communication solutions

Life is a long, wondrous and continuous introduction to yourself.

The act of creation — it leads me to unknown places. Only to make me realize that all was known, always. And yet, I live every day with the hope that I’ll explore, create and grow into someone new. Because what’s life if not a long, wondrous and continuous introduction to yourself.

In this journey, music lives by my side. I find melody in my writing, and a lot of writing in my melodies. Sometimes, I hear songs in the bubbles of boiling tamarind water. Or in the stroke of red paint over the canvas. Or in the giggles of a child after a good joke. Tunes find their way even into my boredom, curiosity and the thoughts in between. And a rhythm taps into my sorrow, so it can take the leap to laughter.

Such is music. Such is life — yours and mine.



Do you sell food or are you in the business of hospitality? The question is a tricky one if you haven't understood the difference. It's one of those busy and sunny afternoons when i work during the first half waiting for lunch time. The parts of the day which for sure, make me happy. Today, i wanted to have some hot punjabi parathas. Living in one of the southern cities of India, the "punjabi" adjective is over expectation. But there's no bar on wanting something.

I ordered a plate of aaloo-paratha.

(1) There's no achaar :(

So, these people won't tell me before serving that they have run out of pickle. I have a "could-be" nice paratha without anything to go with it. They half-heartedly ask me to give them a minute. In those 60 seconds, they find a little bowl of mint-chutney and as they hand it over to me, it looks like a bowl full of favor.

I find a place to sit and eat as i chat with a friend. Half way through the first paratha, i see a long black thread like structure beneath the layer of flour. Oh freak! This is the easiest way of spoiling my day. A long hair strand to kill not only the food but my apetite.

I am angry. But i go to the "seller". As i show him, he turns towards the lady at the counter. "It has to be yours!"

What? Lady at the counter? Her hair flies over to the kitchen and settles in the dough the chef kneads for the bread. Huh?

The next minute, the chap reluctantly takes the plate inside and comes back after few minutes with a replacement. And this is what happens next :

The ill-developed caretaker of the food joint : "Yeh lijiye. Paratha. WITHOUT BAL.(without hair)!"

Am impressed by your customer care and generous behaviour.

PS : They've lost most of their customers since that day. May be i played a role.

food, generalKavita