Shiuli Season

 

When we moved into the ground floor apartment in Gurgaon, one of the first trees we planted was the Shiuli, more commonly known as the Harshingar or Parijat. Though my mother always had a shiuli plant in her well-maintained container garden, it had been a cherished wish of mine to have a shiuli tree of our own. Those lusciously fragrant dainty white flowers with their characteristic orange stems that fell as a carpet at the first touch of the sun tugged at my heartstrings. The sheer number of flowers laden on a tree planted directly in soil took the experience to another level. Those flowers and their heady fragrance held a lot of pleasant memories - of pujo, of the change of seasons and the onset of autumn, of my very identity as a Bengali. 

Shiuli flowers from our tree

The shiuli is a fairly large and tall tree, and an evergreen. It grows rapidly in the monsoon and requires a good pruning, so the flowers can come by autumn. But the flowering happens for only about a month in the entire year. And that month coincides with the peak festival season in most parts of India. Another reason why a glimpse of those flowers has happy associations.

Now the shiuli we planted in our front lawn started flowering right from the second year, giving us handfuls of white and orange every morning during season. As soon as the first rays of the sun touched the flowers, they would start dropping off, creating a fragrant carpet on the grass underneath. So we had a tradition of picking these flowers early morning, as soon as one was through with the morning ablution. Or sometimes between sips of hot tea. It was a revered tradition since the Bengali associate the shiuli flowering with the rise of the Divine Feminine.

Family tradition of Shiuli picking

But each morning as I plucked the shiuli, a few flowers invariably landed on the aloe vera shrub next to it. And aloe has thorns. Every attempt to reach the fragile shiuli flowers and brush them off the aloe reminded me of simple life lessons.

That much like life, the good and bad, the soft and the prickly, always show up together. And we have to navigate through the thorns to get to the beautiful flowers. Just like in life we have to wade through the unpleasant doggedly to get to enjoy a span of charming times. Then again, life is mostly mundane; the high points come only once in a while, like the festive season. And like the flowers of the shiuli. 

The last of the Shiuli flowers this year

So enjoy the good while it lasts, like the month-long shiuli season.

Chorchori Chronicles

Traditionally the Bengali staple mixed veg preparation called chorchori is supposed to have potatoes and spinach along with any three seasonal vegetables. As my mother taught me, there are five main players, hence the alternate name paanch-mishuli. So in winters, veggies like radish and cauliflower routinely make it to the chorchori mix, while in summers one finds bitter gourds, brinjals and pumpkins getting added.

Now here I was cooking chorchori in the rains, so the essential spinach was missing. It is anyway advisable not to consume these greens during monsoon as they spoil faster and host a few creepy crawlies. So I decided to try leaves from my moringa tree instead. Totally not kosher, as any Bengali mashima would tell you! 

Moringa tree in the backyard 

But while being experimental I discovered that the moringa leaves added an interesting nutty flavour to the chorchori. Also since they grow high above the ground unlike spinach, their leaves do not get spoilt by the rain. And, their health benefits are many. 

A closer view of our moringa forest

Moringa is a hardy tree, pretty resistant to the vagaries of the weather. Then why not give a modern twist to the traditional chorchori and enjoy it every season. If the spinach is unable to pull through our current climate change, an alternative is on hand already.

Celebrating April

 

April is always a busy and festive sort of month in our home. Sharing with you some glimpses of the month...

The first week we celebrate a birthday, and the next week we mark the anniversary of our move along with the start of the Bengali new year. 

This is also the month when the onset of summer becomes evident and the garden is full of the seasonal blossoms before the hot winds of May and June make everything barren. 

Our home has always been blessed with bowls full of sweet-smelling blossoms -- shiulis in autumn and bel or jasmine in summers. A tradition started by my mother and one that we happily continue.

For this year's new year celebration we served square rava idlis along with avocado on toast, a first for us. The avo guacamole turned out delicious and creamy and the idli-chutney combo made a hearty meal. Of course we prepared the traditional payesh too but forgot to click a picture.

Winter Flora and Fauna

The cold has been pretty brutal this year, mostly because we have hardly seen any sunshine. What should have been a cheery first post in the new year actually got to the finish line only because I had done my homework in the last month itself, when the sun was still out and the year-end festive feels kept up my mood somehow.

Indian Pioneer butterfly 🦋

All the creatures you see here have long disappeared due to the intense cold, fog and sunless days. So have the flowers...

But just a month back the skies were so clear and blue, that it appeared every creature was in celebratory mode. Including our national bird, that gave us quite a few grand appearances on our evening walks.

Proud peacock 🦚

While our chrysanthemums were blooming, this fellow would appear almost every day to bask in the sunshine. But once the weather turned grey and bleak, the poor guy turned black and sluggish, trying to warm itself on our front porch.

Garden gecko 🦎

I was intrigued by the colour of its wings, and initially mistook it for a bumblebee variety. Till I discovered it's real identity and saw it furiously collecting nectar from whatever blossoms it could find.

Carpenter bee 🐝

Finally a glimpse of our Lohri bonfire this year to beat the cold. Was a very short window of relief but we made good memories.

Praying for the sun to be out soon and for the soul-withering cold to abate.

Upholding Culinary Traditions

 

Growing up, my mother always made something special for the Republic Day holiday. Most often it would be the winter staple koraishutir kochuri (a fried flatbread with flavoured peas stuffing). This would be accompanied by aloor dom (a tangy preparation using boiled potatoes), a favourite in most Bengali households. 

This was a tradition that Ma carried forward from her growing-up years in Shimla. Back then Republic Day had even more significance since the previous generation had lived through the freedom struggle.

After she left, I kept craving the koraishutir kochuri through the winters but could not gather the confidence to try making them myself. The meal required some work, time and patience, and all were in short supply in the intervening years.

Finally this year, a whole seven years after she went away, my craving got the better of me, and I resolved to try making koraishutir kochuri. Making the peas stuffing is fairly easy. Filling up the dough balls with the right amount, and then rolling them out perfectly is the tough part. The first attempt went by better than expected and so, on Republic Day I finally prepared a second batch of my favourite meal of winters. Along with aloor dom, of course. And some halwa for dessert.

Thus upholding a much-loved culinary tradition started by my amazing mother. 😍 Needless to say, the family loved it.