Misconceptions

Hey! Check out these misconceptions? Are our children learning with understanding?

Cooking Papa's Way

4:00 A.M. That was the time Dawa woke up every morning of the winter vacation she spent at home with her father during her schooling days. No use of alarms, mind you.

She poured some water to a portion of milk powder and boiled the mixture for exactly five minutes. The milk for her father's bed tea was ready. He disliked direct mixing of the milk powder in his tea and God forbid if the milk were not prepared the way he had instructed!

After a carefully measured portion of tea leaves had been soaked in boiled water for some time, she poured the tea into her father's special Chinese mug and stirred a tea spoonful of sugar. The bed tea was the alarm for her father to wake up. The tea quality was neither of the Oja of western Bhutan nor of the strong Indian brewed tea.

8:00 A.M. That was the time for breakfast. Another cup of meticulously prepared tea for her father. Some parathas too. Use of cooking oil forbidden...only amul butter. The prepartion involved pressing on all sides of the neatly flattened triangle shaped roti with a large spoon. One can imagine the state of the fingers with the heat from the pan by the time the preparation was over. Poor Dawa. 

12:00 noon. That was the time for lunch. The rice prepared in a special manner too. First, wash thoroughly. Next, pour the washed rice gently portion by portion into another pot and so on at least three times to ensure every small piece of stone had been removed before cooking. When ready to be cooked, pour just enough water...such that it is all absorbed by the rice and there is no need to throw away any of the starchy water. A few more minutes of cooking by the steam inside the pot while on simmer on the gas stove and the rice is almost ready to be stirred and poured. But...before that, another few minutes with the lid closed. Try cooking in the usual old style of throwing away of the starchy water in the villages and her father would know...somehow. Must be the taste he had gotten so used to that he could differentiate the less tasty rice cooked in the old ordinary way. (Well, we're talking about the time when rice cookers did not exist.)

There surely had to be some green chillies in any curry that was prepared. Dawa remembered the chillies were mostly of the Indian type. Too hot for her father's taste. So, here's what she had to do. First, loosen every single chilly rolling it gently with the finger tips. Next, cut each chilly into two halves and put them all in a container. Pour water and rinse as many times as required to ensure the insides of the chillies were all washed away. The curry had to have green chillies, but Dawa had to make sure the curry wouldn't get hot and annoy her father.

Mixed fresh vegetables was her father's favourtite. As many varieties of vegetables as possible to get from the market and mix them all. Rule No.1 - No water was to be added. It was believed the water from the vegetables would be enough to get the vegetables adequately cooked. Rule No.2 - No cooking oil was to be used. Only Amul butter. The pot of vegetables had to be picked from time to time and shaken up...tossing the vegetables...till the water had all dried up and the butter gave a delicious glossy look to every single piece of vegetable in the pot.

4:00 P.M. That was the time for evening tea. The preparation involved the same procedure as the morning one. Sometimes, a well beaten egg would serve the purpose of milk and the tea would still be tea. Amazing!

As I Stood

The angry clouds in shades of dirty white to dark grey;

The sun slowly sinking behind them;

Standing proud and tall the 16-flat yellow building.

Loud sounds of construction from afar,

Blending with the chirps of little children.

My head swimming with strange thoughts about Education,

While my heart in silence beating rhythmically;

My lips dry from the summer heat waves;
 
My feet all bare and swollen from standing too long.

A sudden gush of winds,

Scattering the litter on the road;

My mind awakened by the eerie sound.

No trace of the wind;

Education...education...education,

Gone astray with the visiting winds!

All...as I stood on a patch of green pavement.