Bise-Bhele-Bhaat

Bise-Bhele-Bhaat is one of my favourite dishes. The Colourful concoction of rice, lentils and vegetables is as tasty as it looks. It is simple to make and easy to eat as it does not require any side dish to be eaten with it. My grandmothers and mother are experts at making this dish. However the best Bise-Bhele-Bhaat I have tasted was made by my friend Sahana, who originates from the same place that Bise-Bhele-Bhaat originated - Karnataka.  Sahana had a knack for making it. She would toss the ingredients into a cooker and let it cook. She would then add the condiments and it would be just perfect at the first try. She knew the quantities by just looking at them. When complimented, she would just smile and offer to explain how to make it. She was unassuming and never cared for compliments.

"Exchange one dollar with and a friend and you have a dollar each.

Exchange an idea with a friend and you have two good ideas."

In this race of life, many believe that success is a win-lose situation, where one needs to put down their counterparts in order to succeed. In stark contrast she believed in sharing ideas and knowledge with everyone in order to obtain ideas from them. She believed that learning was a two-way process that benefitted the receiver as well as the giver.

Relative Grading is analogous to ensuring that you stay a little ahead of others, so that you can leverage the edge you have by converting it to a better grade. Several people I knew used the relative grading system to their advantage by not sharing what they knew with others. However, Sahana rubbished these ideas and freely shared her notes with everyone. The notes that she meticulously prepared, used to be photocopied and passed around the rest of the class. Never once did she worry that the people she helped would outperform her.

Sahana was extremely organized. She did not stop with herself and lent a hand to anyone who required it. Once during my Master's, I had an open book exam. I sat in the study lounge with piles and piles of paper surrounding me, unsure of how to proceed. Sahana, came up to me. She sat down and quickly began to re-arrange my notes. She labelled them using sticky notes and sorted them into five broad categories depending on the portions covered in them. She gave me a few tips on how to use those notes to my advantage. She congratulated me when I received an 'A' on the paper, and commented that I had done the studying and she was only a catalyst.

She did not stop with academics. Cooking came naturally to Sahana, and she gave cooking advice to anyone who asked her. She taught me to make macaroni and accompanied me to the shop to purchase the best pasta available in the market. She made Bise-bhele-bhaat and Biriyani when I was low and never ceased to motivate me when I felt low.

Sahana Completed the course with flying colors. She topped the class. What made it more special for everyone was that, by succeeding, she created a win-win situation for everyone. She proved that one can succeed by being simple. The bise-bhele-Bhaat is simple, tasty and nourishing. The same way the best way to be successful is be simple, drop your ego, learn from others and teach others what you know. The way to succeed will present itself to you.

Sahana, as you celebrate your birthday, I wish you a prosperous life. I wish that your life is as Colourful as the Bise-Bhele-Bhaat. Continue to be as awesome as you are. The world needs people like you.

Worry not for life will move on...

This post is dedicated to my dear friend 'A'. I have had several friends but one person who motivated me the most was 'A', His tale is one of grit, determination and strong will. He never lost heart and had worked hard. He never gave up hope and always told himself that he would see light at the end of the tunnel. 

Every classroom in any institution will have melange of people ranging from the super-geeks to the most chilled out people. Though the ratio of the geeks to average humans depends upon the ranking and repute of the school, every class will have atleast one different person who does not fit into the mould.

I studied in an Undergraduate School that was not bad but was not a great school. Our class had a fine balance of nine-pointers and average students. Some people studied really hard and walked away with brilliant grades. While some were just content to pass. However there were some people who did not fall into both categories. One such person was 'A'.

He worked really hard. While others started studying for a test only a day prior to it. He would study for weeks. He would revise two, three and even four times but would mess up at the end of the exam. At the end of the test he would be glum as would not have been able to answer most of the questions. He would then move on and study for the next test. This pattern continued until a point when he finally lost his motivation. One day when our seniors were graduating from college, he saw them in their graduation gowns and lamented that he would never graduate. I jokingly asked him to borrow a seniors gown and click a picture in case he never graduated. However he took in good spirit and continued to work as hard as before.

