Category Archives: London

New Filled With Nostalgia

2025 brought lots of newness into our life. One of which was moving into our new home, in a new area of London, and adopting a fully suburban life.

The landscape of this area is characteristically hilly, and there are leafy residential roads all around. Our house is located near the top of one of the hills, and the drive home overlooks a valley full of oaks & beeches, dotted with many good-looking houses that have generous rear gardens and deep driveways. We often go down a slope and climb up another just to meet local friends! The views from upper-floor windows of most houses must be spectacular no matter the direction. Naturally, it’s been a big change from what we were used to seeing around us for over two decades – tall apartment buildings, taller offices, hustle-bustle of people, noise of cars & sirens, and just the busyness of a city life. And to suddenly have birds chirp at me in the mornings, squirrels come in to say hello or have a neighbourhood fox visit our garden – it’s a huge visual adjustment that we hadn’t fully anticipated, honestly!

That said, the biggest change of the past year has been to get our son to start nursery. And this adjustment was an emotional rollercoaster. The timing of it couldn’t have been any more challenging and overwhelming. We got him to start roughly two weeks after we moved in to the new place. It is heartbreaking no matter the age they start nursery at, and no amount of preparation can stop the tears on day 1 (or 2 or 3…).

Well, it was tough I won’t lie. I will borrow the famous words of Michael Rosen (author of the book We Are Going on a Bear Hunt): “We can’t go over it. We can’t go under it. Oh no! We’ve got to go through it!” to say, we have somewhat got through the tough part, I think. Maybe.

A part of the whole nursery drop-off / pick-up experience was (still is) doing the up-down on the slopes around here. His nursery is located down the hill from us; most times it’s a car ride doing the work but sometimes it is a walk too. It’s a steep gradient for a kid to walk, and so far he’s shown no qualms about it – he enjoys the slow walk every few days, notices the new flowers and changing colours of leaves on the way, picks up small stones for his ongoing collection and mostly talks about which route he’d prefer to take on his way back (because let’s be honest, coming back home is the most exciting part about going to nursery after all).

And so, besides the visual and emotional adjustments, there was this aspect of a physical adjustment with this new place. The walk to-fro train station is roughly 18mins now, along a slope-y road; the nursery-runs offer a good cardio on a 15-degree incline every few days; and of course the visits to the parks & huge playgrounds add to the joy of movement with an active 3yo in tow.

All of this brings me to a conversation with Amma, one evening, when I was discussing (ok, sighing!) about how this new life is so new in so many ways. And she was rather surprised when I explained all of the above towards what I meant by “new”. She smiled, and said, to the contrary, all this reminded her entirely of how and where I spent the first few years of my life!

And just like that, scenes from my childhood played slowly in front of my eyes like a film on a reel.

We lived in this little township in the interiors of an eastern state in India. The place sat in the lap of the dense & hilly Saranda Forest that covers the regional belt, rich in iron ore and other minerals. Our surroundings were made up of tall Sal trees, and others like Mahua and Jamun. I used to cross a hillock to go school every day, because taking the ‘pukka’ road meant a longer but boring walk. Going up and down the township slopes was how we kids played, in fact it was how we went anywhere at all – be it to the shops or friends’ homes. Elephants were a common sighting given the jungles were near by, but foxes at night were a common, albeit scary, sight too!

With a sudden rush of emotions, I realised all this newness around me had been washed over with paints of utter nostalgia! I was also marvelling at my own forgetfulness of how I never put this together myself. I should have seen the similarities. I lived in those hills once as a carefree kid, and now perhaps as a mum I was too close, too occupied, and too lost in my world, scrambling from one day to another, to really see any of it.

It definitely felt like a full circle moment – to be building a life in a little corner of London that resembles a life I led over three decades ago in another part of the world!

So, this is what I want to leave you with – my twopence worth: sometimes we need to zoom out a little to be able to make sense of the patterns (we are making) that are impossible to see when we’re standing too close. And the process might bring what truly matters back into focus: that life is often less about finding new answers and more about rediscovering the ones we’ve been carrying with us all along.

Can Waiting Be Fun? Yes!

After a rather long and tiring day at work, waiting at the train station to catch the final connection home can add to the misery. But, here’s how I made it fun last evening! Carrying my stash of stationery came to the rescue and those minutes clocked away so fast, I felt I got home instantly – just like you see it here!

 

 

 

Indian Food For Thought

I have never been a foodie in my life. That’s not a great way to start a blog post titled Food, but it is true! For the longest time, food has simply been the fuel I needed to do all the other things I love doing. That translates to how bad a guest I become when I am invited for dinner parties. While trying to pick a restaurant, I tend to go towards a narrow set of familiar tastes, which is usually Indian; sometimes Italian or Mexican cuisines come a close second.

So, when my husband and I moved to London, newly into our marital life, I thought cooking was going to become a similar mundane activity like eating. I had only just started cooking full meals so it felt cumbersome, and I carried certain pre-conceived notions like making time to cook after work in the evenings will be tougher or that weekends would often be a break from cooking all week! Turns out, I was completely wrong.

