Anjali Dilip Trasi Strawberry Jam

 Method: Wash and roughly chop the Strawberries 

. Blend them roughly in a blender / Mixer. Measure the pulp, add this in a non stick huge pan. Add to it equal quantity of sugar . You may add a little 2 tbsp of water in the mixer, and add this in the pan. Squeeze 1/2 a lemon, Cook the mixture , stirring well, till it thickens to a Jam point. To check, the Jam point, add 1/2 a spoon of the cooked mixture on a steel plate, then tilt it a little. If the mixture doesn’t run down like liquid, then the jam point is achieved. The mixture should just move a little like a thick cooked gravy. Then touch the cooked jam mixture with your pointer finger, touch it with your thumb, bring the fingers apart, repeatedly bring them together and apart, you’ll see the jam as a thick string. That’s the Jam Point. Put off the gas, cover the pan with a thin , clean , kitchen cloth, ( don’t cover with a lid, as it’ll form moisture on the inner side of the lid, and fall into the cooked jam) This will spoil the jam soon. After the cooked mixture / jam cools, put this in clean dry bottles, and store in the fridge ( as we haven’t added preservatives, colors or Pectin) My jam remains in the fridge for more than a year . Enjoy  

Three Girls.....Standing stranded at a car service station

 THREE GIRLS

Good Morning

Standing stranded at a car service station,

waiting because of a punctured tyre, I watched

three young girls

loiter into the open service station

like clueless rustic women

trying to look abreast of the urban style,

wearing a mask of nonchalance,

they ambled timorously into the parking lot

and stationed themselves for some suspicious, clandestine rendezvous.

They were not the callous type with deadened nerves, with aggressive animosity

to the world of men swaggering around.

Not unduly perturbed by the conflicting voices of morality and the need of the life they had chosen to live

they were waiting for the client who had paid for the night.

There was neither fear nor expectancy,

no vile puerile curiosity.

They were restless because they had to guard themselves

against the rabid smiles and the insinuating gestures of the passers-by.

One of them had a coy demure face of a bride,

and another had a matronly wise look of a woman who knew

what love was all about.

The other two shifted their weight

from one leg to the other

and then one of them impatiently surged forward to see if the client's car arrived.

In the meantime, girls of their age walked past in haste

talking and gesticulating on their smartphones

wildly, eloquently, arguing fiercely with all the passion they knew

over how they were right and the other wrong,

oblivious of what was going around.

The three girls stood like magi

waiting outside the cottage on a wintry night of Christ's birth,

two of them wringing their hands in a cold dismay

and the wise one smiling knowledgeably,

maintaining a wonderful equanimity.

For a few seconds

the streaming traffic blocked my view

and when the sight was cleared they had already disappeared into a red car that turned around and went past me.

I missed the chance to see how they went, with what kind of a feeling toward their fate, like prisoners taken to the noose, or slaves walking to the galley, or with an indifferent gratitude.

Three young girls on the brink of life!

Sushama Karnik

Apr 20, 2016

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Prem Kumar Gutty

Good flow. While I believe in good morality and 100% commitment between partners, modern society seems to be moving towards pleasures as passing moments.

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