Roti Quotes

Listen to your kuya, sister. Got three type kilikili.” He raises his finger. “One, that kano armpit smell like butter, burger, dollar; two, that Chinese intsik one smell like noodles, siopao, yuan; three, that bumbay one bad smell like roti, curry, rupee. Next time, find a kano who smells like butter, burger, or dollar. Curry not good. Rupee also not good, ba.

Kalau mahu melihat kehebatan seseorang, lihatlah perlakuannya apabila dia sedang marah. Apakah dia akan membalas balik kemarahan tersebut dengan kemarahan atau sebaliknya.

Manto's take on Ismat: "Ismat’s pen and tongue both run fast. When she starts writing, her ideas race ahead and the words cannot catch up with them. When she speaks, her words seem to tumble over one another. If sheenters the kitchen to show her culinary skill, everything will be in a mess. Being hasty by nature, she would conjure up the cooked roti in her mind even before she had finished kneading the dough. The potatoes would note yet be peeled although she would have already finished making the curry in her imagination. I feel sometimes she may just go into the kitchen andcome out again afer being satiated by her imagination.

Bagaimana cantik, bijak, kaya dan datang dari keluarga yang bagus sekalipun, jika perempuan itu bukan seorang yang beragama dan solehah, maka nilainya kosong

Kenangan perlu ada dalam hidup untuk dikenang, ditertawakan dan menjadi warisan ingatan kepada anak keturunam

Kita hanyalah remah-remah roti yang dikerbuti sesemut dalam stoples semesta (yang hanya bisa berpasrah pada bagaimana takdir bekerja sesuai tugasnya.

Bukan berarti karena tinggal di jalanan lantas tidak bisa berpikir lebih dari sekedar teh dan dua potong roti.

Apakah aku masih mengharapkan sesuatu dari ibuku selain apa yang sudah ia berikan kini? Tak juga senyum samar, airmata atau kesedihan yang ia sembunyikan dari diriku. Itu seperti kerinduan yang tidak terlukiskan. Kerinduan yang tak bisa terungkap lewat kata, lagu atau bahkan puisi. Ia selalu seperti itu. Seperti mendung yang tak membawa hujan. Angin sepoi sepoi yang kadang meninabobokkan diriku. Masih ia mengirim cintanya tatakala tahu bila aku terlambat pulang. Atau saat ia termangu di depan pintu ketika aku terlanjur tenggelam dalam lamunan kamar buta. Ia tetap saja rajin mengoleskan mentega ke atas roti yang aku santap buat sarapan pagi. Dan air panas yang ia jerang di atas kompor tak lebih hangat dari bisikannya menjelang waktu waktu di mana aku tengah sibuk memikirkan diriku sendiri. Ia tetap saja ibu, lebih dari semua ibu ibu lain yang aku kenal. Hanya kepadanya aku sanggup menangis. Seperti hujan yang tak lagi mengenal musim.

Lelaki yang tengah menyetubuhi si gadis segera mencabut kemaluannya, meninggalkan bunyi "splosh" yang menjijikan, dan berlari dengan wajah sepucat roti busuk, diikuti ketiga temannya.

Sebelum Pergi: Ketika senja mulai larut, roti ini kupotong menjadi dua bagian sama banyak dan kuletakan di atas meja sana; satu untuk aku simpan satu lagi aku tinggalkan, lalu aku pergi tak harap kembali.

One day my ama will die. Everything that she ever was will die with her. The way she walked quickly, and flour in her hair when she made roti, the lines in her forehead when she yelled at me for doing something stupid. Her Saturday morning parathas and her smell, cardamom and Pine-sol and lotion.

Biju stepped out of the airport into the Calcutta night, warm, mammalian. His feet sank into dust winnowed to softness at his feet, ad he felt an unbearable feeling, sad and tender, old and sweet like the memory of falling asleep, a baby on his mother's lap. Thousands of people were out though it was almost eleven. He saw a pair of elegant bearded goats in a rickshaw, riding to slaughter. A conference of old men with elegant goat faces, smoking bidis. A mosque and minarets lit magic green in the night with a group of women rushing by in burkas, bangles clinking under the black and a big psychedelic mess of colour from a sweet shop. Rotis flew through the air as in a juggling act, polka-dotting the sky high over a restaurant that bore the slogan "Good food makes good mood". Biju stood there in that dusty tepid soft sari night. Sweet drabness of home - he felt everything shifting and clicking into place around him, felt himself slowly shrink back to size, the enormous anxiety of being a foreigner ebbing - that unbearable arrogance and shame of the immigrant. Nobody paid attention to him here, and if they said anything at all, their words were easy, unconcerned. He looked about and for the first time in God knows how long, his vision unblurred and he found that he could see clearly.

Maybe what a son evoked in a father was different than what a daughter evoked? It would be all right. She was only afraid that when time passed, it would not be these trips to the library he would remember, or his eagerness to learn how she made roti in the kitchen with him as her helper, but how upset he would become when Rafiq scolded him.

