My journey to and in the kitchen

I don't really remember the first time I made something by myself in the kitchen. But it probably was when I squeezed a lemon, added some water and sugar to it and proudly showed off my first lemonade at the age of 7. I remember making milkshakes (basically milk+fruit essence+sugar) during later years of elementary school. I also remember making the occasional bread pudding during middle school and early years of high school. But ultimately what gave me the love and passion of cooking was that batch of brownies I baked during junior year of high school. Those brownies weren't much work on my part as I used a ready-to-bake mix. But it was an instant hit among my friends. I became their favorite brownie chef. I did try explaining that its pretty easy to make and that they should all try too. One of them tried and accidentally burnt them. That convinced the whole lot of them that only I can bake brownies. Their love and encouragement took me back to the kitchen over and over again. I baked often, but every time using the mix. The occasional custard now and then, the tea I made for my dad along with my brownies were all I made as long as I was in high school.

High school was soon over, all my friends scattered around the world. That put a halt to my visits into the kitchen for quite some time. When I started college, I'd come back from classes, sit at the table in the kitchen and talk to my aunt about my day. That took me back to the kitchen. She'd cook and I'd watch her. Slowly I started looking for recipes to try out. On Friday evenings when I'm about to start studying or am unable to answer that one annoying homework question, the kitchen seems like the best place on earth. The kitchen became my getaway from weekend studying. I started trying out all those recipes. Sadly, most of the things I've tried out so far have been desserts. Well, who doesn't love desserts? I tried out new things and most of the time, my creations didn't disappoint me. In this short span of time, I've got a few signature dishes of my own. My family loves my mango cheesecake, and family friends love my Badushah/ Balushahi. I've tried a bunch of cheesecakes, cupcakes, cookies and Indian desserts. Once in a while, I'd wander off to the savory side too. The only couple of meals I've ever made have been supervised by either my mom or my aunt, so I wouldn't yet call them my own. I've dreamt of making my own meals but I haven't gotten there yet. Hopefully someday soon I'd serve my family a meal made entirely by me. When I get there, I'd make sure that a blog post is dedicated to my first meal!

Along the way I've realized that cooking can be a lot of fun if you really like doing it. From what I've learnt in the kitchen, the joy of cooking doesn't lie on how good the food tastes. The joy of cooking lies in the smiles that people give you after having the food you made. The joy of cooking lies in sharing the food with others. The smiles and the feedback I've received, have given me all the motivation I need. Fortunately I'm surrounded by people who've always encouraged me to try out new things. My journey in the kitchen started with my friends' requests for brownies. And it continues.....

P.S: The pictures are my creations :)

Your Hijab, your choice

Finally, here’s my kind of a topic! I’ve been thinking about and debating with others on this topic for quite some time now. Here’s my chance to express my thoughts on this matter. Islam is a beautiful religion. Women in Islam are empowered, yet protected. The rights Islam gave women in the 7^th century AD were not made available to other women till the 20^th century.  The confidence and the sense of security that I feel, as a Muslim girl in Hijab is enormous. Yet, I see women being unfairly judged and criticized by other Muslim men and women everyday.

Firstly, someone’s Hijab is not an indicator of her piety. Please go back and read that sentence again. Yes, Islam requires us women to cover ourselves. But, to be able to fully understand what the Hijab is about and to accept it wholeheartedly is more important than covering yourself just because society asks you to. Sisters, your Hijab is a decision that concerns you and Allah alone. Please do not let any one else, be it your parents, husband or community members interfere in that. You have to accept it willingly and shouldn't be forced into it. My Hijab was my personal choice. My family did not have a say in it and I’m glad it happened that way. If my family had forced me, I’m sure I wouldn’t have the kind of love and dedication towards my Hijab as I now have. I’ve taken my time to learn more about the Hijab and to gradually improve it. I realize that it is a slow process. Similarly, any girl/woman needs her time to learn about the Hijab and slowly accept it.

What the rest of the community is supposed to do is to encourage them and make the process easier for them. But what are we doing? We are posting things on social media that say, “What you are doing is not Hijab, wearing an Abaya and covering your face with a Niqab is Hijab.” I’m sorry, but who has given us the right to dismiss someone’s efforts that easily? It might not be that easy for someone to accept the Hijab as it had been for you. For those of us who have lived or are living in Islamic countries, the Hijab is an easy choice. But for others, it might not be all that easy. We do not know how hard they must be trying to finally get there. Being fellow sisters in Islam, it is our duty to help them with the process. Now for the men whose Social media posts always concern the Hijab. You have absolutely no clue how big of a decision the Hijab is and rude posts on social media are not going to inspire any woman to accept the Hijab.

