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Hair now, gone tomorrow!

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  Today, my husband was pleasantly surprised when he called out from the bathroom for a shampoo bottle. Normally, this would prompt a tirade about his laziness, followed by my hurried hand off of our regular brand of shampoo. But today, I handed him expensive bottles of shampoo and conditioner with a smile, saying, “With love.” Though puzzled, he was happy to indulge in the fancy products. I quietly slipped away before he realised they were the result of one of my hair care experiments gone wrong. Since moving into our new home, my obsession with hair care has reached new heights. Hair loss is such a rampant problem in my community that it’s probably the only topic people don’t argue about in our WhatsApp group. In a desperate attempt to save what’s left of my hair, I’ve tried everything: onion shampoo, rice water conditioner, WoW serum, Adivasi hair oil—you name it, I’ve tried it! Adding insult to injury, my mother delights in reminding me, “You used to have such thick hair I coul
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The emotion called Katta Pai!

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    A couple of weeks ago, my husband had inadvertently given three bags of washed clothes to an unknown ironing person. He said some new person had come asking for clothes to iron when he was on the phone, and he had handed them over to him. And now, all his new pants were missing. My first reaction was, “Oh dear! All my good Katta Pais!”   I know I know… but I really couldn’t help it. Katta Pais, or what we call the Big Shopper bags, are not just some random objects; they are, as the new lingo for all things close to the heart goes, an emotion! There have been many Instagram reels by various groups around the theme of Katta Pais. The most hilarious one for me was the one by Vikkals Vikram group when the son informs his mother that he scored cent per cent in Class X Math exam or came state first in Class XII or even that he got a handsomely paying job abroad, her reaction was a simple smile. But when he says that he said no to Katta Pai at a saree shop in line with his policy of eco-c
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From ME to WE

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   Nostalgia is a powerful emotion. Every one of us is nostalgic over something or the other and this gets stronger as we grow older. And when it involves moving into a new apartment, it is certainly a vast change. The people, the place, the community, the neighbourhood  - you are in for a sudden change, and it takes you a long time to adjust to it. I moved from the earlier home, our first purchase about 20 years ago. And you can judge how strong my emotions would be. My son’s childhood was in that place, and he still feels strongly about the old house. Since we moved into the new place, he has been away for studies and work. So he fondly reminisces only our earlier house as his home.   I couldn’t let go of the house so much that I had kept it under lock and key while occasionally going there to clean up the place. But as time grew, I felt my hold over the old place loosening and I slowly got into the mindset of letting it go. But till that time, when I prepared myself to let go,
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The breakfast conundrum

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If you are gloating over solving the day’s Wordle on your third attempt, try the daily breakfast/tiffin conundrum. For someone like me who hates cooking, this is the worst puzzle that tires me out at the start of the day. Most of you may have your favourite word to start solving the daily Wordle puzzle. The keyword that you rely on to find the word of the day in minimum attempts. Similarly, I have one for my breakfast riddle. But this one’s usually towards the end. After exhausting the options of Idli, Dosa and Pongal, this serves as my saviour of the morning dilemma. Yes! You guessed it right! As copy editors, we were always taught this universal thumb rule to follow when editing a story: When in doubt, cut it out. Similarly, I follow a standard proposition to crack my tiffin conundrum: When everything is out, bring  upma  out. Ah! Was that my son frowning at me? Never mind. That is a universal reaction from most people across the country. I have never understood why a breakfast item
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Menopause and MasterChef

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  I am not a fan of cooking. And I make no bones about proclaiming it. However, to my surprise, of late I have become a sort of an expert in the smoked style of cooking and have been churning out a variety of dishes day after day. And no, I haven’t got a new barbecue or an oven.  Since I couldn’t put my finger on what triggered this spree, I decided to pass on the credit to the back-to-back episodes of MasterChef Australia that I have been watching ever since the start of the pandemic in Star World. (I choose to ignore the annoying Koffee with Karan that always gets tagged along with the cookery show.) I now invariably end up naming my smoked items in some fancy chef terms that I picked up watching the cookery contest. Be it, eggplant with spicy lentils and herbs (sambar), mixed veggies in coconut and yoghurt sauce (avial), greens simmered in spices and coconut (arachuvita keerai) or even Indian wafers (appalam), the smoked list doesn’t end!  I can hear my son grinding his teeth in
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Sense and Incense

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Apart from the time when I was down with Covid-19 for a brief while when I had lost my sense of smell and taste, I have always been showing signs of mild hyperosmia. No, no, this is not some fatal disease but it refers to a heightened sense of smell. Trust me, I was not even aware that this was a medical condition until I watched a detective series, about a decade ago, in which an agent cracked a crime using someone's hyperosmic skills. Only after that, it made sense to me as to why I felt nauseated in air-conditioned rooms, new cars with fresh leather seats, perfume sections in supermarkets or five-star hotel restrooms. Well, the reason I am bringing this up now is because of an interesting news item that caught my eye this morning; the one about agarbatti sales taking a dip because of the discontinuation of WFH (work from home). Yes, you heard me right. WFH and agarbattis! The article went on to talk about how the lockdown period had actually boosted sales of agarbattis up to 3
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