The problem with 'A' and many others like him is that our education system caters only to a particular Genre of Learners. He was a semi-kinesthetic learner who understood things by experiencing them. Once while explaining to him how to draw a diagram over the phone, he repeatedly asked me the same question. I finally lost patience and gave up. He then took a pencil and compass and constructed the diagram himself. The next day he showed me the diagram. It was perfect and flawless. He then began to understand his learning patterns. He got notes from our class toppers and focused on what he was best at. He cleared all his backlogs and passed his course with flying colours. 

Post his Bachelor's he joined a Master's course in USA. Unlike his previous stint in India he had a good start to his course. He worked hard and cleared his first semester with a stellar 4 on 4. He said through the other semesters well and is now on his way to receive his Masters.Now, whenever I feel low he motivates me.

When I think of him and all that he has gone through I realize that he played a very important role in my life. By explaining things to him, I learnt things better. By seeking motivation by looking at him I felt motivated. 

Everytime we are running through a rough phase in our lives we only think of our ourselves and fail to realize that we are not an isolated system. Our difficulties and joys also contribute to the upliftment of others around us. The earth by itself is a system in equlibrium. It is not possible to have a perpetual summer or winter as the each region needs to experience its own equilibrium in order for the earth to be in balance.

As you go through each day, If you are happy share your joy with others and help them regain their equilibrium. If you are sad, share your sorrow with those who matter and help yourself get back on your feet.

And everyone else who feels like a black sheep or an underachiever. Remember there are many flocks of white sheep and though you might feel odd one day you will eventually find your flock. The day you discover what you are good at or when someone else discovers you is not far. A world with only white sheep is a colourless world. Until then just focus on keep yourself in balance.

Epilogue :

He walked into the room, with his bride holding his hand. He flashed his million dollar smile at us as he walked along the flower decked aisle. He had two degrees, a wonderful wife and a stellar career. I flashed him a smile and walked up to the podium by the stage to deliver the best man's (woman in my case) speech. He who was once considered a lowly black sheep was now an amazingly successful one.

Together through Thick and Thin

I few days ago I was reading my friends blog post. It took me down the memory line. 

This is the URL to her post : http://evinceread.blogspot.sg/2015/03/i-miss-old-us.html

I was chatting with a friend. He mentioned that friends were replaceable. He said that as we move on we should discard old friendships and gain new friends to suit new situations. He argued that we should rid ourselves and our friends of old friendships the same way we get rid of worn out clothes.  I argued that friendships were an integral part of life that created good memories and made life nicer. We can get rid of old clothes but we can not get rid of old memories and these memories would not be what they are without friends.

When I was in Kindergarten, once the lessons for the day were over, I would rush to the Umbrella Tree on my school campus. My mother would come to fetch me from school. As she waited for me to arrive she would engage in some talk with the other mothers. My first friends in school were the daughters of these waiting mothers. As our mothers chatted we would talk to each other and wave each other goodbye as we parted. At that point of time friendship to me meant the companionship of other kids around your age. 

The first friend I made, my first best friend was a classmate in third grade. As we sat next to each other in class we exchanged phone numbers. We did not even know each others names for a whole year. However as we grew up each of us had different likings and started to gel with different sets of people. Unintentionally we had drifted apart and had become part of different cliques. We continue to remain good friends to this date.

Post primary school, The next Best Friend's I had were through Girl Guides. Six of us had to spend almost a year in each others company. We saw each other for approximately 8 hours a day and at the end of it, three of them were my best friends. Their friends became my friends over time. Of the three of them, I speak to one friend once in a month. While I do not speak to the other two frequently, we still update each other on our lives. We live in different corners of the globe and haven't met in a long time.

Once I graduated from school, I entered university. The people whom I had known all my life were no longer around me. In the first year of college we had mixed classes where students from different branches attended classes together. Though I did not have a best friend in particular, I had 5 friends in the class. Four of them live in different cities now and one lives in the the same city as mine. I keep in touch with four of them.

Travelling to college was memorable and I made several very good friends on the Bus. Living in the same locality made it easier for us to synchronise our travel times. As the bus trod along Chennai roads, we would look through the grills of the bus window and animatedly chat while the breeze messed up our neat braids. All the friends I made on the bus live far away,

Though undergrad I made other friends as my Junior year friends drifted away. However the only person I would call my best friend was a batch-mate I met in my pre-final year of college. We did not have any common classes and met through mutual friends. He now stays over 15000km away from where I live now.

