There is no person who does not wish to relive childhood, to go back to that golden age where everything was fun and frolic. What makes childhood so special, irrespective of the circumstances that you grew up in? I believe that memories have a large part to play in this. There are so many pleasures of childhood that we forget as we grow up.........we no longer have time to just be - to 'stand and stare'.
I was just transferring a newly bought packet of peanuts into a jar when I suddenly remembered the kappalandikkaran (literally translates into peanut man) who used to be eagerly awaited every evening. He was a wizened old man who came on the dot at five every evening, pushing his peanut cart. A bell on the cart, rung every now and then would alert all the kids in the households that he was on his way. The cart was set up with everything that he needed to supply freshly roasted peanuts to eager, shiny eyed kids. There was a stove on the end closest to him. On top of it was a large, broad pan filled with sand. On top of the sand was a thick, heavy iron kadai on which he tossed and turned peanuts with a little bit of salt sprinkled on top. Next to the stove was a bunch of old newspapers cut into neat squares. These would be deftly rolled out into cones even as the kids looked on with glee, and filled with hot, sand-roasted peanuts. All this for 50 paise. Time went on and the old man couldn't be seen on the streets anymore. He probably fell ill or passed away. I had all but forgotten about this simple eat that had given me so much happiness as a child.
Luckily, at some point, I started thinking about all this and even told my daughter about this treat that my grandfather would buy for me every evening. And then, while she watched, I put my kadai on the gas stove, threw in a handful of peanuts, sprinkled some salt over it and toasted them over a slow fire for 12-15 minutes until they were well browned. Then, she rolled some old newspaper into cones and I filled them with hot peanuts for her.
As I type this, she is munching on those peanuts.....and making happy memories.
Check out the Blogging Marathon page for the other marathoners doing BM#16.
This post goes to Smitha who is hosting Kids' Delight this month
I was just transferring a newly bought packet of peanuts into a jar when I suddenly remembered the kappalandikkaran (literally translates into peanut man) who used to be eagerly awaited every evening. He was a wizened old man who came on the dot at five every evening, pushing his peanut cart. A bell on the cart, rung every now and then would alert all the kids in the households that he was on his way. The cart was set up with everything that he needed to supply freshly roasted peanuts to eager, shiny eyed kids. There was a stove on the end closest to him. On top of it was a large, broad pan filled with sand. On top of the sand was a thick, heavy iron kadai on which he tossed and turned peanuts with a little bit of salt sprinkled on top. Next to the stove was a bunch of old newspapers cut into neat squares. These would be deftly rolled out into cones even as the kids looked on with glee, and filled with hot, sand-roasted peanuts. All this for 50 paise. Time went on and the old man couldn't be seen on the streets anymore. He probably fell ill or passed away. I had all but forgotten about this simple eat that had given me so much happiness as a child.
Luckily, at some point, I started thinking about all this and even told my daughter about this treat that my grandfather would buy for me every evening. And then, while she watched, I put my kadai on the gas stove, threw in a handful of peanuts, sprinkled some salt over it and toasted them over a slow fire for 12-15 minutes until they were well browned. Then, she rolled some old newspaper into cones and I filled them with hot peanuts for her.
As I type this, she is munching on those peanuts.....and making happy memories.
Check out the Blogging Marathon page for the other marathoners doing BM#16.
This post goes to Smitha who is hosting Kids' Delight this month
