Paris Holiday - March 2025

This note is written by Amritakripa

Paris doesn't overwhelm. It seeps in slowly, like warm light through sheer curtains, like the hush that settles over water just before dawn. It is not a city that demands; it invites—quietly, gracefully, one moment at a time.

The resort on the outskirts offered space to breathe—wide skies, soft mornings, and the kind of silence that feels intentional. There, the pace slowed. .

From a distance, the Eiffel Tower rose like a needle through layers of cloud and glass, always present, always just beyond. At Trocadéro, the view opened wide. Tourists, cameras, quiet gasps. It was a moment of stillness within motion—steel and symmetry bathed in the last blush of evening light.

The walk along the Champs-Élysées was a study in elegance. There was a sharpness to it—crisp storefronts, the scent of perfume rising from passing strangers, the clink of cutlery from hidden cafés. At the Arc de Triomphe, history towered heavy and still, yet softened by the hush of reverence.

Montmartre felt hand-drawn. Narrow streets, wind-struck shutters, and the distant strum of a guitar. 

The gardens—Luxembourg and Tuileries—breathed. Gravel paths, the occasional flutter of pigeons, marble statues caught mid-thought. There was nothing to do but sit and watch time float by like the leaves on the fountain’s surface.

In a small pâtisserie tucked between ordinary streets, the pastries became their own kind of language. Buttery croissants flaked into gold beneath the slightest touch. Tarte aux pommes—apple pie glazed in memory and sunlight—was warm, tender, quietly perfect. And then there was the chocolate mousse—rich, dark, and velvet-soft, dissolving like a secret kept too long. Each bite was less food, more feeling.

At Roland Garros, the air felt charged even in stillness. To sit where Nadal sat, to gaze across the clay that held echoes of greatness—it was reverent. The court was empty, yet full of ghosts in motion.

Disneyland Paris was a shift in tempo—laughter rising above castles, color blooming in motion. Not delicate, but dazzling. A kind of happiness that doesn’t ask for understanding, only presence.

And in Gare du Nord, in Grand Palais, in street corners unnamed and bridges unmarked, there were slices of something unforgettable. Not always grand. Often quiet. Always lasting.

Paris didn’t unfold like a story—it moved like a scent. Lingering, fading, returning unexpectedly. It filled pockets of time with the softest kind of wonder. And when it was time to leave, it didn’t feel like leaving anything behind.

It felt like carrying something new. Something sweet.  

Like the final spoon of mousse, savored slowly.  

Like a breath, held softly.

A trip to New York - April 2024

This note is written by Amritakripa 

There are cities you visit, and then there are cities that take you—heart, soul, and all—and spin you into a story so electric, you forget where the line between dream and waking ends. New York did just that. She wasn't just a city; she was a pulse. A golden blur of yellow taxis, the scent of roasted nuts curling into the winter air, and the low hum of ambition thrumming beneath her sidewalks.

I remember standing beneath the Empire State Building, its spire piercing the heavens like ambition incarnate. It wasn’t just a structure—it was a monument to mankind’s audacity, a skyscraping whisper of every dreamer who dared to look up.

Central Park was a world within a world. The crunch of leaves beneath my boots, the gentle laughter of children echoing in the wind, and the golden light that dripped from the trees like spilled honey. It felt like poetry carved into nature, an emerald sigh amidst the steel.

Wall Street was the city’s heartbeat in overdrive—buzzing phones, sharp suits, and the air thick with the scent of ink, coffee, and adrenaline. Yet even there, among marble giants and brass bulls, there was beauty—gritty, powerful, and human.

And oh, the food. Each bite was an ode to the world’s flavors—pastries that crumbled like secrets on the tongue, bagels that fought back with a chew, Chinatown’s spices dancing like firecrackers, and Little Italy’s warmth pouring out from each dish like a grandmother’s hug. I sipped butterbeer in a cozy corner, the Harry Potter in me beaming with childlike glee, the caramel froth whispering magic into my veins.

Then came Brooklyn Bridge, stretching across the river like a poem in suspension, each step a stanza. It led me to DUMBO, where cobbled streets met art and light in quiet reverence. I stood with the Manhattan skyline at my back, feeling infinite.

In Madame Tussauds, I met a boy frozen in wax, but alive in memory—Harry Styles, grinning as if he knew just how many of us he’d carried through our own little heartbreaks. It was surreal. Almost divine.

