This is in response to Sadje's Weekly Photo Prompts on #Whatdoyousee
Also in response to Poets And Storytellers United Optional Prompt : Desserts
Post COVID we were relieved - unmasked! Those thin veils covered half the faces except the eyes. As if we couldn't get infected by sight or infect the others with our eyes. Now, with the masks 'blown off' I miss those half hidden faces. That flimsy barrier which gave an honest peek into what was endeavoured to be kept undisclosed. The face is not the index of the mind. Eyes are...And the eyes gave away even with the masks on...
When we were small summer nights had their own charm. In the evenings, pails and pails of water were poured on the heated terrace. It didn't take much time for the water to evaporate cooling the floor on which were placed thin mattresses and soft sheets at night after dinner. Some days a soothing breeze blew while on others the weather remained dry. Pedestal fans were much in use in those days - nobody had heard of coolers or air conditioners. We slept underneath an inky blue sky counting stars and wondering what lay beyond the periphery of this earth and why didn't the moon drop off on the ground tired of smiling from afar.
Some nights a sudden dust storm, called aandhi, would wake us up in the middle of the night followed by big drops of rain. We'd pick up our beddings and rush for shelter either to our bedrooms on the floor below or to the room next to the terrace called the barsaati - a room to save ourselves from getting drenched in the rains or barsaat.
Now, as evening approaches we shut the doors and the windows, draw the curtains and switch on the AC. Sometimes even the AC is not good enough as the barometer crosses fifty degrees. We sweat , toss and turn in bed and pray for the rains to come and cool off the heat.
In the sky outside the stars feel lonely and the moon wonders whether it would be better to slide through that window where a little baby sleeps under the mosquito net. But the windows are closed. The baby is restless. And the Milky Way has just lost its way...
In response to Poet's And Storytellers United's Prompt: Dessert
For every season we have a different dessert in this part of the globe. In summers, as we are having now, it's ice creams - at times home churned - kulfi, especially, matka kulfi - iced milk frozen in an earthen pot - payesh - rice in condensed sweetened milk with nuts and raisins. My mother would substitute the rice with ras bharis or mini rasgullas, the white ones and gulab jamuns, the black ones, to commemorate special family celebrations like birthdays. What about cold coffee with two big scoops of vanilla ice cream? Or a cool cool ice cream soda - lime ice or choco chip ?
In winters, it's hot chocolate or coffee with sugar, milk and cream - capuchino is it ? Or hot gulab jamuns or jalebis or imartis, straight out of the wok with a generous pouring of sugar syrup.
Being a true blue Bengali I can go on about desserts or mishti - we rather excel in that department. Winter is also the time when we have date jaggery with hot roti - a kind of wheat bread. This type of jaggery is only available for a very short time. So every sweet has to have a fair portion of it - rassagollahs and taal shaash sandesh, kara pak or naram pak.
Then there are desserts which are evergreen irrespective of seasons like halwa or laddus or barfis - with a change of ingredients and condiments specific to the season.
So whenever you think of a lavish Indian cuisine think of desserts too or as it is called mishtimukh. That's Bengali. In Hindi, which is the lingua franca of Northern India, they say, "chalo bhai kuchh meetha ho jaaye." - Let's end it with something sweet.
And believe me for every ocassion there is something special to tickle your taste buds. And every family has a secret recipe or two passed down for generations like heirlooms.
I am leaving it to your imagination as writing about all of them will make the post never ending.
So let's sweeten it up our own way...what say you ?
Shared with Poets And Storytellers United