Of all the good friends I had before leaving India, I am in touch with all of them but one person?

Surprisingly, the person I seldom talk to is not the person who lives 15000 km away. Nor is it the person I met as a child. The person I seldom talk to is the person who lives in the same city as me.

The same scenario would have been different a decade ago when Skype was uncommon, Facetime unheard of, Whatsapp was nonexistent and international calls cost a bombshell. A good friendship does not require geographical closeness to sustain itself. All it needs is the willingness of two individuals to be a part of each others lives.

Some may argue that the world is becoming increasingly virtual and virtual friendships are unreal. Though there is nothing like having a friend beside you, it does not make sense to sever ties just because you do not meet often. Throwing a friend out of your life just because you can not see the person in flesh and blood every day or week of your life makes no sense. Circumstances may force the Best of Friends apart and a friend does not cease to be a friend just because a person does not reside in the same locality as you.

One of my very good friends is a person I met in the neighbourhood mathematics tuiton. She lived in USA and I lived in India. We wrote to each other and became good friends. I have met her in person only 5 or 6 times but that in now way makes her a lesser friend. My current roomates and a few classmates are my buddies in Singapore. A dozen years down the line we may be in different places and we may or may not be in contact. However if we lose contact it is because we have emotionally drifted apart, not because the distance has parted us.

And each time I call a friend or text a long lost buddy.....

Even if the distance does us part we shall not.

Tea Time Tales

One girl was seated on the couch. With the laptop perched on the armrest of the couch, she sifted through her mails. Another sat on the floor examining an image of Cinderella on a black t-shirt. Her attention barely shifted from the masterpiece she created. The third girl sat on another couch. With her tab in her hand she read through some article on an online newspaper. The clock struck eleven and though they technically did not have wall clock at home, their circadian rhythms were in harmony and their psychological clock rang mini alarms indicating that it was tea time.

They looked at each other for a full thirty seconds before they asked each other who would prepare tea. Finally one of them got up and proceeded to the stove. She collected the ingredients and placed them on the table to avoid repeated visits to the kitchen storage that was a good five yards away. A click was a heard and the trio turned their attention to the door as the fourth member of the tea party entered.

Glasses were placed on the table and a spoon of sugar was placed in two of the glasses. The tea was filtered and each member was handed a glass. All of them sat down on the four couches in the room. As they curled into their comfort zones each of them complimented the person who prepared tea that day. Over a glass of tea they would discuss the happenings of the day. They would engage in harmless banter and tease each other. As the tea vanished, they would wind their tea party. Once the glasses were empty each would wash their glass and stow it on the counter top rack before they hit the sack.

This was an everyday ritual that they arduously followed. Even if one was busy, the other three would continue to drink tea as the missing member would catch up on the details the next day. The practice of tea-drinking may seem banal to others but to them it was one time of the day they really looked forward to. All of them were students who were in different stages of their doctoral programme. Each had batlles to face everyday of their lives but when it was tea time they drowned their worries and fears in the mugs of tea and cleansed their minds to prepare themselves for the day that was to come. 

Being a member of this tea party, I always wondered how all the others had time for everything despite their tight schedules. One day I remembered a story that one of my school teachers once told us. 

"A professor stood before his philosophy class with some items in front of him.

When class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He asked the students if the jar was full, they all agreed it was. So, the professor picked up a box of pebbles and poured them in the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled around the golf balls and filled into the spaces between the golf balls. He again asked, “is the jar full?”; and again the students agreed it was. The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar.Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous “Yes!”. The professor then produced two cups of tea from the table and poured the entire contents into the jar; effectively filling the empty spaces between the sand. The students laughed. As the laughter subsided, the professor said, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things, family, children, health, friends, and your favorite passions. The pebbles are the other things that matter, like your job, house, and car. The sand is everything else—the small stuff. If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued, “you will spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18 holes.There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set priorities. The rest is just sand.” One of the students asked, “What does the coffee represent?” The professor smiled. “I’m glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a cup of tea with a friend.”