Let us take a moment to realize that the Hijab only takes us one step closer to becoming better Muslims. It is not true that every woman who wears a Hijab is a good Muslimah and every woman who doesn’t wear a Hijab is not. Let us please not shun anyone or say rude things about a fellow sister in Islam, just because she hasn’t yet taken that brave step towards Hijab. Yes, you can advise them about it. But be careful in choosing your words. Be encouraging. Be supportive. Remember that Allah has asked us to not judge anyone because we are not aware of his or her intentions and in Islam intentions matter more than actions. We are striving everyday to become a better Ummah and in order to achieve that, we need to help each other out and not dishearten anyone.  

The peaceful haven that I call home

I’ve been debating for the past three days if I want to do two similar topics back to back. But, my grandparents’ garden reminded me too much of the place I spent the earliest days of my childhood in: my little hometown at the tip of mainland India, peaceful and unadulterated, green and brimming with scenic landscapes. The neighborhood where I grew up is a tranquil haven, in the middle of coconut farms. Astonishingly, it remains the same even after all these years. If there is one place that I don’t see changing, it is there. The summers that I have been spending there literally transport me to another world, as different as can be from where I spend the rest of the year.

Imagine. You are on the way to my neighborhood from the town. Houses and stores line the road on either side. You then see a water channel ahead. As you cross the channel, the scene changes. A light breeze – neither too warm nor too cold caresses your face. There are coconut palms everywhere you look, dotted with a couple of houses here and there. The greenery is overwhelming and for a moment you wonder if civilization even exists here.  The vehicles speeding by are the only indication that people live there. You make a turn and enter the street where I grew up. You’d find more houses here and in the backdrop, more coconut palms. If you were to visit anytime between noon – 3pm or between 9 pm and dawn, you can be assured that you won’t see anyone outdoors. Apart from the crows cawing and the occasional moos from the coconut farm, it is as quiet as can be. But the mornings and evenings are the exact opposite, brimming with life: kids going to and coming back from school, playing outdoors and the vendors selling vegetables, milk, fish and whatnot. The place is a treat to look at, anytime of the day. But as you go into the farms, you discover wonders. My favorite among those is the narrow waterway that transports water from I’m not sure where to where. As the stream descends in height, it forms a miniature waterfall there. The noise of water gurgling is all you can hear apart from the occasional bird song.

What astonishes me is that the place remains virtually unchanged in the 16 -17 years of my life that I can remember. Yes, the technology invasion has touched my neighborhood too, but in spite of that life still continues there as it did all those years ago. Every year, when I go back home, I anticipate some sort of change but fortunately or unfortunately, everything remains the same and every single thing seems to be shouting, “Welcome back home!” My mom often says that every time you cross the water channel and enter the neighborhood, the breeze is always there to remind you that you are back home.

Growing up in my grandparents' garden

The harsh Saudi Arabian summer (Wait! What am I talking about? It is always summer here. Anyways..) reminds me of my favorite kind of weather that I just left behind in the US. Spring is not only my favorite time of the year because it is a much-needed relief from winter, but spring symbolizes life and rebirth. You’ve been used to seeing the bland landscape and lifeless plants and trees around you, the whole of winter. And then, spring comes along, brings not only warmth and rain, but also life. The landscape slowly turns green; flowers start to bloom, gradually bringing color to the lifeless – looking plants and trees. For me, spring means throwing away my winter jacket, going for evening walks and getting rid of the depression that winter brings.

Earlier this spring, when my aunt and I finally brought our plotted plants outdoors after the whole fall – winter phase, seeing the plants sway with the wind, gave me unexplainable happiness. A sudden thought occurred to me and I told my aunt, “Doesn’t it look like the plants are doing some sort of happy dance? They must be so excited to finally have sun rays fall upon them.” Plants always give me that kind of happiness. The reason behind it is that I've been spending a lot of time with plants, since as long as I can remember.

Growing up in my grandparents’ house in India, their garden has always been my wonderland. Everyone in my family loves plants, so much so that when you tell them you are bored, they say “How can you be bored when you have all these plants to water and take care of?” My grandfather is an avid gardener. He had all sorts of plants in his garden. Given the part of the country we lived in, coconut palms were a must. Apart from those, we also had neem, pineapple, bananas, guavas, pepper, jackfruit, sandalwood, hibiscus, roses and a number of other plants and trees in the garden. At one point of time, we also had grape vines. The garden was and is an integral part of our lives, as dear to us as the house itself. As a kid, when I'd play pretend - kitchen with my friends, pretend - food would always come from the garden. I loved chopping up hibiscus buds! :D Growing up there, plants have been very, very dear to me. Even today when we see a bud in one of our rose bushes or pick a mango from the mango tree in our garden, the whole family rejoices!

Today, as I complain about the Saudi summer and miss my favorite season, I couldn’t help thinking about the life spring brings with it. I couldn’t help thinking about plants and the happiness they give me. I couldn’t help thinking about my grandparents’ garden.

P.S - These are pictures of flowers from our garden :)