JEDDAH, KSA
No matter where I may roam there is only one place that my heart calls home… Jeddah Jeddah is dil ki jaan tu hi hai, Jeddah you are the soul of my heart! It's not perfect but no place ever is or will be, I grew up in this city it's my “hometown”! There are so many memories people who grew up here can relate to, only they can understand. I can't even begin to pen down my memoirs without getting all choked up with nostalgia. Where do I start with, do I start with my most awesome school experience I had, or do I start with all my amazing like minded family friend's circle, or maybe the food. Maybe I should start with the one thing that is lost. The one thing I use to enjoy and boast about… the one thing I miss most from my childhood when I think about Jeddah when I visit it now, something that would identify it. That one thing was it's array of roundabouts. At every cross roads there would be roundabouts, now someone living in the UK would think "and your point is, London is the city of roundabouts you shouldn't miss it", but these weren't just painted on the ground like UK. There was a unique feature on each and every one. Something that was so Jeddah something that we would identify as us and us as it. You knew where you were exactly looking at the roundabout in front of you. Directions would be given with the reference of these monuments on these roundabouts. All that is now lost. I can no longer say I live near “taiyaara chowk”. Newcomers to the city would look at me thinking I'm coo coo, they just don't know. Bar “cycle chowk” and a few others dotted near the coast, all the rest have been slowly but surely gone. How I miss driving by them! Or rather being driven by them, because yes soon the next generation will never know days of male only drivers. A New era is at its dawn, the dawn of the female drivers in Saudi. A thought which once was the joke of the town, people in the west would say “when pigs will fly… “ people in Saudi would say “when women will drive…” it was considered that impossible an ask, but here we stand at the doorway to the world of impossible. A new age for women in Saudi.
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O My beloved Bihari family, help me bring Bihar back to me… It's been lost along our journeys it's been hidden away behind the glossed over Englishes… But deny it all one wants, it lives and breathes within our soul... It shines through our every dish It laughs with our every story… Please help me preserve it for our future generations… our ancestral stories are getting lost with every passing of our elders.. Our oh so proudly flashed around eclectic taste buds are losing out on culinary treats once our grandmas used to slave away in kitchens to make… Our lifestyle maybe different now, our fancy gadgetry may save us from the painstaking ways of our ancestral cuisine, but if we don't save it now, dishes which we have once tasted in our childhood or sadly have now only heard names of, will be lost forever…. For our future gens, let's come together and document our heritage together... Any stories any recipes please help me preserve them and make them accessible for all our children to read, enjoy, use and be proud of…. I wish to take no credit for anyone else's work I will accredit each piece with its rightful authors… my dream is to only preserve and spread… I thank you all in advance, even if you have nothing to share on the site itself, please share and enjoy this space with all your families, this legacy belongs to us all it yearns to be shared! It's time we brought Bihar into the limelight it deserves….
My love of "Britishness" extends far before my arrival in this country.
I have been forever in love with the flavour that the British bring to the world. My romance with the days long ago, when men dressed as proper gentlemen and women in their fancy gowns with hats gloves and fans. An era that though is from long ago still lives and thrives deep within the British soul. Our "properness", in any ceremonies, our fuss and pomp with all the uniforms and parades; the spectacular display of the red arrows on special occasions; all the history and heritage that is preserved, lived and relived and cherished in our modern lives. This is what I love most about the British Culture: we keep the past alive!
Just like every tide that rolls in must roll out
Every visiting soul to earth must clock out, Tides come and go but leave an impression on earth of their presence so. Some impression stand strong the test of time, whilst others quietly dissipate away, leaving but a sweet memory of their existence in the harmony of their moment. But each grain of sand that is visited by the tide is washed by its love, nourished by its offerings and assisted with its journey, for however long their companionship tis meant to be. You are but a grain of sand in everyone's story, but a tide in your own, be the tide that rolls in with affection, full of nourishment, not the tsunami to cause chaos and disruption. Be the grain that supports in unison the weight of every passing tide, Be the grain that stands witness to the love and grace of every story in which you part take. The sea is salty no doubt, but remember not the taste of the salt but the replenishment that it provided to your thirsty soul.
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