I have been cooking Indian food at home for over two and a half years now. And each day has been a revelation! I’ve started to look at food differently now, perhaps almost lovingly observe as all the little things weave together to become on single dish. The sheer number of spices that go into certain recipes, the rich and light ingredients alike, the varied flavours they bring out and oh, the variety in colours; Indian food I think is no less than an artist’s delight!

I stand with my ‘masala box‘ that is the palette of my base colours, in front of the canvas that is my heated wok (or kadhai as we know it!). I always have some additional richer spices in various forms – some ground, some as a paste, some simply hand-cut into pieces. An excitement seeps in looking at my stock! I begin with tempering the oil, slowly add layers with finely chopped pink onions, diced red tomatoes, green peppers & white button mushrooms. The rich spices bring texture to the dish, and I notice the hues changing, from light pink to creamy orange to sienna. As the aroma fills up my senses, the final strokes are that of garnishing with freshly cut greens or a dollop of home made butter. Doesn’t that feel like being in a painter’s workshop, after all? Only here you can actually taste the painting!

As I mentioned earlier, the sheer joy I have felt while cooking is when these spices, so characteristically different from the one another, come together as one; it seemed random at first to a beginner like me but I realised there is a Method to this Madness! There is science backing certain combinations of ingredients & spices, which when cooked together enhance each other’s qualities, bring out their flavours better and sometimes go on to make the dish healthier too! Read this article recently published on Washington Post and there are many on the World Wide Web if you google.

This is not specific to Indian cuisine, but cooking, in general, is an activity that brings the family together, and closer. “Peel these potatoes while I grind garlic and onions”, or “roast coriander seeds with dry red chillies and some cumin”, or “knead the dough as I clean the greens” are some common assignments in the kitchen when our families visit us! And, when it is just the two of us here, we ensure we cook dinner together – every night.

Truth be told, my affinity towards food has certainly increased manifold since I started cooking at home. I am more comfortable experimenting with food in my kitchen, even if it is within the realms of Indian cuisine. In fact, after a hard day’s work, cooking together is our favourite way to unwind!

I guess my point here is I couldn’t be more grateful for having picked up the ladle & spatula, despite my initial apprehensions and notions, to give cooking an honest try! Selfishly, I couldn’t be happier it is the Indian recipes that came my rescue. Oh, I am still not a foodie but I sure am learning to cater well to that category! And, that is far more rewarding sometimes.

On a closing note, enjoy a dollop of these wonderful quotes I collected about cooking, and eating!

“You don’t have to cook fancy or complicated masterpieces – just good food from fresh ingredients.” ~ Julia Child

“Cooking food and shopping for food brings rhythm and meaning to our lives!” ~ Alice Waters

“I love that after a day when nothing is sure… you can come home and absolutely know that if you add eggs yolks to chocolate and sugar and milk, it will get thick. It’s such a comfort.” ~ Julie Powell

“Eating is a necessity, but Cooking is an art.” ~ Anonymous

Featured photo above: a street market selling Indian spices, just look at those bright colours!

What’s New This Summer?

Summers are a promise of activity, cheer and adventure. It is that beautiful time of the year when everything around us is in full bloom – be it the gardens, or the massive sales in the mall. As the bright sunshine sprawls all around, refrigerators are stocked with bottles of juices, ciders and white wines. All the parks look greener than ever before, and are dotted with people soaking up the sun, walking their dogs, or just playing with kids – the colourful sights we don’t get tired of! Picnics with friends and prolonged outdoorsy evenings crawl back into our routine; all those stylish dresses, skirts and tops make a much awaited come back and suddenly, days seem so full of possibility! I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I said people seem happier in summer – they actually are!

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August sun shining on Lake Windermere!

That’s how the last three English summers have been for me. And, in all honesty, all of this wonderfulness lasts about two weeks every year. Maybe three, if you can put up with the downpour during the third week, without a scowl.

In my tropical mind, it is not summer if I am wearing a coat to work, or walking to Waitrose with my umbrella receiving some pitter-patter! Unless I spend at least two months sweating it out, drinking copious amounts of Rooh Afza and gulping down scores of mango pieces after every meal, it does not qualify as a well-lived summer. As a kid, the summer season was synonymous with vacation time with family, and that meant long train journeys to Granny’s towns. Splitting our time between the paternal and maternal sides of my family, these vacations were all about reconnecting with parts of me scattered in many places, within the lives of so many. The emphasis also used to be on learning something new each year. From learning to sow, to making own paper envelopes, to writing letters, to learning to recite morning prayers in Sanskrit, to mastering the game of Brainvita and Solitaire! A new skill, something exciting, and spending time with people to create fond memories of, perhaps to look back upon on a day like this.

I am sitting in my balcony having the last bite of what was a delicious Coffee & Walnut flavoured cake that I bought from Waitrose. I almost want to keep this post aside and look for its exact recipe online – it was that yum! A light breeze ruffles my hair, and I get back to thinking about summers in India. While I don’t particularly miss the scorching heat that envelopes my country during these months, I have definitely missed doing something new, as the season swung by year after year.

