But in the spirit of complete honesty, I might as well admit that it may have something to do with the fact that it doesn’t interest me all too much. I am however going to make and effort and learn. And hopefully by the time Christmas rolls up I’ll be able to plate something that can proudly be shared with friends.
It’s been a rainy but lovely weekend. Thoroughly enjoyed a traditional South Indian meal at RV’s little one’s naming ceremony. And even though I hate to admit it, I do seem to shamelessly wait for yele-oota invites from my extremely limited number of herbivorous friends.
In other news, it’s been raining on and off for a couple of months now, and even though I don’t make a big secret of the fact that monsoon is my favourite season, I do wish it would take leave before Diwali and make way for winter.
A brief spell of calm appeared between periods of torrential downpour this evening and I stepped out with my pretty monochrome umbrella to do a bit of grocery shopping. Couldn’t help but wonder at the innate charm of monsoons as I jumped over puddles (grocery bags in tow) like I used to as a school girl. While returning, I even stopped at a little cafe that opened its doors a week ago at the edge of my street for hot cup of masala chai served in true chai waala style. I loved the tea and enjoyed the sound of water lapping against the compound wall as vehicles passed by.