Jangan beri aku apapun Meski itu perhatianmu Meski itu kasih sayangmu Meski itu air matamu Jangan beri aku kesedihanmu Jangan beri aku amarahmu Jangan beri aku dahagamu Jangan kau beri aku apapun Sebab masih kuorak langit demi menemukan seluruh jejak petilasanmu Bunda." Tapi Nak, bagaimana engkau bisa berucap serupa itu? Bukankah sudah aku beri engkau bunga? Sudah aku beri engkau matahari. Sudah aku beri engkau rumput dan dedaunan. Sudah aku beri engkau laut dan pasir pantai. Mengapa masih? Tak cukupkah kau cucup air susu dari sepiku? Kau kecap nyeri dari lukaku, sebagaimana dulu kau terakan kebahagiaan di bawah perutku serupa goresan pisau yang menyambut kehadiranmu. Betapa semuanya masih. Aku berikan lagi engkau api, aku berikan lagi engkau pagi, aku berikan lagi engkau nyanyi tualang dari hatiku yang engkau tahu menyimpan sejuta kekhawatiran. Bagaimana engkau masih berucap serupa itu? Aku masih berikan engkau suar hingga separuh umurku. Aku berikan engkau tawa dari separuh mautku. Aku berikan engkau kekal ingatan dan sekaligus mimpi abadi. Aku beri semuanya, walau itu cuma sekotak bekal sederhana yang semoga engkau terima untuk mengganjal rasa laparmu. Betapa aku selalu ingin ada untukmu, Nak. Sebab cuma satu permintaanku tak lebih. Ijinkan aku jadi teman seperjalananmu, sahabat di waktu gundahmu, pembawa kegembiraan di kala senggangmu. Sebagaimana dulu kutimang dirimu dan kunina bobokkan engkau di pangkuanku. Ijinkan aku jadi roti yang mengenyangkan laparmu, pelipur hati di kala sesakmu, panasea ketika kau sakit. Bukankah aku ada ketika kau belajar berdiri dan aku di sana saat kau jatuh? Aku setia menungguimu saat kau berlari mengejar bulan dan matahari. Dan sekalipun waktu merambatiku dengan galur usia, hingga mungkin aku tak lagi mampu berdiri tegap seperti dulu. Aku tak akan pernah menyerah padamu Nak. Tidak, Bunda tak akan pernah menyerah. Sebab bagiku, cukuplah dirimu sebatas dirimu saja. Akan tetapi, sanggupkah kau cukupkan dirimu dengan semua kebanggaan? Cukupkan dirimu dengan apa yang engkau punya. Cukupkan dirimu dengan semua doa doa yang tak henti kutitikkan dari sudut hatiku yang semoga jadi asa yang paling surga. Surgamu Nak. Walau kutahu itu akan mengusik nyenyak tidurmu. Walau itu akan menambah resah waktu kerjamu. Sebab kutahu seberapa keras engkau berjuang. Pada setiap tetes keringat yang engkau cucurkan mana kala engkau harus berlari mengejar bus yang datang menjemput. Manakala pikiranmu tak bisa lepas dari layar lap topmu yang tak henti berkedip. Manakala pagi datang dan sibuk pekerjaan hadir serupa hujan tak kunjung usai mendera. Cukupkan dirimu dengan cinta Bunda Nak. Sekalipun nanti, tak ada lagi ucapan nyinyir bergulir dari bibir Bunda yang mulai keriput ini. Yakinlah, pintu rumah hati Bunda akan selalu terbuka buatmu, kapan pun engkau ingin pulang.

oie rotie aux pruneaux

So do I have to teach you all over again how to make the rotis round?” Asha teased her daughter, merrily holding one of them up. “Come on! Who will marry you when you make such ridiculous bread?” The

The chicken first, because saffron is a lazier flavor in terms of how long it takes to surface and register. Then the roti, because truffle oil and fennel both can overwhelm, unless tempered by a palate already coated with a softer spice.

Aku ingin melihat kehidupan. Aku milik rakyat. Aku harus melihat mereka, aku harus mendengarkan mereka, dan bersentuhan dengan mereka. Aku merasa bahagia kalau berada di tengah mereka. Bagiku mereka adalah roti kehidupan. Aku membutuhkan massa rakyat.

Telah kukirim warna warni pelangi itu bersama salam dari adikmu. Ternyata ia juga rindu berkelakar denganmu. Jadi baik baiklah engkau melihat dunia, Nak. Mungkin ia tak seindah taman bunga yang pernah Bunda ceritakan. Ada teman yang akan menyambutmu dengan senyum dan jabat tangan. Tapi mungkin, ada mata yang akan menatapmu dengan curiga. "Apa yang akan engkau perbuat di sini? Jangan kau curi apa yang aku punya!" Pandai pandailah engkau menyalin baris baris ingatan dari semua petuahku dulu. Seberapa penting dan bernilainya itu bagimu kini. Sebab, hanya cinta Bunda yang akan mengatarkanmu melewati hari hari hujan. Hari hari tanpa mimpi. Keras suara guntur dan kilat berkelebat. Tapi kau tak perlu takut Nak. Karena kau tak pernah sendirian. Ada Bunda yang akan membimbingmu melewati jalan kelok berliku. Jalan yang penuh tikungan dan tanjakan yang tersembunyi. Jalan yang mungkin tak selamanya lurus. Jalan yang akan membuatmu letih. Awalnya mungkin engkau akan mengeluh. Mungkin engkau akan menangis sesekali. Mungkin engkau akan merasa jengkel dan bahkan marah. Tapi biarlah perasaan perasaan itu mengalir seperti sungai. Karena akan selalu ada laut di hati Ibu, di hati Bundamu ini. Luas samudra yang akan menampung semua keluh kesahmu. Ada pesan pesan pendek yang akan menyapamu setiap pagi. Jadikan itu roti dan selai choco crunchy sarapan kegemaranmu. Akan ada bunga yang wangi semerbak yang di kirim dari kantor ayah untuk menceriakan pagi harimu. Ia mungkin tak banyak bicara menyuarakan perasaannya, tapi ketahuilah Nak, bahkan di tengah kesibukannya ia tak pernah berhenti memikirkanmu. Sesekali ia berhenti mengajar, hanya untuk mengirim pesan padaku, "Adakah kabar dari putri kesayangannya hari ini?" Bahkan ia tak sabar menunggu datangnya akhir pekan, agar ia leluasa berbicara denganmu dari hati ke hati. Sebab ia tahu, betapa harimu kadang mendung kadang hujan. Dan ketika mati lampu, matanya seperti menerawang di dalam gelap. Dengan setengah berbisik ia bicara kepada Bunda, seandainya saja ia bisa jadi pelita yang menyala untukmu sepanjang hari. Saat malam datang mengendap dan adikmu lelaki telah lama mendengkur, Bunda acap mendengar suara ayahmu seperti mendesah di dalam mimpi. Ia menangis terbata menyebut nyebut namamu. Bunda tak hendak membuatnya terjaga. Sebab tangis itu seperti juga doa. Seperti kerinduan laut yang tak bertepi. Seperti cerah langit merah jelang subuh dini hari. Kamu bisa menyebutnya sebagai cinta. Itulah cinta yang menambatkan hati bunda ke pelukan ayahmu. Ia seperti senyap pawana yang menyelinap di malam buta dan berusaha masuk lewat jendela kamarmu. Ia mungkin tak akan berucap sepatah kata pun. Ia hanya akan menatapmu sejenak. Memastikan engkau tidur terlelap. Ia mungkin cuma ingin tahu, apakah selimut yang kamu pakai cukup tebal dan hangat membungkus tubuhmu. Apakah AC di kamarmu menyala terlalu dingin? Apakah senyum manis menghias wajahmu dan membawamu bermimpi tentang surga? Ketahuilah Nak, itu adalah kerinduan kami dan perasaan perasaan lain yang tak terlukiskan.