This Just goes to show how we can make time for everything in our lives. All we need to do is to sort out our priorities. The laundry can be put away for another day or we can squeeze a five minute slot to just load the washer and collect the clothes later. After all chores are just grains of sand. There is no point in cribbing that the jar is full of sand when the golf balls are effectively outside. When your life seems to be getting too heavy with trivial sand like issues just throw the sand out and fill it with the more important issues. The sand will fall into its space between the golf balls. And incase your life seems completely overwhelming, it does not matter whether your life is filled with sand or pebbles or golfballs. Just head for a cup of tea with your friends. After all there is always space for a cup of tea.

You can see the video for the Mayo Jar story on https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z-iyK1zGC84

Breaking the Glass Barrier

Dearest Appa.... You Always told me I can be whatever I want... I and ultimately did whatever I wanted.... with your words echoing in my head.... This post is dedicated to you.... I only wish more people could be like you..... 

The Indian Society has progressed considerably over the last century. The outlook of Indians has become considerably broader and things seem to be improving for the better. However patriarchy continues to be dominant in India. Though families are becoming increasingly liberal, the society in general continues to be chauvinistic.

An interview of one of the accused in the infamous Nirbhaya Case only echos the sentiments expressed by several men in India who believe that women are born to serve men. Also, men believe that it is below their dignity to partake in household chores and feel that women are inferior mortals whose sole purpose on earth is to serve them.

Women in some societies are made to believe that they are inferior. In some societies they are made to believe that they are equal to men. They live with the belief that they can do what they want and aim for the ceiling only to be hit hard on the head by the invisible glass barrier of patriarchy that injures their personality. Some brush the injury away and break the glass paving for a barrier less path for other while some recoil post hitting the glass. My tale is one where I hit the glass and decided to shy away from it, yet climbed over the glass barrier by circumventing it (by leaving the country). I bow down to all the strong women who had the courage and will power to break the barrier.

I belong to an extremely liberal family. My family took my education and empowerment very seriously. When I decided that I wanted to pursue Mechanical Engineering, my parents wholeheartedly supported me. I completely loved my course but was inherently depressed and unhappy as several of my batch mates treated me like an untouchable. I was made to sit alone on the left side first bench. The bench that was meant to seat five students, had only two students seated on it as my classmates were vehemently against the idea of sitting near someone they considered inferior just because their set of 46 chromosomes had one different chromosome as compared to mine. 

The disparity and discrimination did not end with the seating arrangement. When the class decided to go on an industrial visit, the other girl in my class and I expressed our desire to join them. However some of my classmates purposely did not book tickets for us, under the pretext of in-availability of tickets as they did not want a lesser mortal joining them on the trip. 

Symposiums and tech-fests are meant to be events where people share their ideas. However in my department for the girls it was far from what it was meant to be. We had to draw rangolis to welcome the chief guests and decorate the stage as the so called superior mortals (the boys or the men in my class) refused to help us.

My irritation and annoyance at the disparity grew so much that I really wanted to get out of the university as soon as possible and head out of the city as soon as I could. The mere sight of my college brought tears to my eyes. The day I left my city I felt a sense of empowerment. I could be myself and people respected me for the person I am. Not for the gender I belonged to. The men in my life who supported me then continue to support me now and I am thankful to all the people in my life (men and women) for making me what I am now.My heart goes out to all the women who face supression and discrimination at home and in the society.

I do not mean to say that all men are evil or mean. But the percentage of people that need to really understand that their right to be be liberal should not curtail the freedom of others is very high. A vast majority of my classmates were chauvinistic, Some were extremely broadminded and humane. My sincere thanks to them for reinforcing my faith in humanity and for giving me the belief that good people exist. I see shining examples of liberal and strong men in my grand father, father,brother and friends and wish that other men can stop being chauvinistic and hypocritical. Maybe once they have a daughter or wife their stance may change. Only time can tell what changes may occur in the future. Until then I pray.... Into this heaven of Freedom my People.... Let my Country Awake!!!

P.S: This post is not intended to hurt anyone. The primary aim of this post is to make people aware of the restrictions the society imposes on us. Also, Over my four years in college I had several nightmares and wanted to bring it to an end. Documenting it and bringing it to an end puts some sort of closure on my emotions.

Heal the World

 This blog post is not about food for the tongue but food for thought.

It was my entry to the Springer Writing Contest.

