Yours truly, Avakaya

I know you’re smiling at the title. I also know that you’re drooling at the mention of my name. Such unconditional love makes me all emotional sometimes but I wouldn’t shed happy tears to not spoil the taste for you. Instead I will simply continue to please your senses and enjoy this bliss like a king.

Mixing of the spices with mangoes.

Mixing of the spices with mangoes.

You are the one who gave birth to me. You picked the choicest mangoes from town, cut them as diamonds and mixed them with spices in measures. Thus I was born. You gave me a new home in those tall porcelain jars and I moved in to your house. Or your kitchen to be precise. Our relationship this way has been continuing for centuries together.

Jaadi (porcelain jars) for storing pickles.

Jaadi (porcelain jars) for storing pickles.

I sometimes wonder if I can cater adequately to your spice lusts but your pleased faces and happy tummies fuel me. Best of all is that each of you love me in your own way. Let me explain how.

  • A typical grandma loves to mix me with hot rice and add ghee. She lovingly serves it to the kids leaving them clueless wondering whether the taste is because of the hand that is serving or the food in the plate.
  • A young lad loves to have me with dosa/idli/puri because I am the safest and next tastiest resort when there is no chutney at home.
  • A smart mom loves to cajole her kids into eating greens and lentils with a pinch of me on the side of the plate.
  • A lazy bachelor loves to have me with rice or maggi without having to cook other sides.
  • Believe it or not, I am also taken with pizzas and pastas sometimes thus adding the Indian touch to Italian pride. You may want to talk to the owner of this blog to find out more.

Your love for me is not limited to the four dining room walls. You proudly share it to relatives and friends and also take a taste of their handmades. You send me across seas to serve your progenies and I am proud to say that there is no NRI suitcase which doesn’t include me packed and sealed.

I sit in the plane and go whee! source:

Not to forget, you have given me a cult status in your gult movie by saying- “Amma, Avakay, Anjali eppudu bore kottavu. ” I cannot tell you how much it means to me. It is this admiration which keeps me going though I’m (in) a pickle!

I thus speak on behalf of all my cousins – maagaya, thokku avakaya, bellam avakaya, dosa avakaya and usiri avakaya- Thank you!

See you in your next meal.


Of Solitude

Solitude, according to wordweb, is a state of social isolation. What my little brain tells me of this is – To be solitary, one has to log off FB/Twitter accounts, look for a place where there is no second person and should indulge in something for self.  This ideally should mean that solitude is a state of body and not of soul. Right? Wrong!

Physically being away from people is not exactly solitude. Possibly it just means that one is lonely.  And such lonely thinkers are very much prone to ugly thoughts which have the knack of opening a gift present packed with “depression” without their knowledge.

Some examples:

  • Unreasonable questions:

aavu goda meedaki ekki akkada peda ela vesindantav?

Pic says it all.  The moment such a question strikes is the moment in which you’ve stepped on a landmine. Congratulations, until you know the answer you cannot budge.

  •  Spooks that can scare the hell out of you.


I don’t generally believe in ghosts  but when I’m alone or it is dark outside, I do.

My honest advice is to master at least one religious prayer based on your trusts. Or if it is beyond you, you may  want to ponder mythologies or myths in them. For example, what ornaments Sita must have been wearing during their exile for her to throw them down to ground?

  •  Why relationships can be disastrous some times

The most useless discussions one can have with self are about relationships.  And quite dangerous too. Because they affect the self-esteem of the thinker. When alone, some people become extremely critical about their partners and eventually end up reaching the summit of self-love. Some others keep blaming themselves for being bad judges and bad decision makers thus belittling and hating themselves.

  • “What-if”

The dreadful question that is proven to have ruined happiness of several curious-but-not-risk-taking souls. Wondering what is on the road not taken is not probably wrong. But assuming it is ALWAYS brighter will only ruin the peace of mind. And will certainly make the current place seem dark.

  • How to change the world.

With due respects to all the people who really brought some change to the world after solitary contemplations, I feel it is very likely for one to get lost in this thought process. One of the reasons for this could be:

IMO, this kind of  isolation does more bad than good to anyone.  The best way to enjoy solitude is to keep the negative thoughts away and have at least one of your senses engaged. Touch the bed, sleep in the bliss. Eat your favorite item, devour the blissful taste. Listen to your favorite music, enjoy the blissful tunes. Read a good book or go visit a nice place, look out for the bliss in them. Smell the rain,  smell the aroma of filter coffee in your hand and enjoy your solitude- it’s a bliss!

