, or just add 2-3), chopped garlic, whole red chilies (if you don't have them add red chilli powder and some green chillies), asafoetida and curry leaves(try not to skip these).

Fry till the red chilies change color. Add turmeric powder, garam masala and one chopped onion. Fry till onions and garlic are golden brown, and then set aside.

In the same pan, now heat oil, crackle Cumin Seeds (Jeera), coriander seeds (or powder), few Black Pepper corns (Kalimirchi) and a heaped teaspoon of dessicated coconut (gari).

Fry a little and set aside.

After the steam of the pressure pan goes out, add salt, a pinch of Aamchur and both the fried mixtures, and close the lid for about 5-6 minutes, so that the flavours infuse. Then as per the consistency of your dal, add water and simmer the sambhar on low flame for 5 - 10 minutes.

Serve Hot with rice, or Idlis. For Dosas, make it spicier and more watery.

Here's how my Sambhar looked like: 

Ageing alongside you.

I was running 21 and ran around the table till you’d catch me

and put me over your shoulder and take me to the bed.

And make love like one possessed.

I was 26 and made you carry me everywhere

from the kitchen, to the kitchen-garden

I outran our little girl for the piggyback ride

and swayed my hair on your face, side to side

And when I was 34, you'd wanted me more than ever, only softly.

my invitations became subtler and so did your signs

we shifted from beer and whiskey, to plum red wines.

When I turned 40, I made so much fuss

I was fading and everyday saw signs I did dread

but your lap was still my abode,

where I rested my little weary head.

And when I was 52, it was much that you always hugged me tight

and kissed me sweet, at times even silly, every single night

You were 60 and we were fighting our constrains

but we spent much more time together than we ever did before

we'd boldly go out, some days were a whirl

and you'd still tell everyone that "she's my girl"

I am 65 and you still hold my umbrella and my hand.

and you kept the promise, to stand

forever, by my side

but there is one more thing I ask for us

and I wish it on every penny and dime

together, there should be another lifetime.

This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say.
I don't plan it.
When I'm outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.

Hard Times.