A graduate student who has gone home for a vacation chances to talk to her nonagenarian great-grandmother. The well educated and articulate grandmother attributes her health to Science and this sets the duo chatting about the advancements in healthcare and why the probability of living a longer is higher in the twenty-first century than it was before.

INTRODUCTION:

The average life span of a human is now twice what it was less than a decade ago. While wars consumed many lives, diseases also had a huge role to play in the vicious cycle of low natality rate and high mortality. This was due to the absence of proper healthcare. Diseases like the pox and Measles that seem simple today were deadly once upon a time. This paradigm shift from deadly worry to a mild irritant is primarily due to the advancements in healthcare. Though vaccines and drugs were available in the previous century, one thing that was not available then and is rapidly developing now is tissue engineering. 

TISSUE ENGINEERING:

Tissue Engineering deals growing new organs in order to repair damaged old organs. This is similar to replacing the parts of an auto-mobile as they wear out. Tissue Engineering that was once limited to transplanting organs from one portion of the body to another has now evolved to something that involves the creation of organs from cells and bio-materials, aided by suitable environmental conditions. In the last five years Tissue Engineered Grafts for skin and blood vessels have been prepared and the day is not far when Tissue Engineering will be used to create nerves and other tissues that seem seemingly impossible to create.

THE TALE BEGINS:

As I sat on the verandah of my my house lazily sipping my coffee a brisk and smart woman in her nineties brushed past me and sat down on the chair opposite mine. “Good Morning Ammama” I greeted her as she sat down nodding with a cup of coffee in her hand. I reminded her that she would be turning ninety five the next day and told her to not rush. She nodded and said that it was the will of God and discoveries in Science that had enabled her to live this long. I curiously asked her what she meant by that. Being a Doctorate student in Tissue Engineering, I understood what she meant but was surprised by the fact that my Ammama knew so much.

She took a sip of her coffee and pointed to the picture of my great grandfather hanging on the wall and solemnly said, If only he had contracted the deadly disease he had five years later. He would be alive now. This set my grey cells churning as I wondered how the situation was less than a decade ago and how it would be few years down the line. My great-grandfather had succumbed to liver cirrhosis. Liver Replacements were unknown of in the time he lived. My thoughts were interrupted when Ammama gingerly tapped my knee with her left hand. As I looked up she pointed to a line on her forearm indicating the place where her skin had been cut to place an implant. She said “When you were a little girl I fractured my arm and had this implant. Last year when my heart valve was not functioning properly the doctor replaced it with a new one. In fact my ocular lens is also artificial.” As I slowly nodded my head in approval, she said “Our body is like an auto-mobile. These organs are like spare parts”.

At that moment a creaking of the gate was heard. Both of us turned to face the gate as my cousin Leela entered holding her year old son Aditya in one hand. Aditya had a black thread tied around his waist. I could not help but notice a small cylindrical wire attached to the thread. Leela noticed that I was looking at it and explained to me that it was a small piece of the umbilical cord that had connected her to Aditya. I asked Leela if she had harvested that umbilical cord. Leela nodded. Ammama lifted Aditya and said,”This young man will most likely have a longer life than most of us”.I added that Cord Blood Banking was an excellent idea, especially since it could be used to treat many disorders that include leukaemia. I also added that the umbilical cord was an excellent source of stem cells that could be harvested and used for development of organs.

Ammama’s eyes gaped like that of a small child. She asked me to elaborate on what I had said. I cleared my throat and began. “Just like you have this metallic implant in you, one day you might just have your own implant made of your own cells”. As Ammama could not fathom what I was saying, I asked her if she remembered all the drugs she had to take when she had the arm surgery. I explained to her that some of those were immuno-suppressants that prevented the body from attacking the implant, as her own body cells would assume the implant to be a foreign body, I told her that the day was not far off when one could have their own organs manufactured from their very own cells. 

Aditya entered the room. With uneven steps he hastened to me and tugged my dress. I lifted him up and made him sit down on my lap. I explained to her that. Cells in the umbilical cord that I had mentioned earlier were embryonic stem cells that could develop into any kind of cell provided that right environment and nutrients were provided. I was able to sense that Ammama was losing track of the conversation. I decided that being simple was better than confusing her. 