A labour ward


(Wholly inspired by a friend’s article)

“Aren’t you excited?” Deepthi asked me as I was putting on the white coat with no much interest on my face. Genuinely I was not excited. I was plain scared. I know it is a miracle that a living being is born, fed and safely guarded inside the mother’s flesh for  nine months and it is this miracle that keeps the generations alive. But the delivery of her baby is definitely the most traumatic test a lady can ever take.

The OBG(Obstetrics and Gynecology) posting for the year started that day and I had to observe deliveries as part of my learning. Deepthi’s enthusiasm made me feel like a sissy and I entered into the much dreaded labor room with my hand clutching hers. The doctor was gently patting on the patient’s legs and yelling at the top of her voice to push the baby out. The patient was a young woman probably in her late twenties and was writhing in pain with loud screams. The screams and yells started roaring in my ears and at a point I felt my heart beat was much louder than them.

“Look the baby is coming out!” One of our classmates noticed it first. The doctor’s face lit up at its sight and she told us that it is called the crowning of the head. Each of us was asked to come forward and take a glimpse of the miracle. Deepthi finished her turn and took my hand in hers. I leaned forward deciding that I would just peek. I saw a small blood covered head that was struggling to come out. Suddenly I felt the whole room was turning upside down and I realized it was nausea.

“Take a deep breath. Relax and try again.” Deepthi whispered in my ears and I followed her. I leaned again and one of our classmates pulled me back. The last words I could hear were “Take her out of this room.” I was taken to the rest room where I threw up in the sink at every recall of the little head. Tears gushed out from my eyes and I started wailing.

“Hey, its alright. You’d be okay. You’d be a good doctor.” Deepthi comforted me with her hands on my shoulder.

I firmly decided that I wanted to be a good doctor so I pledged to myself that I wouldn’t panic again. We went back to the labor room and saw that it was not yet complete. I did not blink my eyes and whatever I saw left all weird thoughts in my mind. “Isn’t it human to pass a law that child births should be banned and adoptions be encouraged? If this how a baby is brought to this earth, how can one even think of hurting/assaulting it? Those who do infanticide should be made to deliver ten females as the penalty. How do some women deliver twins and triplets when it is so difficult to get one come out? How and Why did God get the size proportions so wrong? The baby is never going to come out. ”

The baby was almost pulled out or rather pushed out and the jubilant look on the doctor’s face confirmed that whatever has happened was not a conspiracy against woman kind. She cut the placenta and handed over the baby to one of the attendants who took it away to some other room.  Soon we dispersed from the labor ward and I called up my mom to tell her that I had successfully survived watching an obstetrical delivery for the first time.

“How was it?”

“I still cannot believe that I did not get a syncope.”

“(Chuckles) Do you remember that your grandmother bore thirteen children that way?” she reminded.

“We should build a temple in her name.” I said and I meant that. I heard my mother laugh aloud and I suddenly felt I was missing her at that moment.

“Mumma..I love you.”  I said wholeheartedly.

She smiled again and said “Love you too.” I hung up and brushed aside the tear that rolled down on my cheek.


Now watching- Mr.Pellam

The plot of this movie is the simplest anyone can think of. Swapping of roles between wifey and husband. Which is actually sensible unlike the telephone exchange advt of Idea cellular mobile (thu!). Talk about a middle class family in which husband is the bread earner and the wife is a home maker. Kindly note that the term “home-maker” was not used to escape from the sandals which will rain if I say “house-wife”. The wife  here is a real home-maker. Due to unavoidable event turns, the swapping of roles happens and the real show starts.


Aamani as Jhansi is not only pretty (doesn’t need my testimony. She is Baapu’s heroine) but also great as a wife and mother. Probably


what wins is the way her role is etched. Negatives first:  Jhansi feels bad that her husband doesn’t shower the same love which he did before their wedding. She gets enraged when he doesn’t treat her like his equal and so she instantly lies about her compensation when he makes fun of her. She wants to get her husband out of his trouble and unknowingly she hurts his ego in the process. There is a friend (Gopal) who she confides in for this and seeks his help to make up for the loss. The most common traits of women (IMO) are that we seek respect along with love, we keep comparing past to the present and there has to be at least one close friend who is their crying pillow and moral support. On the bright side, Jhansi as a wife is desirable. She is pretty, well read, extremely loving and loyal.


