The Circle Of Happiness

                                             

I owe Kenny Sebastian for his hilarious and spot-on take on this subject ( Why the Dosa is Amazing : Kenny Sebastian : Stand Up Comedy). I’ve watched it many number of times not just because it’s true but a nexus of memories that is connected to this staple diet of ours. My earliest memory of Dosa (I feel it should be spelt “Dhosha”, though ‘Dosa’ looks a wee bit more stylish), begins during my schooldays particularly after there has been two school going kids in the house. Though our school was a twenty minutes drive from our house, we had to be ready by seven thirty in the morning for, our school bus would pick us up first, then go to places far and wide. As a result we had to undergo a great ordeal of travelling ensuing trouble for our mother as well. We never packed the usual fare of rice and its accompaniments to school; it was mostly what we had for breakfast. Easy to handle and less of mess we preferred it to rice, which was usually eaten after we returned in the evening. 

For all the above-mentioned reasons, idli and dosa were proclaimed as a staple in our home (minimum of four days a week would qualify for the indispensable). Sunday afternoons would be exclusive for grinding rice and urad dal for either idly or dosa, which ran its show alternately. Like most, we preferred Dosa, even when she made idlis resembling clouds.

We took them with a wide and bizarre range of accompaniments, in all possible permutations and combinations. There would be the gracious sambar, followed by pickles, chicken, egg or fish. They all worked wonderful with dosa. Even before Empire Hotel in Bangalore introduced their famous chicken dosa, we had already tasted the best version of it, I bet. When we ran short of the curry, we would have it plain, with ghee and sugar, which felt heavenly. To bring restaurant home, she would even try her own version of masala dosa. The filling or the masala would be yellowish orange with all possible vegetables and bits of peanuts or cashews that we would bite into occasionally. Not to forget the instant wheat variety called 'gothambu dosa'(it's fanbase is rather weak unlike the normal variety, but I like them),which could be made within no time. Topped with a sinful amount of ghee and sugar, each bite meant utter bliss.

And then years later I reach Chennai. I never got tired of eating Dosa. I would wait for Wednesday nights when they served hot, thin, crisp dosas for dinner. When I changed my place of stay, where I didn’t find solace in the dosa she served, I would end up ordering Dosa, whenever we went out to eat. It was a comfort food on the healthier and tastier side. Your stomach and your purse are at ease. As I write this I crave for the Dosa and the wonderful chutneys I savored at Murugan Idli shop.

They are the ultimate comfort, in a circle like karma; if you have tried making a dosa  you will know what I mean. What goes around comes around!!