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Ami Mehta

My left, your left; Your right, my right uh..huh !

About 80% of the world learns the difference between left and right in the age of 5 or 6. But then there is another 20% inclusive of me, who can’t tell their left from right.  Well, to start with, I am a medical researcher and have had an excellent formal education since schooling. Like any other weird and strange person on this planet, I perform tasks like anyone else and have certain set of qualities that makes me stand apart. Time and again, I have proved myself that I don’t know left from right. I am sure that I have this strange disorder in the left parietal lobe of my brain, where I can’t tell the difference nor tell the time from an analog clock. In addition to this, I can’t comprehend fractions nor is my judgment of measuring a distance right any day. In short, these symptoms direct to a brain disorder, dyscalculia.

Despite the special talent I possess, sometimes I tend to become the butt of all jokes. Once during my engineering, we had mechanical workshop, where we were supposed to wear covered shoes as personal protection equipment. As I see through my eyes, both my feet look the same to me. I don’t understand the difference in shape of my feet nor in the shoes people try to point out at me. So, it is obvious, I put the wrong shoe in the right foot and walked all over campus, till some idiot noticed it. Everybody had an uncontrollable laugh on that gift of mine. And the sarcasm continued for endless days after that. So, while wearing shoes, I always try both the shoes on my feet. Some lucky days I get it right, other days I survive through help. God bless the soul who made the buckled shoes! On conversing with someone, I keep lifting my right hand and say my left hand was injured, as result of which they end up in getting confused. Now that's the real talent, giving people a hint of how exactly you confused brain works ! While driving, I cannot really comprehend, when the passenger sitting next to me gives me directions in a hyper mode – go left, go right. I panic and stop my car. So, before driving, I ask the passenger to hold my hand if they want to go left and not if they prefer to go right. If someone asks me time, I really get confused to answer if the hands of the clock are somewhere in the middle of two numbers. For instance, I can’t tell time when it is 5.45 or 5.50. God bless thy soul, who created digital clocks. It’s been a boon to me as I can save myself from certain public embarrassments. Never a pro at mathematics, I used to dread exams, until I found to teach myself and keep my calm. But still, some days, when am asked suddenly, on finding out the share of bills, mentally in my mind, I write down numerator and denominator. Cancel it and find the quotient and reminder. That is how I get to my answer, even though if its bit delayed.

At one glance, I can never say if the shoe belongs to left foot or right foot or the time is 5.45. I need to give a close look, think, experiment and analyze, only then I am confident to express my opinion. I have tried to learn several times, but failed miserably. I have had my share of bad days. Now I take flaws in my stride and laugh at it, believing am exclusively exotic, to have a special talent that not everyone can possess, even if they wished to!  Now I laugh all along with others and sometimes tell it to people myself even before they discover my special talent. I have realized that every person has an inner flaw and sooner they make peace with it, sooner they will find ways to deal with it. Like, I found a way to tell left from right by memorizing that my left wrist has a tiny mole. But on certain bad days or rather nights, when light is low and I am unable to spot my mole.  I mess up, giving people another reason to laugh at me. Well, I keep people happy with my talent, and from the consequences of my confusion, I give them another good memory to cherish for lifetime.

When the tummy alarm goes off.....

India, a country with vast diversity, be it in terms of spirituality, culturally, ethnicity, clothing, and the most important, food. People hailing from different parts of the country come up with either different versions of same dish or an entirely new dish that is a specialty of a particular region or state. Travellers and wanderers have two things surely on their list, when they are travelling India. One is temples and the other is, you got me right, FOOD. We have a variety of dishes to offer, whether you are a vegan, eggatarian or hard core meat-eater.  My passion for education gave me a reason to interact with a variety of people from all over the country. And all these years being with them, I have realized that the only thing that can make you happy, whether you are in home state or anywhere else in world, it’s FOOD.

We have it all, from the royal dishes of Kashmir consisting of saffron and raisins to masaledaar chole batura of Delhi, siddhus fried in desi ghee of Himachal and the prominent makke ki roti and saarson ka saag of Punjab. Spicy Litty chokha chatni of Bihar, missal pav and chatpata sev puri of Bombay, scrumptilicious dalma of Odisha, the rolled out luchi puris and the never ending hunger for jhalmudi and puchkas of Kolkata. The kathiyawadi cuisine is very special to me, as it’s from my very own Gujarat and the Dal-bati-churma of Rajasthan with lasoon (garlic) chutney are served with utmost love. The hyderabadi biryani, Madras ka pongal and Karnataka ke dosas and the ultimate Malabar cuisine of Kerela are diverse in itself for the southern region of India. If this gastronomical journey was not enough, we have desserts like chenna pod from Odisha, lapsi from Gujarat, payasam from Madras, and remarkable rosagullas of Kolkata and gud ka halwa of Punjab. To digest it all, we have kimami gilori of Lucknow, culcutta paan, simple saunf and our home brand Hajmola, so that we are prepared to gulp down the next meal.