Jadi kalau pas rasa lapar itu tiba tiba menyerang usus dan lambungnya, maka ia dengan santai dan seenaknya nyelonong begitu saja ke dalam rumah. Lalu berjalan berlenggang ke dapur dan membuka tudung saji di meja makan. Bila ia tak menemukan sesuatu di dalam tudung saji itu, maka ia tak akan segan untuk membuka lemari es. Dan tentu saja, seperti yang kita duga, maka apa saja yang ada di dalam lemari es itu akan disikatnya. Ia tak butuh ijin untuk mencaplok apa saja yang ia temukan; persediaan susu buat seminggu dan botol botol minuman ringan, puding di atas talam, kue kue kecil dalam toples, roti dan selai, buah entah itu pisang, anggur, mangga atau pepaya. Semua akan disikatnya tanpa ba, bi, atau bu. Jangan kata kalau ditemukannya potongan daging, keratan ikan, gundukan ayam atau kantongan sosis. Barangkali yang membedakan dia sama anjing atau babi adalah, dia masih merasa perlu untuk memasaknya terlebih dahulu. Dan tak kira kira, tanpa segan dia akan menggunakan semua bumbu, sayur mayur dan persediaan sambal yang ada di kulkas untuk pelengkap santapannya itu. Dan tentu saja, nasi di dalam rice cooker tak terkecuali.

«Cel care caută uşor se pierde. Orice singurătate e o vină», aşa grăieşte turma. Iar tu de multă vreme ţii de turmă. Şi încă multă vreme vocea turmei va răsuna în tine. Iar când vei vrea să zici: «Eu nu mai am aceeaşi conştiinţă ca a voastră» va fi un plâns şi o durere. Uite, durerea aceasta însăşi se naşte încă din aceeaşi conştiinţă: şi cel din urmă licăr al acestei conştiinţe luceşte încă în mâhnirea ta. Vrei însă tu să mergi pe calea mâhnirii tale, care e calea înspre tine însuţi? Atunci arată-mi cu ce drept şi cu ce forţă? Eşti tu o nouă forţă şi-un nou drept? O primă punere-n mişcare? O roată ce se-nvârte prin ea însăşi? Poţi tu supune chiar şi stelele, spre-a se roti-mprejurul tău? Ah, există-atât de multă lăcomie de-nălţimi! Există-atâtea spasme-ale ambiţioşilor! Arată-mi că nu eşti lacom, nici ambiţios! Ah, există-atât de multe gânduri mari, care nu fac nimic mai mult ca nişte foi: se umflă, sporindu-şi golul dinlăuntru.

He put a pan on the stove and roasted the rumali roti quarters for half a minute on each side just until the butter in the dough sizzled, then placed them on a plate and trickled them with truffle oil. Then he placed a paper-thin slice of heart of fennel dusted with roasted cumin over them. In a bowl next to that, he laid out chicken in the simplest Mughlai sauce of steamed onion in cream with the slightest hint of saffron. Finally, he tucked a perfectly curled papad into the bowl.

Decorated in exotic tones of saffron, gold, ruby, and cinnamon with accent walls representing the natural movement of wind and fire, and a cascading waterfall layered with beautiful landscaped artificial rocks and tiny plastic animals, the restaurant was the embodiment of her late brother's dream to re-create "India" in the heart of San Francisco. The familiar scents- cinnamon, pungent turmeric, and smoky cumin- brought back memories of evenings spent stirring dal, chopping onions, and rolling roti in the bustling kitchen of her parents' first restaurant in Sunnyvale under the watchful army of chefs who followed the recipes developed by her parents. What had seemed fun as a child, and an imposition as a teenager, now filled her with a warm sense of nostalgia, although she would have liked just one moment of her mother's time.

