I was introduced to Dal Pakwaan in 1990 at a place called Ulhasnagar which has a fascinating story of giving refuge to refugees and becoming a town buzzing with small scale and cottage industries making the local populace a hard working and prosperous lot. I visited the place at the invitation of a delightful family to help them with their marketing efforts and have since been very involved with them and their clientele.
I stayed at a hotel there for a couple of nights visiting a number of the Agent’s customers during the two days and on the second morning the agent took me to have dal pakwaan at a famous local eatery where we were joined by a number of his friends and some members of his family as well. On many subsequent visits to Ulhasnagar, I always made it a point to have at least one breakfast in the same restaurant.
In Pune, the dish is not easily available and we have to go to a suburb, Pimpri to get them. I often get someone to bring them from there or have gone there on a few occasions to have this delicious and filling dish.
My memory of this dish has been triggered by this BBC article on a Real Estate tycoon, who belongs to the Sindhi community which brought this dish to India from Pakistan.
I just can’t help loving this man. Please do spend just over eight minutes watching and listening to this very well made video.
Tomorrow is Sunday. The day on which, without fail, my Godson ND will call me in the morning to check if I am still alive and kicking. My readers will recollect ND from my post Memory Trigger 7, The Runaway.
Last Sunday, during the usual weekly phone conversation, ND suggested that I see a movie called Samsara and offered to send me his copy of a DVD of the film. The context was how human beings can be vulnerable to temptation as on one of his teasing moods he had suggested that I look for a girl friend to give me company for the rest of my life. On my being unresponsive, he suggested that I see this movie.
On investigating Samsara the movie, I discovered that it was all about a Tibetan monk and I was intrigued. I found a full length offering on Youtube and saw it earlier this evening.
It is a remarkable movie, which has won many international awards; very sensitively made and if you are as intrigued as I was, it is worth spending the two hours and twenty minutes before a computer seeing it. You can of course have as many breaks as you want as I took as well. I had not heard about the director Pan Nalin and am very glad to have been able to see his, this spectacular work.
You will get to see spectacular scenery of the Ladakh area of our Himalayas and some monasteries there. You will also see some excellent acting and direction apart from the photography.
I wish you happy viewing if you have not already seen it.
Young Pravin with one foot into spiritualism and the rest of his body firmly in materialism, has suggested the topic for this week’s LBC Friday post. I hope that I don’t disappoint him with my take on the subject.
I personally have no experience of any of my dreams becoming realities. I don’t remember most of my dreams anyway.
I shall leave my readers with this link to a very interesting article on the subject and the following two quotations to deal with the subject as I don’t think that I can do justice to it by being original.
“Once upon a time, I dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was myself. Soon I awaked, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man.”
~ Zhuangzi, The Butterfly as Companion: Meditations on the First Three Chapters of the Chuang-Tzu.
“It’s at night, when perhaps we should be dreaming, that the mind is most clear, that we are most able to hold all our life in the palm of our skull. I don’t know if anyone has ever pointed out that great attraction of insomnia before, but it is so; the night seems to release a little more of our vast backward inheritance of instincts and feelings; as with the dawn, a little honey is allowed to ooze between the lips of the sandwich, a little of the stuff of dreams to drip into the waking mind. I wish I believed, as J. B. Priestley did, that consciousness continues after disembodiment or death, not forever, but for a long while. Three score years and ten is such a stingy ration of time, when there is so much time around. Perhaps that’s why some of us are insomniacs; night is so precious that it would be pusillanimous to sleep all through it! A bad night is not always a bad thing.”
~ Brian W Aldiss.