I asked her what the difference between bone and skin was. Ammama said “Bone is hard, Skin is soft”. I smiled and said “Yes!!! Similarly if you grow those stem cells on a hard surface they will become bone! If you grow it on a soft surface they will become skin!!”. Ammama smiled and flashed me a thumbs up sign signalling that she understood. She then asked me what would happen to the heart and lungs. I explained to her that the same stem cells can be grown on a surface modelled similar to the heart surface. Thought it hadn't happened I assured her that in less than half a decade we would have engineered heart valves, skin, hearts and several other organs.

She then asked me what my research was about. I told her that I was trying to design implants for the  tendon. I pointed to my wrist to explain what I meant. I told her that nowadays many people were injuring their tendon by breaking it or stretching it too much and I was attempting to make a model of an implant that would use that patients cells. I explained to her that my lab-mate Ankitha was working on knee implants and that it was a booming field. She remarked that if she ever needed an implant in the future she hoped that it would be the one designed by me. She said that she would endorse it like a badge of pride.

I realised that thought we had solved certain health issues, there were hundreds of problems left to be solved. As we found solutions to problems, more problems arise. The average life span today is eighty years and that was bound to increase considerably. Small pox, SARS and H1N1 were things of the past. EBOLA was happening and though it would be gone soon some other disease would crop up soon. I said to myself that all I could do was to make my implant effective and this would be a little contribution in the sea of healthcare research. 

EPILOGUE: 

The laboratory tests for the implants had been successful. The implants had been tested on animals and were on their way to getting Device Exemption from the regulatory board. As I waited for the regulatory officer from HSA to formally announce our approval, my phone rang. I cut it once but called back intermediately realizing that it was my mother. My mothers voice choked with emotion as she said that Ammama had passed away. A tear rolled down my cheek. Ammama had seen her grand daughter’s grandson and had lived a full life. I looked at the skies and blew a kiss to Ammama and ensured her that though I did not have the privilege of letting her try the implant I designed many people in the years to come, will use it.

CONCLUSION:

Nothing is impossible in the world of Tissue Engineering. While on one hand bio-materials are being developed to enhance the cell culture process, on the other people are working towards creating new organs and tissues.Though Cord Blood and Stem Cell banking seem to be the way forward into the future, the concept faces several roadblocks in the form of escalating storage costs and ethical concerns. Nature throws several problems at us and it is up to humans to solve these problems using the resources nature has provided us with. 

In the years to come we can expect several organs to be created by means of tissue engineering. Not just several tissues but complete working organs. Given the advancements in technology, though probably not in the foreseeable future, some day complete organ systems may be created artificially. Till then we need to keep working hard towards doing our little bit to the society.

My great grandmother lived to see her progenies of five generations. Who knows I might live to see seven.

“Heal the world, Make it a better place.

For you, for me and the entire human race.....”

Homecoming

The prime reason the South Indian Eateries in the Airport are thriving is the desperation of the travellers to eat home cooked food the moment they set foot on home soil. However, some may want to relish a last minute dosa or coffee before boarding the flight. Whenever I travel to Chennai, my hometown, I always look forward to the meal as soon as I step out of the terminal. I usually take a budget flight as the food served on the aircraft does nothing but spoil my appetite. Generally my parents will bring a packed hamper containing my favourite goodies to satiate my taste buds as we travelled home. If it is a morning flight we would drive to the nearest tiffin centre and catch up over a Mini-Tiffin and Coffee. This would be the beginning of a gastronomical journey that would last my entire trip to Chennai.

During my last trip to Chennai, I went to my paternal house from the airport. My grandmother had prepared half a dozen delicacies. I thoroughly enjoyed the meal and then visited my Maternal grandmother, who had prepared another half a dozen delicacies. I initially thought of refusing, but realised that I would have an opportunity to eat without being questioned, only during my next trip. I ended up having six meals that day.

As I browse through facebook, seeing my friends vacation photos, my mouth begins to salivate. I feel a sense of happiness when I realize that I will be home in less than forty-eight hours. I vividly imagine the bowls of rice and gravy, placed on my dining table. I know that I am carrying only ten kilos of luggage and my baggage will be a few kilos heavier owing to the food stuff. I also know that my waist will be broader by a few inches when I return and I scarcely care for it is for only two weeks in a year where I get to eat what I want.

Yipee!!! 38 hours and I am home!!!!