Tuhan, lindungilah keraguan-keraguan kami, sebab Keraguan pun sebentuk doa. Keraguan-lah yang membuat kami bertumbuh dan memaksa kami untuk tak takut melihat sekian banyak jawaban yang tersedia untuk satu pertanyaan. Kabulkanlah doa kami… Tuhan, lindungilah keputusan-keputusan kami, sebab membuat Keputusan pun sebentuk doa. Setelah bergulat dengan keraguan, beri kami keberanian untuk memilih antara satu jalan dengan jalan lainnya. Biarlah kiranya pilihan YA tetap YA dan pilihan TIDAK tetap TIDAK. Setelah kami memilih jalan kami, kiranya kami tidak pernah menoleh lagi atau membiarkan jiwa kami digerogoti penyesalan. Kabulkanlah doa kami… Tuhan, lindungilah tindakan-tindakan kami, sebab Tindakan pun sebentuk doa. Kiranya makanan kami sehari-hari menjadi buah dari segala yang terbaik dalam diri kami. Kiranya kami bisa berbagi walau sedikit saja dari Kasih yang kami terima, melalui karya dan perbuatan. Kabulkanlah doa kami… Tuhan, lindungilah impian-impian kami, sebab Bermimpi pun sebentuk doa. Kiranya usia maupun keadaan-keadaan tidak menghalangi kami untuk tetap mempertahankan nyala api harapan dan kegigihan yang suci itu di dalam hati kami. Kabulkanlah doa kami… Tuhan, berikanlah antusiasme kepada kami, sebab Antusiasme pun sebentuk doa. Antusiasme-lah yang memberitahu kami bahwa hasrat-hasrat kami penting dan layak diperjuangkan semaksimal mungkin. Antusiasme-lah yang mengukuhkan kepada kami bahwa segala sesuatu tidaklah mustahil asalkan kami sepenuhnya berkomitmen pada apa yang kami lakukan. Kabulkanlah doa kami… Tuhan, lindungilah kami, sebab Hidup ini adalah satu-satunya cara bagi kami untuk mengejawantahkan kuasa keajaibanMu. Kiranya bumi tetap mengolah benih menjadi gandum, kiranya kami bisa tetap mengubah gandum menjadi roti. Dan semua ini hanya dimungkinkan apabila kami memiliki Kasih; karenanya, janganlah kami ditinggalkan seorang diri. Biarlah selalu ada Engkau di sisi kami, dan ada orang-orang lain—laki-laki dan perempuan-perempuan—yang menyimpan keraguan-keraguan, yang bertindak dan bermimpi dan merasakan antusiasme, yang menjalani setiap hari dengan sepenuhnya membaktikannya kepada kemuliaanMu. Amin.

Such good relations we had that if there was any function that we had, then we used to call Musalmaans to our homes, they would eat in our houses, but we would not eat in theirs and this is a bad thing, which I realize now. If they would come to our houses we would have two utensils in one corner of the house, and we would tell them, pick these up and eat in them; they would then wash them and keep them aside and this was such a terrible thing. This was the reason Pakistan was created. If we went to their houses and took part in their weddings and ceremonies, they used to really respect and honour us. They would give us uncooked food, ghee, atta, dal, whatever sabzis they had, chicken and even mutton, all raw. And our dealings with them were so low that I am even ashamed to say it. A guest comes to our house and we say to him, bring those utensils and wash them, and if my mother or sister have to give him food, they will more or less throw the roti from such a distance, fearing that they may touch the dish and become polluted ... We don’t have such low dealings with our lower castes as Hindus and Sikhs did with Musalmaans.

Now Janie ordered a drink and glanced at the bar menu, choosing the goat curry because she'd never had it before. "You sure about that?" the barman said. He was a boy, really, no more than twenty, with a slim body and huge, laughing eyes. "It's spicy." "I can take it," she said, smiling at him, wondering if she might pull an adventure out of her hat on her next-to-last night, and what it would be like to touch another body again. But the boy simply nodded and brought her the dish a short time later, not even watching to see how she fared with it. The goat curry roared in her mouth. "I'm impressed. I don't think I could eat that stuff," remarked the man sitting two seats down from her. He was somewhere in the midst of middle age, a bust of a man, all chest and shoulders, with a ring of blond, bristling hair circling his head like the laurels of Julius Caesar and a boxer's nose beneath bold, undefeated eyes. He was the only other guest that wasn't with the wedding party. She'd seen him around the hotel and on the beach and had been uninspired by his business magazines, his wedding ring. She nodded back at him and took an especially large spoonful of curry, feeling the heat oozing from every pore. "Is it good?" "It is, actually," she admitted, "in a crazy, burn-your-mouth-out kind of way." She took a sip of the rum and Coke she'd ordered; it was cold and startling after all that fire. "Yeah?" He looked from her plate to her face. The tops of his cheeks and his head were bright pink, as if he'd flown right up to the sun and gotten away with it. "Mind if I have a taste?" She stared at him, a bit nonplussed, and shrugged. What the hell. "Be my guest." He moved quickly over to the seat next to hers. He picked up her spoon and she watched as it hovered over her plate and then dove down and scooped a mouthful of her curry, depositing between his lips. "Jee-sus," he said. He downed a glass of water. "Jee-sus Christ." But he was laughing as he said it, and his brown eyes were admiring her frankly over the rim of his water glass. He'd probably noticed her smiling at the bar boy and decided she was up for something. But was she? She looked at him and saw it all instantaneously: the interest in his eyes, the smooth, easy way he moved his left hand slightly behind the roti basket, temporarily obscuring the finger with the wedding ring.

Masala paste 2 teaspoons garam masala or curry powder 2 teaspoons red pepper flakes 2 teaspoons smoked paprika 1 teaspoon cumin seeds, toasted and ground 1 teaspoon coriander seed, toasted and ground 3/4-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and grated 1 tablespoon peanut oil 2 tablespoons tomato paste Salt and pepper A handful of fresh cilantro Curry 11/2 tablespoons peanut oil 1 red onion, diced 1 clove garlic, minced 2 tablespoons masala paste (from above) One 14-ounce/400g can diced tomatoes 1 cup/250ml vegetable stock 7 ounces/200g red lentils, rinsed 7 ounces/200g baby spinach leaves 2 tablespoons unflavored low-fat yogurt Rye Barley Roti (recipe follows), for serving Pulse the masala paste ingredients in a mini food processor till well combined and fairly smooth.

Ein ser seg sjølv, kjenner det som ein har eit landskap i seg med tørre moar, og skrånande fjellsider med vandrande skuggar over. Dessutan veit ein om stygge og avgøymde stup. Ein går utanom dei, ferdast ikkje på den kanten. Der er ting på botnen av vatnet. La det ligge der. Ingen skal få visst det. La det ligge på havsens botn. – Så kjem det ei minning: Det skal koma ein dag då alt som – Å langt ifrå! svarar ein hastig, og bit det av. Prøver bite det av, for det hjelper ikkje overfor det einvise mælet, det fullfører det som det skal ha sagt: Det kjem ein dag då havet ditt skal gje frå seg alt som det gøymer no. Ditt vesle djupe stygge hav. Der er roti der nede. Slam og mørker. Ta deg i akt. Ein skubbar det frå seg. Arg, som ein blir overfor alt som er påtrengande. Og svarar frank: eg er slett ikkje redd. Ein reknar aldri med skredet, raset som riv all nådig dekning av. Så går raset. Og tek med seg. Ikkje berre det ein visste måtte gå i vasken om det skulle prøvast, men òg alt det som det er sviande skam at blir nækt: Det at folk ser kva som verkeleg har vori der heile tida.

