Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Magnificent Mangoes, cool cottons and sunny skies

Am really bad when it comes to writing(read blogging) regularly
and can think of 1101 excuses for not writing n I also know that no one is interested in listening to them (1101 is a long list after all)
but couldn’t disappoint searchinformrmojorisin.

For the nth time Deccan Chronicle’s headlines glare “rain lashes twin cities” – someone please ask the DC ppl to find new phrases to welcome the onset of Monsoon in Hyderabad. And for the benefit of those who r not from Hyd’bad, if you thought Times is full of trash u must read DC which is a step ahead of it and infact when it comes to gossip even the good old housewives bow down to DC.

So having waved goodbye to another of the scorching summers of Hyd’bad lemme dedicate this blog to it.
You hear it everywhere – in office cubicles, in boardrooms, in between client meetings, in shopping malls, in restaurants – “When would the summer end? Isn’t it too hot these days?” -if someone was to take the help of statistics, roughly a third of our waking time is spent on discussing the weather during the summers.
Is it only my weird self who enjoys these summers (no no I’m no masochist)?
After reading this, I bet u wud also fall in love with Hyd’bad summers as well.

The roads seem so silvery and full of mirages (my note: go for long drives on the Durgam Cheruvu road).
The juicy watermelons – best when taken chilled (my note: take it in any form – juice, fruit pieces or squash)
Mangoes – all variants of it (my note: dun miss the Avakai pickle made out of raw mangoes)
Palms – really cools ur body (my note: buy the entire palm and scoop the fruit out with a fork)
Sugarcane juice – saccharine sweet (my note: a personal recipe is to mix ½ glass tender coconut water and ½ glass sugarcane juice with some lemon and ginger)
Cucumbers – all those salads, which we can munch on (my note: try the Russian salad in the Viceroy buffet)
Starchy cotton dresses (my note: a visit to FabIndia is a must, to pick all those cool cotton tops for girls and kurtas for guys)
Melting Moments – the sunshine ice-cream parlor (in yellow) on B.Hills (my note: the chikoo ice cream is a no-miss)
Smell of khus-khus mats hung on the balcony doors (my note: best when a cool breeze flows in gently)
Desert coolers in all living rooms and ACs in bedrooms (my note: never mind the huge electricity bills after all itz only a matter of 3 months)
Chilled Beer parties with wholesome goodies (my note: with frendz on Sunday afternoon brunches)
Bring out the floral colors of peach, pinks and lavenders –from accessories to shoes to bags (my note: if u r the “if u have it flaunt it” types then flash those short skirts and shorter tops)

So given a choice between grey winters and sunny summers, I bet u wud choose the latter. Of course the monsoon heralds different flavors altogether (hot samosas, fried corn, masala chai …) but then that wud b another blog altogether.


Crouching Tigress said...

Yupiee you mentioned me in your post! *fluttering eyes*..thankyou! Hehehe. Im quite a sucker for lists. I would definitely read that post, if you were decide to blog abt it ;). Times IS full of trash. Trashiest newspaper in India. Deccan in Blore isnt bad dude. Aah summer in India. Im hungry now and yeah I miss fabindia! And I most definitely will miss monsoon :((. Ok my comment is really long today..oops..Thanks for the new post :) laters

the still dancer said...

Would you be the same fire-brand leftist who so liket my rejoinders to greatbong on the amit varma post?

fiona said...

good points to change perspective on hyd summers :)..in any case hyd rocks!!

Swathi said...

hey crouching tigress
how can i not mention the source of my inspiration :)

Swathi said...

hi kaash
nope i'm not the fire-brand leftist(in fact i dun even know wat it means)
is it another case of mistaken identity?

Swathi said...

hi fio
yaa Hyd definetly rocks (both literaly and figuratively!)

Rabin said...

Mangoes!!! I love em!!!

Swathi said...

@r - mangoes...hmm.. yaa summers r not the same without them