So, this summer I decided to bring into our home six little and lovely living beings. (That’s how my brother framed their arrival!). Having never been an animal lover, I inclined myself towards flora and picked some hardy flowering plants (from http://www.PatchPlants.com – check it out if you’re looking for a great service to plants in London!), an ornamental citrus fruit tree and to give my English home a touch of traditional India, a pot of basil leaves too! I wish I had a huge courtyard to place it in the middle of, but I make do with our 7th floor balcony for now.

It feels good! To stand in the sun with them, smiling and happy. Just how India Knight put it, ‘when the sun is out, it’s the smallest adventures that can bring the greatest pleasure.’

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Osteospermums pose for a happy picture!

 

 

A Friday Afternoon

2:00pm on a Friday : I stifle a yawn as I stare at my to-do list on the table, clearly indicating my interest in those items. I try to shield my eyes from that bright yellow post-it pad and look at the distant sight outside the window. The cloud cover and tiny droplets on the panes tempt me further to pull out the book I’m carrying in my bag, and dare into a mid-day slumber on my rather comfortable recliner!

I see two colleagues pass by, murmuring at the printed sheets in their hands, and about ‘GeniusIT’ not producing the right numbers. I recognise one of them and we exchange customary smiles. I chuckle inside my head at the ironic name we’ve chosen for a system that is unable to produce what we want! Perhaps calling it ‘GuessIt’ is better suited, at least if not the numbers, it will stand true to its name. I smirk at my own joke, before regaining composure, and decide to get back to my excel sheets.

A few minutes later, I look at the light drizzle outside the window again. Small droplets begin to slide against the panes. I smile to myself thinking, London won’t remain the same if it doesn’t drizzle as lightly as is naturally possible, at least once a day! And, it can prove to be some fun when you don’t have to rush somewhere. I lightly stretch and stare at the changing shapes of the clouds. Locking my computer screen, I rummage for my tiny umbrella in the bag and make my way to the door in quick steps. Crossing the turnstile downstairs, I smile at the familiar face of our security guard. ‘Have a good weekend!’, he politely wishes as I spring open my umbrella and turn left outside the big glass doors. The small raindrops begin to pitter-patter on my umbrella, and my mind begins to play names like from a reel, of cafes and coffee shops that I may stop by a little later. I ask myself to slow down, and to not think so far ahead already. I breathe in deeply and blink a few times trying to be present in this moment. Among the raindrops, on the wet cemented ground, in the wet shoes and with the cool breeze that is enveloping me.

I cross the square and take to the sidewalk. I begin to enjoy the drizzle, that’s become a tad heavier than before. I see a number of black cabs zoom past. I follow the curve of the road, into the narrow alleys between tall office buildings. There are colourful umbrellas everywhere. I step into the archway that lines a large number of small and lovely take-out joints – salad bars, Thai, Indian, and Mexican take-aways, soups and sandwich joints, you name it. Most of them seem to be wrapping up, and closing for the day already. I take the tiny corridor that opens the archway onto the road perpendicular, joining the main street. Traffic here is heavy, but orderly still for a Friday afternoon. I cross the street at the signal and take to the sidewalk at the other end.

Walking on the main streets in central London can sometimes feel like a quick time-travelling exercise. Each corner turns into a different landscape, a different era. The Victorian church-spires and cathedral domes stand tall among the new glass skyscrapers and high-rises. London’s architecture and skyline are perhaps a testimony to how we can adapt to changing times while retaining some of our old self intact, within. Deep in thought, I stand at a corner and capture the views into my phone-camera. I decide to take sepia prints of it later, when I get home.

The drizzle has finally taken a pause. I walk some more, and wonder if the sun will show up. The forecast says clear weather for the rest of the evening. Wanting some tea now, I google the nearest cafe and make my way there. It’s abuzz with people but not crowded, thankfully. I order a chai-latte and pick a corner seat. I finally pull out the book I carried in my bag all week in the hope of catching a read, lay it on the table; mix some sugar into my tea and settle in for a cozy time. The light music they are playing in the cafe adds to the mood and I begin to tap my fingers on the table.

Tip-tap, tip-tap-tap, tip-tip-tap, tip-tap-tip-tip-tap-tap… when I suddenly hear ‘Ramya, can you help me with something?’. I recognise the voice but I find it tough to place it here. And, I hear my name being called out again. I look to my right and it’s my intern, looking at me possibly as quizzically as I am looking at her right now. I sit up quickly and look around, look down at my hands on the table and it dawns upon me. Taking my face into my hands, I burst into a laughter and look up to say ‘Hi!’ to my intern again. She smiles but from the way she is looking at me, she probably thinks I am part-crazy. Or, fully maybe!

After I help her with the query, I glance at my watch. 2:25pm, on the same Friday afternoon. How easily the mind wanders, I think to myself. How our mind weaves reality with wishful thinking and paints the picture we want to be a part of, within minutes! And, that’s the brilliance of the power of imagination.

I drop a text to my husband soon afterwards, ‘Meet me at the stairs outside your office building. We are going for a walk in the city this evening!’.

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