Playing the husband’s role must have been a cake walk for Dr.Rajendra Prasad given his acting skills. He is one of our few actors who doesn’t have a hate-club. The husband in the film might seem chauvinistic but he cannot be blamed. Though he is egoistic, he is also very affectionate and knows when and how to apologize.  Like most men, he is possessive about his wife and the scenes that ensue are supremely cute. He cannot recollect the correct name of Gopal though he can never get him off his mind 🙂  The scenes in which he congratulates Jhansi on her job and the one in which admires that she had treasured all the letters he sent her deserve a special mention.

Baapu-Ramana are nothing less than a boon to TFI. I need not explain why. The humor in the movie is  laughs-earning not because of Brahmanandam who always gets slapped/fooled by the hero (there is no Brahmanandam in this film. Sorry folks!). It is also not because of some cheap dialogues which indirectly imply some perversion. It is because the dialogues are witty and sarcastic.  More importantly, they go with the flow.

For example:

source: teluguone

Neighbor:కాస్త కందిపప్పు ఉంటె అప్పిప్పించవూ..

RJP: ఇప్పిప్పించను.

Neighbor: ఇదే మా అమ్మడైతే కప్పులో కప్పుడిచ్చి గుప్పెట్లో గుప్పుడిచ్చేది.

Also the way RJP trolls AVS on Krishnashtami can never be forgotten. After all, అతలు కృష్ణాష్టమి అంటే కిట్టుడి బడ్డే.

Keeravani, who if you noticed or failed to notice, can give the most apt back ground music  to any scene. The songs in Mr.pellam are melodious and rightly placed if not the best. The famous Krishnashtami song is my most favorite one of the five. The word play relating Krishna’s pranks to Gopal’s actions is very cleverly done.

There are scenes in tens which bring a natural smile on viewer’s face and I think that is what makes this movie a delight to watch. My eyes bled when I saw a trailer in which they tried to imitate Pelli pustakam’s title song. I am only praying that some classics are left as-is. Mr.pellam is one such untouchable. Not because it is great, it is right. Just right.

Friendship and such

“No Telugu in school premises. Fine of Rs.1 if you’re caught speaking Telugu.”

Rs.1 might seem like a joke looking at the current status of Indian Rupee. But it was everything for us in our school days.  It got us Pepsi from a local pan shop, Guava on the bandi outside school gate and also cloud9 (creamy chocolate that is extinct now) from school canteen. I was always careful to save my rupee (can also be read as honor) but sometimes I had to donate it to the school fund. PS: It is rumored that our school opened its sister concerns with the same money.

Apart from the fine, reporting names of rule breakers was considered an achievement. While the punished pupil had a tough time facing the lecture by Preeti miss, the remaining class used to LOL at him/her secretly thanking God for the narrow escape. I always used to react based on the circle we both shared (the one punished and myself). That was way before Google introduced circles. I am such a visionary I tell you.


In one such bad situation, I had an encounter with the worst badass of our class. Let’s call him Sam to make it easy. All near and dear friends know how engrossed in talking I am when it comes to tittle-tattles. Tsunami or call from the principal’s office or such heavenly disasters can only divert my attention. Only after my zeal for knowing the latest gossip was satisfied, I noticed that Sam was eavesdropping on our conversation all that while.

I was enraged for obvious reasons:

  1. Sam caught me talking in Telugu.
  2. I had a tiff with him the very previous week. I wrote his name on the black board for making noise during leisure hours. He was made to run around the foot ball ground thrice for that. His every glance seemed like a death threat from that day.
  3. Sam towered about 5’10 in those days and I always had to tilt my head 45′ N to look into his eyes.  I think I am the only blessed one to see a hulk in real life.
  4. Again, why the hell did it have to be SAM of all people?

So the ruckus began.

Sam: “Ei you were talking in Telugu to Sruthi no?”

Me: “No.” (in Manmadhudu style)

source: manmadhudu

source: manmadhudu

Sam: “I heard were talking. I will tell to Preeti miss wait.”

Me: “Go tell.” ( The very first rule when you do something wrong is to be brave and not panic.)

P.M: “Anu, were you talking in Telugu?”

Me: “No miss. ”

P.M: “Then why did Sam report your name?” (Poor teacher fell into my trap. I was waiting for this question.)

Me: “Last time I wrote his name on board no, so he is taking revenge.”  (Not even an iota of guilt in my voice)

Sam:” No miss ..Mother dead promise, I heard.”

Me: “Believe me miss. I was not talking.” (Promises can only be countered with tears. So sniffing for the good girl effect)

Sam: “You also put promise.”

Me: “I won’t put.”

Sam: “See miss..She is not putting. That means she is lying. Liar!”

