While my thoughts were going thru the sorting mill in my mind. I also realized that I can randomly cook-up stories on any subject - from that of general happenings of my life, or based on my perception towards them. And each of them will always have an integral element of me - one I identify myself as. Obviously! isn't it?
Today's topic is about my beloved treat - The Indian charcoal roasted corn 🌽 ! my most cherished monsoon snack. Especially on those evenings which are misty and cold post a heavy rainfall....and streetlights adds a different warmth to the lush green walkways.
Regards to the roasted corn, I can smell them from anywhere no matter how far off and irrespective how full my tummy is, It is always welcomed.
I guess it is something to do with aromatic woodfire smell and how it always gives me a feeling of ease and comfort. Almost as if it helps me in effortless grounding.
After the tiring long commute, back from office, my motivation to continue with the day would be mostly to head straight to the kitchen and prepare some sort of tea or look for something to munch-on or to engage myself with something which can take me off the autopilot mode of a working women...but in a creative expression and for that, there no better place then 'a kitchen'... my kitchen 💖:)
Luckily, I had spared a half piece of sweet corn which I had ordered last weekend (for a bunch of guests). Then what? In absence of charcoal, I got on with roasting it on the CNG gas stove and soon I had my beloved roasted corn! I love to add a generous amount of lemon with chilli powder and salt on the roasted corn or a bit of clarified butter and salt. With watering mouth, already tempted to eat, I sat in my living room and started to slowly pluck one kernel at a time and munch. May be also to see that I do not get over it sooner than I intent to.
The whole process was deeply rewarding and felt as if time has paused. It also took me back to the time when I was 10 - 12 yrs old and my Gandma would be waiting for us (kids) to return home after the school and likewise, she would pluck a few kernel with her tender fingers nails and give them in our tiny palms..more like a temple Prasad. Infact, those handful of kernels would taste sweeter. Probably it was her deep love for us that would add to the flavor of the roasted corns.
I always wondered how was she so patient in the smallest of her gestures. Be it towards her kids, daughter-in-laws, grandkids or husband; her whole being and each action was filled with Love. She sailed thru life with a beautiful grace and poise and as she aged, she turned into a tiny little baby, one who was dearly loved by all. No regrets, no rage, no greed, no compulsions nor any rules...but love. As I write this, there are uncontrollable streams of tears flowing thru my eyes....and I knew that I was reminded of her when I took the first bite of those handful of kernels or may be the very reason why I plucked them 'the way she would', was to feel her through the sweet memory.
Let's stick to the lighter side of the note & corn.. :)
I wonder how bizarre can one go with decision making? Well, I can assure about 'Me'. I recall an episode which may sound untrue and that's ok. Back in ~2010 when I decided to move to my current locality, in the new city, region, culture and language (with no prior experience in transfers), The only deciding factor for me was - finding deep comfort in knowing that there is a hawker who sells 'roasted corn' all thru the year and yes, that is it! I decided I am gonna stick around :D...and am still here :) (but that hawker is no-more:(...
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