Times Square was a galaxy of lights gone rogue, where time folded into colors and movement, and the noise became its own language. I was but a speck beneath its blinking billboards, but never had I felt more seen.

The Statue of Liberty stood like a timeless lullaby to freedom, torch held high even as the sun bowed to the horizon. It wasn’t just a landmark—it was a mother to all wanderers, whispering, “You belong.”

At the Friends Experience, I retook the steps of sitcom dreams, laughter echoing through me as I sat on that orange couch. Somewhere between nostalgia and fantasy, I found joy.

But nothing—nothing—came close to standing in Madison Square Garden. And there it was—his banner, Harry’s. A silent roar of everything he was, everything he gave. My heart didn’t beat; it sang.

At Vanderbilt, I was skybound once more, the city sprawled like a jewel box at my feet. Grand Central Station was symphonic—the ceiling like a map of dreams, the whispers of thousands caught between departures and arrivals. I stood on those same steps Serena and Blair once ruled, feeling the ghost of Gossip Girl winking through my lens.

Finally, the US Open. The courts seemed like a stage come to life.

New York wasn’t just a trip. It was a chapter inked in wax and water and wind. I didn’t just walk her streets—I became a verse in her eternal song.

And somewhere, as the city exhaled, I whispered back—thank you

Fitness Routine

 Over the last 7–8 months, I’ve managed to shed nearly 8–9 kgs (10 Kgs as of today morning, weighing 65Kgs compared to 75Kgs in the past and the best I have been able to achieve was 72Kgs) —not through shortcuts, but by sticking to a simple, sustainable routine. Sharing in case it helps knowing well that each one’s body and dietary preferences are different. 

1. No sugar or sugar-based products – This alone made a big difference. Occasional cake here and there does not do any harm (small piece)
2. Morning routine – Fermented rice (kanji) with a mix of nuts, avocado, guava/papaya, and soaked green shoots.(Mung bean sprouts)
3. Lunch – A balanced plate: salad, soup, 2 chapatis, and a vegetable dish. _ was having rice initially and felt heavy after lunch and changed to Chapati (it does feel my stomach is not 100% full, but it gives a good feeling as I know I have not overate)
4. Fitness – 1 hour of daily gym (cardio + weights). The key is consistency, not intensity as I do all days including Sundays (would avoid only on instances of some niggles so as not to increase any pain)
5. Dinner – Often skipped; if hungry, only fruits, and strictly before 7 pm.

No fad diets, just mindful eating and a steady routine. Feeling lighter, more energetic, and mentally sharper. And, Yes I have also been drinking berry water for detox i.e boiled water with Ajwain, Gooseberry, Pudina and Ginger daily as it helps in burning fat and dead cells in the body.

The key to this has been the consistency in which I could follow. My belly fat has vanished over a period of time, inflammation in the body has come down and I think the water content in the body has drained.

Initially when I lost weight I was not sure if I can maintain since in the past I was not able to sustain, but it has been a good 7-8 months now the routine has been the same and feel good.

Malgudi Restaurant in Dubai Vs Sri Krishna Sweets - Thali in contrast!

A Costly Lesson in Dining – Our Disappointing Sunday Lunch Experience

Sometimes, the best way to move on from a disappointing experience is to write about it and let it go. That’s exactly why I’m sharing this – not to dwell on it, but to ensure I don’t repeat the same mistake.

It all started with a simple idea: having a nice weekend lunch outside. Since Sunday, March 30, 2025, coincided with Ugadi celebrations, I decided to look for Karnataka-based restaurants in Karama. Two places popped up on my Instagram feed: Kavala Mane and Malgudi.

I vaguely recalled visiting Malgudi before, but I did not have any strong memories of their food. Back then, they only served breakfast even during lunch hours, but their Ugadi promotion advertised a banana leaf thali, which made me assume they were offering a full lunch menu now. So, without much research, we decided to give it a shot—and I regret not spending more time evaluating my options.

A Disappointing Start

When we arrived, the restaurant was relatively empty, but it started getting crowded later on. The limited seating meant we had to adjust to a cramped setup. My daughter ordered a Truffle Oil Cheese Mushroom Onion Dosa, and the moment it arrived, I knew she would need to order something else. The size was ridiculously small—one dosa could be finished in just two bites!

Then came our much-anticipated Ugadi thali. One look at it, and I immediately felt disappointed. The portion size was shockingly small, served in a flimsy disposable paper tray. It was clear that the restaurant lacked the most basic quality any eatery should have: a “serving” attitude.