Me: “You only liar. Your father only liar. Your mother also liar. Your whole family is liars family.”

P.M: “Enough! Stop calling names. And don’t fight like this. Say friends and shake hands.”

I wanted to push Sam off the second floor that minute and Preeti miss was asking me to be friends with him.

Me: “You say first.”

Sam: “No, You only say.”

Me: “No, I won’t say.”

Sam: “Girls first” (If anybody says that now, I will kick him first and say “you asked for it”)

P.M: “Come on Anu..Does it even matter?”

Me (Grumpy tone): “Hmmmph.. Okay friends?”


The end.

Last month or the month before that, Sam added me on Facebook. Thus leaving an electronic proof that he said “Friends?” first.

Gentlemen, God is watching all your actions. Thus proved.

My Smartapps

Miss.Raman tagged me in her post. So here’s my two cents.

It is not necessary to be smart to buy a smart phone. And also to use one. This is probably why smart phones’ invasion to market was a great welcome to everyone. Dear reader, please buy yourself a smart phone if you don’t have one (Please consider the ones with Snapdragon 😛 ). Otherwise you will want to kill yourself when you see your 10-year-old cousin using Cricbuzz app. I saved my honor by buying a Nexus4 and these are the apps I use the most.

Hindi-Tamil-Telugu songs: To download latest/not-so-latest/big hits/classics mp3 FREE. I know there are many such apps in play store but this one is the best among all to my experience. Downloads are pretty fast and songs come with nice album art (if you are a lover like me) but wait, what will surprise you is the collection. “Pellikoduku ammabadunu” and ” Prema pichchi” in the list freaked me out. There is an exhaustive devotional songs section and also one old hits section which has picked songs from late 80’s and 90’s. The only drawback is the cap on the downloads, but who cares?

Twitter: I don’t tweet much, I am only trying to be regular. One day one sad follower sent me a PM saying please post something other than links to your blog. I was moved (read it as ashamed). Having said all this,  I am pretty much regular in reading and replying to tweets. The only way I keep a track of the outside world is through tweets. If 140 chars aren’t clear enough, I simply search for the article in Newshunt.

Newshunt: I do have google currents on phone but I am pretty loyal to Newshunt. Reading local newspaper on Newshunt is a perfect time pass when standing in any queue. The layout is sometimes disturbed but nevertheless this app is bettering everyday.

ESFile explorer:  Needs no introduction at all. I love it because it allows me to access remote files at ease. Built in RAR and ZIP facilities is an added advantage.

Cut the rope: I installed cut-the-rope much before Temple run. Because I do not (cannot) play temple run. The game is all about feeding candies to a cute little monster by cutting the ropes attached. Spiders and high tension ropes are seen every now and then. You have to give it to the graphics of this game. It is visually very impressive. “Cut-the-rope”  is highly addictive once you start playing and I highly recommend not to play it when your friend who knows how to pinch you is around (rubs on the shoulder).

Seven words: Probably the only word game that is as interesting as Words with friends.  Miss.Raman calls it easy but I haven’t even been half way through. A recent addiction is the logo quiz which is a better version of that which Playfish featured sometime ago.

Soundcloud: Soundcloud is a BGM bank for me. I religiously follow two users who upload ripped back ground music of Hin/Tel/Eng movies. Some of them even upload the karaoke versions of hit songs and covers by some famous artists. What else do I need as a music lover?

Instagram, Flickr and Whatsapp are my other must-haves though I don’t use them often. What are yours?

All I need is…

Sometimes I just need a shoulder to cry over. That shoulder which puts an arm across and pats saying “You’ll be alright”.

Sometimes it is just two legs which walk along. They do not care where I’m going, they just come along to give a feeling that I am not alone.

Sometimes it is the hand which is let across for me to hold. First thing I ever want to do when in trouble is hold someone’s hand. Something which we were taught ever since we came to this world.

Sometimes it is the ear which is always open to all the nonsense I talk. An ear which doesn’t judge my stupidity.

Sometimes  just the eyes which do all the talking. World’s best feelings are not said aloud, they are shown in eyes. Love, anger, gratitude or whatsoever it might be.

Sometimes it is two lips which say a lot of words that complement the inner feelings. It is amazing to hear the words come from someone’s mouth.

I was asked to choose one for the rest of my life and I chose to win the heart to whom I do not mind losing.



After all, none of the above is worth looking for if it is coming from a heartless being. So dear fellow, If you really love/admire/worship/hate/despise someone, let it be heartfelt. Just heartfelt. The only thing you can do to cross the skies and reach that someone.