Rumah itu menjadi penuh cinta. Aureliano mencoba menyatakan cinta itu lewat sebuah puisi yang ternyata tak berawal dan tak berakhir. Ia menulis puisi itu di atas sepotong perkamen kasar yang diberikan Melquíades padanya: Puisi itu juga ditulis pada tembok kamar mandi dan di atas kulit lengannya dan di atas segala-galanya itu Remedios tampil dalam perubahan bentuk: Remedios dalam obat tidur di senja hari, Remedios dalam alunan napas lembut bunga mawar, Remedios dalam tetesan liur rahasia ngengat-ngengat, Remedios dalam uap roti pagi, Remedios di mana-mana dan Remedios untuk selama-lamanya.

Lihat, Layla. Al-Quds, kota paling indah di dunia. Kota kita. Lihatlah betapa terang dan cerah batu itu di bawah sinar matahari pagi; ciumlah aroma za'atar dan roti yang baru dipanggang, dengarlah panggilan muazin dan teriakan para penjual tamar hindi. Ingatlah semua ini, Layla, simpan di dalam hatimu.

Cinta Dari Rutinitas Sehari Hari I. Ada saat di mana aku sangat mencintaimu, seperti berlama- lama memandang ikan yang berenang tenang di dalam kolam di pekarangan yang dulu pernah kita miliki. Itu rutinitas yang mesti aku mulai saat terjaga dari tidur di malam hari. Buang air kecil di toilet dan diam diam merenungi wajahmu yang terlelap di dalam gelap. Aku mencintaimu saat itu melebihi bagaimana kamu mencintaiku, mungkin dengan sedikit rasa belas kasihan. Seperti biasa, pagi tak pernah alpa mengungkap perasaannya. Terang cahaya matahari tak pernah berbasa basi. Ia bebas dan leluasa keluar masuk dari balik kaca jendela. Dan aku akan kembali mencintaimu untuk ruap wangi susu tanpa gula, menggantikan segelas kopi yang sudah lama tak pernah lagi aku nikmati. Kau melebur dalam jarum dan benang waktu yang menisik setiap butiran uap yang mengembang di dalam cangkir menjadi hem dan celana panjang untuk aku kenakan. Sesekali menuangkan wewangian ke dalam mesin cuci sambil menghindari letupan minyak dari penggorengan yang riuh menawarkan sarapan. Buatku cukup beberapa potong ubi buat pengganti nasi dan roti. Buatmu telur mata sapi dan bakmi goreng sisa semalam yang kita beli di pengkolan jalan. Masih ada sepotong pisang yang terusik dari nyenyak tidurnya dan tangan yang sibuk menyisihkan butiran garam dari cairan lupa. Setelah itu kau mulai ritual menggosok sepatu dengan keringat yang menetes dari dahimu. Diam-diam mengantar pesan rahasia daftar barang belanjaan ke telingaku sambil melambaikan tangan ke arah tetangga melewati pagar berkarat rumah kita. : Seperti itulah cinta yang bagimu sederhana.

God, she misses Delhi. Misses roti and pickle and curd in the winter sun. Girls fussing over her in tiny, windowless salons. Golgappas in Khan Market. The crowds of Old Delhi. Sweet corn on the side of the road, dressed with chilli and chaat masala and lemon. Misses her dad so much just to think of him makes her cry. Misses her mum. But they barely speak.

At her final dinner in Imperial Heights, she notices afresh all that a week has made familiar: the silk runner, the brass casseroles, and the many little bowls on her plate that Sita, already turning invisible, keeps refilling. The meal is elaborate. There is saag paneer because it is her favourite Indian dish; corn bake, should the curry get too spicy; what she now knows is dal, not soup; yogurt, rotis, pilaf rice and pickle. Her first night here, she asked what order to eat things in, and everyone laughed like it was the most charming thing to say. Tonight, she folds her roti into a roll, one bite for each spoonful of curry, and as the subject of her new rental in Santacruz leads to a discussion on the city's suburbs, she feels reassured that Nana is right, people are people; no matter where you go and how confusing or daunting or hilarious they seem, there is always room to be kindred.

Saya suka lihat kamu ngelamun di tengah rapat, cuma mau makan roti sobek rasa cokelat, bahkan waktu kamu lari-lari dari parkiran ke gedung utama karena telat. Dari semua hal yang berkaitan sama kamu dan saya lihat, saya suka.