To make things worse, since my daughter’s dosa was barely a snack, she ordered a Rajini Dosa (Paneer Dosa). When it arrived, we were again baffled by the tiny portion size. It felt like an overpriced snack rather than a proper meal. But at this point, we just decided to brush it off as a bad dining experience.

The Final Straw – The Bill

When the bill arrived, it was the ultimate shocker.

• Truffle Oil Cheese Mushroom Onion Dosa – AED 33

• Rajini Dosa – AED 21
  

• Ugadi Thali (2 servings) – AED 58

• Total: AED 112

Thankfully, Zomato Gold gave us a 10% discount, bringing it down to AED 101, but even then, this was by far the most expensive lunch we’ve had in Karama for simple South Indian food.

Reality Check at Sri Krishna Sweets

Still feeling dissatisfied, we decided to stop by Sri Krishna Sweets, where we had an excellent thali just a week ago. To make matters worse, when we arrived, we saw that they had an amazing Ugadi menu—one we completely overlooked because we assumed they would have the same options as last week.

At that moment, the disappointment deepened. Had we just gone to Sri Krishna Sweets in the first place, we would have had a much better meal for a much fairer price. To cool down, I had curd rice, while my wife and daughter had coffee.

Malgudi – A Commercial Venture, Not a Restaurant for People

To get this frustration off my chest, I left an honest review on Google and Zomato. The instant response from Malgudi only reinforced my realization: this is purely a commercial entity, not a customer-focused restaurant.

I later discovered that Malgudi is owned by Eatopia, a group that runs 29 other restaurants, all following a similar pricing model—high margins, low value. Their food wasn’t bad in terms of quality, but the portion sizes were unreasonable, and the pricing was excessive.

The Difference Between Owner-Run Restaurants and Chains

This experience made me appreciate genuine, owner-run South Indian restaurants like:

• Sri Krishna Sweets

• Sri Balaji Bhavan

• Sree Krishna Bhavan

These places focus on serving good food first, not just maximizing profits. Owner-run restaurants have a passion for food and service, while chain restaurants like Malgudi, run by investment groups, prioritize commercial gains over customer satisfaction.

Lesson Learned

This experience was a valuable lesson:

- Do thorough research before trying a new place.
- Avoid chain restaurants that focus purely on profit, unless they are in the premium or luxury category.
- Support owner-run restaurants that truly care about their food and customers.

It reminds me of food vlogger Sri Kripal Ammana, who always highlights owner-run eateries for their passion and commitment to serving good food. Even Khalid Al Ameri, during his Hyderabad Ramadan food tour, noticed that the best restaurants had owners personally involved, ensuring quality and service.

Final Thoughts

This Sunday lunch was a lesson we won’t forget. Next time, we’ll be more mindful about where we dine—because good food isn’t just about taste, but also about how it’s served, priced, and appreciated.

Food Habits – A Journey Through Time and Tastes

 Food Habits – A Journey Through Time and Tastes

Growing up in Trichy as a non-vegetarian, my food habits in early childhood were simple yet healthy. Non-vegetarian meals were a Sunday treat, sourced from the famous "Bhai" mutton stall on Bharathiar Salai. Over time, due to economic constraints, these became less frequent. Green leafy vegetables, delivered right to our doorstep, were a staple. Breakfast was typically idly, with the occasional chapati for dinner, and Sundays were special with poori in the morning and rice with sambhar for lunch. My food was very “Tamil” in nature, a diet I stayed accustomed to through my childhood and college years.

When I began working at LIC and lived with friends, food shifted to simple chapatis with vegetarian sides. During my Chennai stint, meals remained basic, often at the office canteen, where lunch included a vegetarian thali with eggs. Once I moved to the UAE, self-cooking became the norm. Without a grinder or mixer, idly and dosai disappeared from my menu, replaced by quick breakfasts like hot dog rolls (just the bread as it was prepared in a local bakery) with mayonnaise.

Post-marriage in 2007, things changed again. While Mini worked until 2009, our weekdays often involved eating out, with weekends reserved for home-cooked Malayali dishes. Initially, the heavy use of coconut in Malayali cuisine felt unfamiliar, but being a foodie, I grew to enjoy it—though not regularly. Mini quickly adapted her cooking to Tamil dishes, including sambhar and vegetarian side dishes. Over time, she even declared some dishes as my favorites, though I didn’t have clear preferences back then. However, I did enjoy Pongal and onion uthappam at restaurants, and at home, I always loved a good vatha kuzhambu.

