Alternately flimsy and knobby, an amoeboid dosa splattered on the frying pan; with a little batter running down the ladle and crusting on my arm. Comic-strip sweat beads glistened on my forehead. Few of the dosas I could cradle in my palm, while others occupied the entire pan. Size notwithstanding, the aroma and the taste were familiar; making the whole effort worthwhile.
The batter was homemade.
The Dosa Batter 1 part brown rice, 1 part urad dal, 1 part moong dal, 1/2 part Chana dal, 1/2 part masoor dal, 2tbsp flaxseed powder, 1 tsp salt; soaked for a couple of hours, ground and fermented overnight. Served with onion and tomato chutney.
Oiled my hair.
Sharpened my pencils.
Ate a spoonful of butter and died happy
Wore my favorite t-shirt; it features a typewriter.
Read Optic Nerve for a while.
Listened to songs from Studio Ghibli’s ‘My neighbor Totoro’