Food

The other day I was watching a Food & Travel show hosted by the famous Padma Lakshmi. She was in Udipi and inside a 400 year old kitchen. I googled to know more about this temple which gives free food for all devotees irrespective of caste, color, religion or whatever divisions the world has given to the human being over the years. I could not get more information and the closest find was the Dharmashala and the Krishna temple. Upon searching for Dharmashala, I was delighted to land on GVK’s blog and a blog post that I had missed reading. He has given an account of his visit to the Dharmashala and put up some pictures too for the readers.


To many, Udupi brings to mind the lovely vegetarian “thali”.

We have these restaurants here in Kuwait too, though I am not sure if they are indeed serving authentic “Udipi” meal . But it is only when you eat such a meal do you realize how vegetables can be cooked in a variety of ways and how delicious it is to eat them. I read the following on the Udipi cuisine: This cuisine was developed by Shivalli Madhwa Brahmins who cooked food for Lord Krishna, and at Krishna Matha in Udupi, the food is provided free. I was much intrigued to know that it was the pujaris themselves who cooked these meals and that these meals are given to all and sundry free of cost. Normally none is allowed inside this kitchen but I do know how Padma was given an entry. But it provided a good look inside one of the oldest functioning kitchen in the world and one could see big pots and pans and the poojaris in various stages of cooking. The meal was also served by them and it was done so efficiently. The speed at which the rice and accompaniments were served on the banana leaf to the waiting devotees is awesome. I hear that more than 1000 are fed thus daily. ( I could not get more information on this anywhere and hence I am assuming that this is a daily affair)

The money for this is from the devotees themselves. I am also not sure if there are many such temples which provide free meals. The idea itself is very heart warming. Since India has a long way to go on hunger and poverty, I am hoping that more places of worship catch up on this idea. The closest to this that I have come across in a Church is during special days like Easter, Good Friday etc. But then the food is served only to the devotees.

While thinking about the money that the faithful puts into the coffers of famous pilgrimage centers, would it not do wonders if it was used to feed the needy! After all, isn’t the need of food the most basic and the most important, unless of course you have acquired the skills of the Swamis who claim to eat nothing. And I believe it would be only a few who would continue depending on this since most would eventually stand on their own feet. And it is also a fact that believers of all religion give happily to a Temple/Church/Mosque more readily than to a real person in need. And the sad fact is that we seldom care what happens to this money. Some of us believe ardently that building a Church worth crores is more important than giving the same money to the poor.

But then isn’t it only a wishful thinking? And my dreams of seeing for example the Christian priests cook and serve food to strangers needs to be squashed right away before I am accused of mental illness :)

Source: Wikepedia

My little-bit life - the story of a migrant Indian worker

This is the story of many who toil under the scorching sun...

My little-bit life - the story of a migrant Indian worker


Rajendra K Aneja, Dubai



15 April 2010,





Myself Radhakrishnan Nambiar, from village Pailam, in India. Me, construction worker in Middle East, making very big, tall buildings, in Bahrain, Doha and Riyadh. Some building too much big, 30 floors.

Me getting 600 dirhams per month salary every month, plus six ‘parattas’, every day, for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I also love very much, one girl, Philipa. Philipa, my heart, my soul.

There was famine in my village. No rain-water for my field. I grow rice. But, no rain-water, no rice. So, agent come from big city, and tell, “Go to Riyadh. Become rich. Buy Mercedes. Come back to village”.

Life in Middle East

So, I pay agent, 10,000 dollars. I borrow money. In Riyadh, I learn fast, become wireman. Make big buildings. Go up crane 20 to 30 floors. Very dangerous. But I work hard, to pay loan. In the nights, sometimes I feel too much alone.

Then I run away. Everywhere, Doha, Bahrain, same story. 14 hours work. Salary 600 dirhams. 6 ‘parattas’ every day. And save only 200 dirhams every month, to pay back loan.

My room, too much people - 12 people. We have bunker beds, like army. No bedsheets. No towels. In my room, we have big poster of Aamir Khan and Sridevi. I see them on wall and feel nice. Lavatory - big problem. Every morning big line. I wait 15 minutes. Sometime 1 hour. But, I wait quietly. I have big loan in my life.

Nostalgia

Sometimes I dream, India big country, very rich country, have many jobs, too much money. And, lots of rain for my rice field. Then, all Indians stay in India. No need to earn dollar, in other countries. This I dream, many times.

I go up crane every day. I, frightened too much. I, frightened also, for electric current. I wireman.

I miss my village, my mango tree. And, I miss my old mother and father, my small brother, sister. I need money for marriage of my sister. But, I cannot go back. I have big loan in my life.

On Friday, company people take all workers, in bus to big mall. I, very impressed. Many items, many nice clothes, very beautiful people. People in mall always very happy, laughing, smiling, buying, eating fast-food, playing games. But, I only see everything. Me, little money. No buy anything. I have big loan in my life.

Then, I see Philipa. She has white skin, golden eyes. She smile for me. She work in Starbucks coffee. She give me little-bit orange juice. Philipa very good, bootiful. I like.

Philipa

After I meet Philipa, I no sleep. Every night is big mountain, for me, without Philipa. Every Friday, I see Philipa in Starbucks. Every Friday, she give me little-bit smile.

Then one day we go for movie. Philipa touch me little bit, by mistake. I also touch her. She smile. She smell very good. Like big garden of rose flowers.

We, solid happy! Then, I fight too much hard, not to fall in love with Philipa. I do my best to avoid falling in love with Philipa. But, I make mistake; I fall in love, with Philipa. It just happened, you know. Am, so very sorry.

Now, every night, my heart full of Philipa. Every night, me cut my heart and throw out. But, every morning, my heart is full of Philipa again.

Every Friday, I see Philipa in Starbucks. Every Friday, she give me little-bit smile.

Recession and Philipa goes

Then Philipa lose job. Recession, you know. Few customers. Philipa go home to Manila. She cry too much, at airport. I have ten fingers. So I hold her 10 tears. But Philipa has too many tears in her. Some tears fall on the ground, at airport. I feel 
very sad.

You see, I man, I no cry. But, when Philipa go inside, and her aeroplane become small twinkling star in the black skies, I cry, alone in toilet. Little-bit.

Now, every day, I die little-bit. I don’t go to mall anymore.

The only thing, I want, besides wanting Philipa back, is to be left alone. I stay at labour-camp, every Friday.

Manila and village

Maybe, I run away from here. Go to Manila, and take Phillipa to my village. My family will laugh: “You no bring dollar? No Mercedes? Only Philipa?”

Then, I will stand like the actor Amitabh Bachchan, who defied the whole world, in the movie called the ‘Deewar’. With my hands on my hips, I tell my family, “So what? Philipa will give me baby. I will make small shop in village, selling cigarettes, matches and old clothes”.

Then, Philipa and I, just live. But, I work 3 more years. I have big loan in my life.

My life not very good. Little-bit hard also. But I work. For, to pay back loan. And then, meet Philipa.

This, my little-bit, life.