The Soup Salvation.

India is a tropical country most parts of the year.But for three months,i.e., December to February,it's a paradise for winter loving people like us.I love winters.The colder it is,the better I live.I say that because my mother once rebuked me and said I should have been born in Canada or Kashmir.I have no patience for the heat.My body doesn't cope well with hea.But that's not the end of my woes.My body is also very hostile towards artificial cooling.It hates Air-conditioners...Yeah,yeah..go and drop your jaw elsewhere,because it's a terrible achilles' heel I realise that.Hence I used to wait for the loving months of December,January and February when my body,my skin,my hair were all perfectly blooming and glowing in leaps and bounds.

Now even that seems to be a fairy tale because after marriage I'm currently residing in Singapore.Now if you are a girl who is reading this blog then you must be jumping when you read this.And if you are a guy,you must be smiling unabashedly at the thought of how legs are not the devil here and the amount of " sight seeing" a guy can do and pleasure his eyes in a place like this...it's very nice.Unfortunately for me,none of the above mentioned happy facts apply to me.For though I'm a girl I hate shopping.Yes,yes...go laugh but my husband will vouch for that.I literally hate shopping.I am not an impulsive shopper.Rather a sensible one.Hence Singapore with all its attractions of Versache,Jimmy Choo,Dior,Valentino and Ralph Lauren has been unable to provide me any solace.And because I'm not a guy so the "Sight Seeing" doesn't really apply to me.Hence Singapore with it's designer paradise and Air-conditioners are a mess for me.I crave the winter days my family will soon start enjoying once the temperatures drop in Kolkata.And the amazing culinary feasts my mother will prepare ranging from motorsutir kochuri(green peas stuffed deep fried Indian bread) to pithe(pithas).

But then God is not entirely cruel.I know that he can't give me winters in SG (though with the concerning rise in Global Warming,who knows..someday that might happen too),he has blessed SG with rains.And what rains.I means I have seen days when the sun is hot rays of the sun are breathing down my neck and suddenly it starts raining buckets and I have been forced to switch-off the aircon and take protection under the sheets.And so on such days when the weather is cool and nice,my winter or rather monsoon salvation is SOUP.

Now you must admit that soup has the innate ability to transform you into the realm of cold.Like the moment you are having soup,your body sends a signal to the brain that its cold or that suddenly the temperatures have dropped and you end up feeling all glowing and mushy.I love soups because they transport me back home where on winter nights,my mother would really refrain from asking me and my brother what we would like for dinner lest we choose something which might make her go to the kitchen and cook.On winter nights,especially in Kolkata where the temperatures drop to a decent 12 degrees,who wants to get out of bed and cook.So she would patiently wait till it was almost 9 p.m. and then purring like a cat,ask us gingerly what we would like for dinner.We,having caught her intentions mid-air,would say soup.And off she would march into the kitchen,open a packet of Knoor Soup and adding specific quantities of veggies,protein and butter make us a beautiful soup which we would lick off the bowls.I still don't know if the packet of soup powder was indeed so tasty or the way my mother had prepared it,but that soup was yummylicious.

Hence making soups in Sg has actually been my way to somehow in a silly and nostalgic way reconnect to my family back India and to my mother.I marched to Mustafa and bought Knoor soup packets in dozens.I currently boast of a very good collection of kitchen staples and a good part of it is filled up with Knoor soup packets ranging from the normal Creamy Mushroom to the rather exotic Seafood soup.And although I have watched enough TLC to know how to make a soup stand out,my experienced hands fail miserably to bring out that flavour of the soup which my mother did.

I guess when you think about it in the end,you realise it's got nothing to do with the soup packets or the butter or cream you add....The only thing that transforms a normal soup to something of epic proportions with it's deliciousness and aromas and feel good factor is a mother's love for her children.And how I miss that!



Miss u Ma.............everyday.