BARTON CENTRE, 912, 9th Floor, Mahatma Gandhi Rd, Bengaluru, Karnataka - 560 001 Phone Number +91 8884400919 ### Uncover Sri Lanka's Enchantment: Your Upcoming Tropical Vacation Are you looking for the ideal tropical getaway with stunning scenery, a thriving culture, and a fascinating past? You need look no farther than a Surfnxt sri lanka tour package from bangalore. Known as the "Pearl of the Indian Sea," this island country tempts with its stunning regular excellence, cordial individuals, and various remarkable encounters. #### A Landscape Tapestry From immaculate beaches to verdant tea plantations and foggy mountainous areas, Sri Lanka is well known for its varied landscapes. Engaging in a tour from Bangalore allows you to fully experience the island's natural splendors. Explore the golden beaches of As you venture inland, you'll end up in the core of Sri Lanka's tea country. The picturesque slopes of Nuwara Eliya and Ella are covered with undulating green tea manors, making a postcard-wonderful background. Here, you can partake in a directed visit through a tea manufacturing plant and relish newly prepared Ceylon tea while looking at the shocking vistas. #### A Jump into History and Culture Past its shocking view, Sri Lanka is saturated with a rich social legacy that goes back millennia. The old city of Anuradhapura offers a brief look into the island's regal past with its very much safeguarded ruins and consecrated locales like the Sri Maha Bodhi tree, accepted to be the most seasoned living tree on the planet. Likewise, Polonnaruwa, the second capital of antiquated Sri Lanka, flaunts noteworthy archeological locales, including sanctuaries and sculptures that mirror the island's imaginative ability. Your Sri Lanka visit bundle will likewise incorporate the chance to encounter the nearby culture through customary moves, music, and culinary joys. Try not to miss attempting neighborhood top picks like containers, kottu roti, and the famous Sri Lankan curry, which burst with flavor and mirror the island's assorted culinary impacts. #### Special Untamed life Experiences Sri Lanka is a sanctuary for untamed life devotees. The island is home to a few public parks, including Yala and Udawalawe, where you can set out on an exhilarating safari. Spotting great elephants, panthers, and a heap of bird animal types is an elating encounter that couple of can stand up to. The opportunity to notice such heavenly animals right at home is really extraordinary. #### Consistent Travel from Bangalore sri lanka tour package from bangalore has never been more straightforward. With numerous flight choices, your tropical escape is only a couple of hours away. Entering an alternate world, with its accommodating local people and energetic business sectors, makes certain to be a reviving change from the hurrying around of city life. #### Your Process Is standing by With Surfnxt, you can modify your Sri Lanka visit bundle to accommodate your own inclinations, guaranteeing that each snapshot of your process is extraordinary. Whether you're looking for unwinding on flawless sea shores, experience in the mountains, or social advancement, Sri Lanka is the best objective for your next occasion. Enjoy the tranquility, experience, and appeal that look for you on this charming island. Prepare to investigate the sorcery of Sri Lanka — your tropical escape begins now!

1. Sri Lanka’s Cultural and Historical Richness "Sri Lanka is a place where history lives in harmony with the present. From ancient temples to colonial fortresses, every corner of this island tells a story." Sri Lanka’s history stretches over 2,500 years, featuring incredible landmarks like the Sigiriya Rock Fortress and Anuradhapura's ancient ruins. The country is also home to the famous Temple of the Tooth in Kandy, an important religious site for Buddhists around the world. Each historic site tells a different story, making Sri Lanka a treasure trove of cultural and spiritual experiences. Find out more about planning a visit here. ________________________________________ 2. Nature’s Bounty and Biodiversity "In Sri Lanka, nature isn't merely observed; it's experienced with all the senses — from the scent of spice plantations to the sight of vibrant tea terraces and the sound of waves on pristine beaches." Sri Lanka’s national parks, like Yala and Udawalawe, are among the best places to see elephants, leopards, and a diverse range of bird species. The island’s ecosystems, from rainforests to coastal mangroves, create an incredible array of landscapes for nature lovers to explore. For those planning to visit these natural wonders, start your journey with a visa application. ________________________________________ 3. Sri Lankan Hospitality and Warmth "The true beauty of Sri Lanka is found in its people — hospitable, welcoming, and ready to share a smile or story over a cup of tea." The warmth of Sri Lankans is a common highlight for visitors, whether encountered in bustling cities or quiet villages. Tourists are frequently invited to join meals or participate in local festivities, making Sri Lanka a welcoming destination for international travelers. To experience this hospitality firsthand, ensure you have the right travel documents, accessible here. ________________________________________ 4. Beaches and Scenic Coastal Areas "Sri Lanka’s coastline is a place where sun meets sand, and every wave brings with it a sense of peace." With over 1,300 kilometers of beautiful coastline, Sri Lanka offers something for everyone. The south coast is famous for relaxing beaches like Unawatuna and Mirissa, while the east coast’s Arugam Bay draws surfing enthusiasts from around the globe. To enjoy these beaches, start by obtaining a Sri Lanka visa. ________________________________________ 5. Tea Plantations and the Hill Country "The heart of Sri Lanka beats in the hill country, where misty mountains and lush tea plantations stretch as far as the eye can see." The central highlands of Sri Lanka, with towns like Ella and Nuwara Eliya, are dotted with tea plantations that produce some of the world’s finest teas. Visiting a tea plantation offers a chance to see tea processing and sample fresh brews, with the cool climate adding to the serene experience. Secure your entry to the hill country with a visa application. ________________________________________ 6. Sri Lankan Cuisine: A Feast for the Senses "In Sri Lanka, food is more than sustenance — it’s an art form, a burst of flavors that range from spicy curries to sweet desserts." Sri Lankan cuisine is a rich blend of spices and textures. Popular dishes like rice and curry, hoppers, and kottu roti offer a true taste of the island. Food tours and local markets provide immersive culinary experiences, allowing visitors to discover the flavors of Sri Lanka. For a trip centered on food and culture, start your journey here.

But when to consume the fat? Just before an exercise session? No, the night before, if you work out in the morning. And if you work out in the evening, then the lunch should be wholesome and ghee on your rotis is a must.

Shohar Ka Mizaj Naram Karne Ka Wazifa ," Aslamwalekum Friends, Jis Kisi Meri Bahan Ka Shohar Usse Pyar Na Karta Ho Uski Koi Baat Na Sunta Ho Ya Ladai Jagda Karta Aisi Aurat Jiske Shohar Ka Mizaj Bahut Sakht Ho Aur Baat Baat Par Naajayaz Gusse Ka Izhaar Karta Ho Aise Halat Me Aurat Ki Jindgi Bahut Preshani Bhri Ho Jati Hai To Aisi Aurat Ko Yeh Wazifa Karna Chahiye Ki Jab Shohar Ko Roti Dene Lage To Us Aurat Ko Pahle 111 Baar Ya-Affu Padh Le

The aloo gobi is perhaps to North India what apple pie is to America. It is cheap and easy to make. Like most Indian dishes, you can make aloo gobi in as complex or rudimentary a fashion as you wish. You can eat it with rice, rotis, parathas or even with sliced white bread. A little leftover aloo gobi between two slices of white bread, toasted in one of those clamp sandwich-makers, and served with ketchup and mint chutney, is one of the greatest breakfast achievements of our species.