So as I said, I have a bunch of friends whom I can call foodies or a level further, gluttons. I love foodies, as it’s always comforting to eat with them and never bothering about the weighing scale. It annoys me, when people are too conscious and eat each morsel counting the number of calories. Probably, they are unaware of the language of taste buds. I have seen my friend, who travels miles to go to that one temple, just to eat the delicious pongal they serve. On reaching the temple and after finishing formalities, she hastily looks for a clean place in the front, so that she could be served a major portion of pongal. Inspite of her innumerous unsuccessful attempts to tame gas troubles, she loves to eat dhoklas and fermented food, thinking she’ll manage the gas trouble later. While another, loves the simple pakhala of Odisha and commits the sin of gluttony. She then applies Amrutanjan balm over her stomach, so that she can have more in the evening. When we plan to hang out and travel around the city, the first thing we ask to each other is, “hey, which place are we going to eat today?”

Cheers to puchkas !! Served with love by my mom !

Foodies are so insanely crazy about food that their girlfriends hardly matter to them. Once, a friend of mine was travelling through bus along with his girlfriend, when he spotted his favorite restaurant on the run. He immediately got down the next stop, obligating his girlfriend also to get down. He ran behind just to relish the yummy Kuzhi paniyarams. In some relationships, only one is a foodie, while in another, the couple is foodie to an extent that, they have competition for gulping down the most spaghetti in Noodle King. And in some relationships, when the girlfriend brings a whopping 30 theplas for all his friends at hostel, he hides it from all and savors it alone with his roommate. The 10 minute madness when my lunch box was opened and then the satisfaction that one morsel of food brings is priceless. The ultimate joy lies in sharing food and seeing those happy faces blessing the one who cooked it with love.

So share food and create memorable experiences, because humanity bonds are made stronger when the tummy is happy with yummy food.  

If this gastronomical journey of India was not enough, wait till I someday write down about my experience in a Multicultural festival in Canberra, Australia, where around 75 countries participate exhibiting their special and renowned dishes, serving it with love.

The hilarious wrongs before stumbling upon the Mr./Miss. Right

Wedding season is almost on an end and fresh set of people are preparing themselves for their destiny to shine upon. Step one of arranged marriages is the matching an endless list of criteria set by the parents as well as the potential candidate. Parents usually have the same set of concerns, for example, caste, religion, family background, financial stability and horoscope. However, the potential guy/girl has set some standards in their mind, which they usually look for when they meet their partner. This usually depends on what they expect from life. Those days are long gone, when parents used to decide without giving enough time for the potential bride and the groom to ponder about their compatibility. Nowadays, much space is given by the parents to allow their children to know the person they are going to settle down for lifetime. Some are lucky, that they find their perfect match at once, while some go through the drill of meeting various people, ending up in bewilderment of their already perplexed minds. 

So before meeting Mr./Miss. Right, the candidates go through certain hilarious situation, which makes the journey of finding their partner worthwhile. A few accounts of my friends leaves me in a guffaw, imagining someday even I'll be going through the knife of arranged meetings.

It so happened once, that one friend of mine was requested to meet at railway station along with the family. The groom’s family couldn't come up with better restaurant or park, as some minister was recently arrested and there was much hullabaloo about it. So the family met outside railway station and while the family was seated in waiting room, the boy and the girl were talking outside a bank to understand each other’s' compatibility. Another friend of mine, who aspired to study after marriage, met an NRI. So she casually asked, if she could continue her studies after marriage. A lame reply came from NRI that there were no good colleges in their country, when there were 2 of Ivy League universities in his home country.

A guy was perplexed to choose the girl who drinks and smokes once in a while, when he had never experienced the elixir of life. While in another case, the girl did not want her potential Mr. Right harboring such 'bad' habits. Probably, wrong person at the wrong place! Brought up in an international school, my cousin spoke less of her mother tongue.' So he asked in English, "Do you have any siblings?” to which he replied, "Yeah, I reside with my parents". You can blame this on nervousness though. In one case, the guy was saint-like, while the girl did not believe in idol worship. He expected her to volunteer in such spiritual organizations. But hailing from free-spirited background, she took a turn, never to look back.

 So in a nutshell, there are matches made by the family and then there are matches made by the potential candidates. Usually, the guy or girl willing to settle down for arranged marriage, looks for a match in compatibility of thoughts and their expectations from future. With such incidents, the heart says an instant ‘no’, but expects life will be fair and treat them when the time is right.

P.S: None of the incidents are described to offend anyone. But, then we usually come across such people, as we are little insane ourselves.