My Life, A Cocktail

For a long time in my life, I didn’t know what a dishwasher was. I knew the word, and knew it was a gadget to wash dishes, but the concept of a machine washing my dishes was way beyond my imagination. Of course, I could have researched and found out what it looked like, and what it does, but well, let’s just say it was one of those things that you think about now and then, and do nothing about. Enter Sunnyvale, CA. Every apartment came with a dish washer! Months passed since we moved to our first apartment, and I would just use the dishwasher to keep my dishes after “I” washed them “myself”. How could I trust this machine to possibly remove all that oil and mess from my dishes? And what about that sticky gooey stuff at the bottom of the pan every time my hubby takes a shot at cooking? This machine can’t possibly take out all that? That’s probably what an average Indian housewife thinks of a dishwasher. We cook incredibly different from Americans do, and so the dishwasher possibly would

A dialogue from yesterday’s episode of HOUSE: “I would rather sit watching the birds, than wishing I had wings” reminded me of A dialogue from the movie Signs: “There are two kinds of people in this world, one that believe in miracles and that there is someone out there who will come save us in the time of need, and the other that believe they are all alone and have to watch out for themselves” The question is always the same… Which kind are you?

Some things just remain. I loved teddies and chocolates as a kid. Roses I adored as a teenager. I thought I had overgrown these old favorites. Teddies I never bought these days, and now were more a concern of allergies than anything else. Chocolates I couldn’t eat more than a couple, my throat would start to feel weird. Roses are flowers that rot away. Recently, I bought a cute little leopard cub, from the MGM grand store in Vegas. Since then, I sleep with it on my side, I watch TV with it, and irritate the heck out of my hubby with it. Yesterday, at Costco, I looked at all the holiday special chocolates that adorned the shelves. I can’t say how I resisted that temptation. Each time, at the local Safeway store, I stand gazing at the roses while my hubby finds a shopping cart. It’s probably a girl’s ideal gift, a Teddy, a box of chocolates and roses.

Being an adult, holidays are extremely important. It is the four days we try to squeeze in a whole year’s worth of fun. And it’s the chance to look back, in incredulous shock, at the thought of having had month long vacations as a kid. As a kid, Christmas was special and magical. I don’t exactly know why or how. Me and my sis would hang stockings on the drawers, and sleep the Christmas eve in anticipation. The next day we would convince ourselves that Santa was either fake, or Bahrain was just way to far from the North Pole. And yet, we would try next year. Now, being in the US, Christmas is when the lights are up, and snowman dolls adorn front porches of homes. Its when stores slash their prices and everyone’s shopping for gifts (even Men!!!). Its when you sit down with blue snowy gift wraps and sparkly ribbons and struggle to wrap that uneven box of toy. Its when even the most boring places, banks and the admissions office have candy canes. And the best part of Christmas, my hubby t

So while we were in Vegas, we decided to eat at this restaurant called “Himalayan Indian cuisine”. It was a Nepalese and Indian food place, and the concept excited us all. The ambience was nice, few neat tables, the walls and ceilings inlaid with Himalayan style décor. The server was nice and charming, and teased us to see how far we’d go for spicy food. We all dared to a spice level of 10. The food came fast, and it was delicious. It was indeed spicy, unlike a lot of restaurants here in the US. After the masalledar meal, I craved dessert. I remembered reading something interesting in the dessert menu. I asked for the menu again, and located the item immediately. “Lal Mohan: Two milk based pastries, brown on the outside, nice on the inside with a sweet savoury syrup to top.” Pastries! Yum! Layers of soft cake …. Brown on the outside? Something like Tiramisu may be! Yum yum, and more yum…. When the server brought my order, it was a silver cup. Pastries in a cup!?! Three gulab jamuns!?!

I am officially in “Post Vegas Depression”. The last four days in Las Vegas have been fantastic. Its amazing how just a single street can attract so much attention, have so much energy (and money) flowing in and out. I am missing the glitz of the casinos, the bustling crowds on blackjack tables, the sound of the silver roulette ball and the anticipation of the triple 7’s on the slot machines. For four days life changed drastically from the usual work and bay area life. This was vegas, where “you” can “be”. Until my next trip…