Jadi kaya tak salah. Yang salah makan roti kaya tak baca basmalah.

Chicken and vegetable pakoras, chickpea fritters with delicate spices. Aloo samosas filled with spicy potatoes, peas, and cilantro, with a fiery green sauce. Goat curry. Tandoori chicken. Mutton biryani. White lentil dal with onions and spices, potatoes and eggplant fried with onions and tomatoes, and four kinds of bread, naan, tandoor roti, chapati, and paratha.

Sejarah Manusia Apa alasan kenapa kamu ada di sini? Apakah semua orang memiliki alasan yang sama? Apakah kita ingin membebaskan diri dari beban kemanusiaan? Tidak semua orang bisa memahami orang lain sebagaimana ia memahami dirinya sendiri. Apa pentingnya kita berbicara tentang hal ini? Apakah artinya manusia tanpa nilai-nilai kemanusiaan? Sebab hanya dengan bertanya maka kita punya kesempatan untuk menemukan jawaban. Tak ada orang yang mengerti segalanya. Tak ada seorang pun yang demikian. Berhentilah untuk merasa diri yang paling pintar! Berhentilah untuk menjadi lebih dari siapa pun! Kita tidak pernah lebih dari siapa pun. Ada orang yang terpaksa mencuri roti demi mengganjal rasa laparnya. Tapi itu tidak berarti mereka lebih buruk daripada kita. Apakah kita bisa memahami berat beban yang dipikul oleh orang lain? Apakah kita sungguh peduli? Tidak semua keadaan seperti yang kita mau. Tidak semua orang bisa menjadi seperti apa yang dikehendakinya. Kita telah memulai sesuatu untuk menjadikan hidup ini berharga. Kita tidak bisa berhenti sekarang atau kapan pun. Lalu apa yang bisa kita perbuat? Ini adalah kesempatan kita. Mari tunjukkan apa yang bisa kita lakukan. Dan lakukanlah dengan cara yang lebih baik. Lepaskan pikiran-pikiran itu dari batu prasangka yang membebaninya. Bebaskan hati dari kecemburuan dan kedengkiannya sendiri. Beberapa orang telah menerakan sidik jari dan menjadikan dirinya berarti. Bukan sekadar potret usang yang tergantung di dinding. Apakah kita hanya akan menjadi bagian dari sejarah, atau kita sendiri yang akan menulis dan menciptakannya?

In the last few months, as Ama got sicker, as it finally sank in, I thought: One day my ama will die. Everything that she ever was will die with her. The way she walked quickly, and flour in her hair when she made roti, the lines in her forehead when she yelled at me for doing something stupid. Her Saturday morning parathas and her smell, cardamom and Pine-Sol and lotion. I figured that such thoughts would prepare me for her death. They didn’t.

Diet saya terdiri dari pizza. Saya melihatnya sebagai kelompok makanan yang lengkap: ada roti, tomat, saus, dan terkadang, jika Anda beruntung, ada daging atau sayuran

Diet saya terdiri dari pizza. Saya melihatnya sebagai kelompok makanan yang lengkap: ada roti, tomat, saus, dan terkadang, jika Anda beruntung, ada daging atau sayuran.

Umeed Pe Duniya Kayam Hai! Roti ke bina insaan chaar hafte jee sakta hai, Pani ke bina chaar din aur hawa ke bina shayad chaar minute... lekin umeed ke bina insaan chaar second bhi nahi jee sakta hai A person can live for 4 weeks without food, 4 days without water and may be 4 minutes without air... but a person cannot survive for 4 seconds without hope.

and used the dough to make wheat tortillas, which Biba labelled “flat rotis no self-respecting Punjabi would ever make.

The scant menu had done the food a disservice. As the dishes arrived, ferried from the kitchen by a team of waiters, she surveyed the food. She swallowed at the sight. It was a lot. There were katoris filled with daal, as thick and silky as rice pudding but yellowed with turmeric, finished with cream; a dark, oily, goat curry, chunks of meat blackened by a tandoor; neatly cubed paneer swathed in spinach; prawns, pink and black and glistening, scattered with coriander, sitting spikily in their dish; grilled chicken thighs, reddened with spice, scattered with chilli. Among the plates were little bowls of rice and folded naan, roti, and feather-layered paratha.

We found his dog Roti and my cat Five stargazing in my gaze box. I didn’t know cats and dogs could be friends, but those two were inseparable.

For previous generations, progress in life so far would have meant going through the motions prescribed by caste and class: together, the imperatives of education (inevitably vocational), marriage (nearly always arranged, with love regarded as a folly of callow youth), parenthood and professional career (with the government) imposed order, without too many troubling questions about their purpose and meaning. Regional and caste background dictated culinary and sartorial habits: kurta-pyjamas and saris or shalwar-kameezes at home, drab Western-style clothes outside; an unchanging menu of dal, vegetables, rotis and rice leavened in some households with non-alcoholic drinks (Aseem’s first publication in the IIT literary magazine was Neruda-style odes to Rooh Afza and Kissan’s orange squash, Complan, Ovaltine and Elaichi Horlicks). We belonged to a relatively daring generation whose members took on the responsibility of crafting their own lives: working in private jobs, marrying for love, eating pasta, pizza and chow mein as well as parathas, and drinking cola and beer, at home, taking beach vacations rather than going on pilgrimages, and wearing jeans and T-shirts rather than the safari suits that had come to denote style to the preceding generation of middle-class Indians. Our choices were expanded far beyond what my parents or Aseem’s could even imagine.

I knew there would be a talk coming, but obviously we couldn't let the food get cold. Or warm, in the case of the tuna tartare with benne seeds I finally got to compare to Jada Knox's review. It really did taste a little bit like coffee, which, contrasted with the cold, clean chunks of tuna and hits of acid, was the perfect mellowing factor. The red stew, with a tender chicken thigh nearly falling apart in the spicy, sharp broth, was both hearty and exciting, the bland, fluffy fufu it was served over the perfect contrast. And the curried goat with roti and crispy potatoes? The whole fried red snapper with jerk seasoning? All the contrasts of flavor and texture made me want to eat and eat and eat until I burst.

Yes good one- hold on tight- to ideas. At times, since we are talking so much about birds and all things avian, these flighty things do have a tendency to spread their gossamer wings and take flight. So you haven’t even begun to see it and it disappears from your view. At times you don’t even know how many of these frisky things you thought of and they instantly frolicked their way into some wonderland. There they remain latent. Sometimes for mere moments, sometimes days, sometimes months and years. And then in a flash. They come back without warning, at times stealthily, in our most unguarded moments- in bed, polishing shoes, rolling out a roti, driving or pooping and you are not prepared. They settle tentatively on your sleepy eyes for a second and before you know it, fly past you in a flash again, good for you if you hold them then and there, for if you think you will sit yourself down one day with the wrong end of the pen in your mouth, or the laptop loaded with the works, or the dream paints on the palette, to capture what you saw in your mind’s stratosphere- you just blink and find it’s just a blankness you see, no matter how hard you try, a blankness that stares with a baffling obduracy. At times you even forget that you forgot. The thought had yet not entered your conscious mind- it was just hovering between the sleeping world and the awake, and just falls off the edge. Never makes it. Yes they are flighty things.” She rounded it with a peal of laughter, amused with the little story she had concocted.

Saya hanya menyediakan roti bakar dan selai hari ini. Saya nggak mau kamu terlalu fokus pada makanan, tapi saya nggak mau kamu fokus pada kelaparan.

Burning coals, making perfect shaped round rotis, massaging her husband’s back, carrying pots of water across miles would not be her fate. But she told no one about it. She silently vowed to break the mould someday.

When is the optimum time to do any particular thing, so that I generate maximum ROTI (return on time invested.)

Adakah yg lebih buruk daripada melihat foto teman-temanmu dengan kehidupan mereka yang berkilau cemerlang, lalu melihat ke sekelilingmu-semua remah roti dan tumpukan pakaian kotor serta fakta bahwa kau sendirian- dan menyadari betapa menyedihkannya hidupmu dibanding mereka?

Masood was a strict vegetarian so there was no tandoori. Instead, the meal featured sarson da saag made with green mustard leaves and eaten with corn-flour roti, dal makhani—a dish of lentils with cream—and a thick stew of red beans and rice called rajma.

January 15, 1995. Lately, words have been assailing me. Words like ashes, cocoyea brooms, sem, chataigne, roti, chunkaying, lepaying, washing wares. Everyday domestic words from long ago, a far-off time and place. Other words fly past me like spectres and they want something – words like gloaming, lovevine, lianas, pois-doux, zaboca, mango vere, pomme-cythere, Manzanilla, calypso, j’ouvert morning, ginga, carilee, googoonie, chuntah, calchul. Patois words and Hindi words. Words are ghosts, ancestors on this side. They are not symbols. They are alive and sensate – full of flesh and stone and jagged edges. Word jumbies.

Good. So go and make your dal, sabzi, roti fresh and use a small utensil. That way you will save your fuel and LPG cost. Okay? Also, understand the reason why you’ve got dimples (cellulite) in the wrong places. You didn’t just get fat over the last few years because of excessive calories or limited exercise. It’s about fuel efficiency. You’ve consumed too many calories and received very little nutrients in return, forcing such a deprived state in your body that the body fat is also turning toxic, and instead of evenly spreading out under your skin, it has developed stretch marks, cellulite and khaddas. It’s like using a ten-person ka capacity wala kadai and making only one person’s sabzi in it. Waste hua na? So much time and fuel to heat the kadai aur mila kya? Sabzi (and that too overcooked) only for one person. Getting it?’ ‘Kind of.’ ‘So that’s why I’m telling you to eat a wholesome meal — roti, sabzi, dal — by 6-6.30 p.m., when all you eat is junk. Every calorie you eat will be worth the nutrients.’ ‘This variety is all junk or what? Even if I make it at home?’ ‘You really need me to answer that? Yes, Hinaben, make it more than once, max twice a week, and it’s junk. Too little nutrients too many calories. One person’s sabzi in a ten-people ka kadai.’ ‘Okay, can I eat moong dhokli? I’ll eat it with sabzi separate. It’s like dal dhokli. So the roti I will mix in moong ka dal. My mother-in-law loves it and so does my son. So

Pernah dicari dan ditunggu Tuk sepotong roti dan kopi Pernah juga dijemput rindu Tuk separuh hati dan janji

The State of Punjab is full of flavor, festivals, frolic, color, brave soldiers and hard working farmers. Punjab is one of the richest states in the nation which is rich in almost every respect. From the exquisite cuisine, spicy platters of fragrant Sarson ka Saag and Makki di Roti, good-natured and high-spirited people, music loving and devoted denizens, the land of Punjab is a must visit place which will have a long-lasting impression on your lives and tongues.We are the best car service jaipur to punjab.Lets have a great voyaging experience with LetsGo.

With scarcely a pause for a mouthful of roti, Deeti stepped outside, on to the flat threshold of beaten earth that divided the mud-walled dwelling from the poppy fields beyond. By the light of the newly risen sun, she saw, greatly to her relief, that some of her flowers had at last begun to shed their petals.

Growing up, she always ate last, making sure everyone else had hot roti throughout their meal, hovering over us, insisting we eat more while I begged her to come sit down at the table. Finally, when the rest of us were nearly done, she’d shovel down her cold food before bolting off to start on the dishes, the laundry, some endless task or another.

I’d taken pains to avoid. It didn’t matter how hard we tried to be the perfect woman or daughter or daughter-in-law; it would never be good enough. Our rotis would never be round enough, and I was very tempted to tell her she shouldn’t even bother to try.