In July 2007, when Mini had chickenpox, she became a complete vegetarian. To simplify meals when dining out, I also turned vegetarian and continued this lifestyle until around 2017-18. During a routine health check-up, I discovered I was Vitamin B12 deficient. Following my doctor’s advice, I reintroduced non-vegetarian food occasionally, mainly during official events and trips. Initially, I struggled with the taste but gradually adapted. My Vietnam trip in 2022 stands out as a time I indulged in pork, duck, and other meats. I even tried eel during a 2004 Belgium trip, though it wasn’t to my liking. At times, I craved dishes like biryani or nihari, indulging in restaurants or Sunday takeaways.

Mini often believes I dislike dishes like puttu or idiyappam, but that’s not entirely true. These dishes, when prepared in Tamil Nadu, taste different from their Malayali counterparts, which might explain her perception. Recently, at a Malayali restaurant, I noticed how familiar dishes like idly, dosa, and chutney tasted distinct compared to Tamil-style preparations.

Travel has always been an opportunity for culinary exploration. I’ve relished local dishes: crab in Singapore, Arabic delicacies in Egypt, Lebanon, and Jordan. I usually avoid Indian restaurants abroad as they often serve heavy, butter-laden North Indian fare. However, during a 2021 trip to Paris with Ammu, I made an exception. Ammu, away from home for three weeks, longed for a familiar meal, and I took her to an Indian restaurant for dinner.

Over the last six months at home, my food habits have become consistent and healthier. Rare indulgences in non-vegetarian food and consistently skipping dinner have contributed to weight loss and overall well-being.

This journey of food habits reflects how my preferences have evolved with time, circumstances, and experiences. What remains constant, however, is my love for exploring and appreciating diverse cuisines.

 

Day of Fasting – A Journey of Self-Discovery

Vaikuntha Ekadashi – 10 January 2025

Fasting has always been an important aspect of Ekadashi. However, I hadn’t fasted in years, as I knew it was difficult for me to go an entire day without food. This year, Mini insisted that I try fasting. Though I initially hesitated, knowing how uncomfortable I get if I miss even a single meal, she gave me a flexible option: I could eat fruits throughout the day and avoid grains. For lunch, she suggested sabudana khichdi, along with soup and salad.

I jokingly remarked that this wasn't fasting since it felt like a normal meal, but Mini assured me it was fine. What I failed to realize was that fasting—even a modified version like this—requires adjustments to one’s routine, especially when undergoing physical activities.

The day progressed as usual, and in the evening, I went for my regular Ayurvedic massage session. This 90-minute treatment included Abhyangam (oil massage), Kizhi (herbal compress therapy), and about 6-7 minutes of Swedana (steam bath). While I was accustomed to these treatments, I felt the steam bath was unusually intense this time.

After the session, I changed as usual but started feeling dizzy. As I attempted to put on my T-shirt, I felt like I could no longer stand. I called the therapist, Ranjit, for water, but he was briefly out of the room preparing for the next patient. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the floor, sipping water.

Ranjit later explained that I had nearly collapsed, and he caught me just in time, though it was challenging because my body was slippery with oil. By the time help arrived, I was semi-conscious, surrounded by 6-7 staff members, with someone fanning me with a towel. As I regained composure, the doctor asked if I had eaten properly that day. That’s when it struck me—I had been fasting. (of course, with fruits and Sabudana)

The doctor explained that I should have avoided the treatment, especially the Kizhi and Swedana, as they cause dehydration and exhaustion. He pointed out that fainting during the steam bath could have been dangerous, even fatal, as my head was covered with a towel, making it harder to notice.

In that moment, I realized how careless I had been. Fasting, even in a modified form, requires mindful preparation and adjustments to daily activities. It also brought home the importance of food intake, not just in quantity but also in terms of the ingredients and timing.

This experience was a powerful lesson—a day of self-learning indeed.

PS: Ammu and Mini are experienced with proper fasting, often practicing it as part of Accutouch therapy, where fasting is used as a recovery method during illness. Clearly, I have much to learn from them!

 

My Journey at HSBC, Chennai

I began my journey at HSBC on January 10, 1995, at the Rajaji Salai Branch in Chennai. While I don't have a vivid memory of my first day, I recall being assigned to the "Bills Department," the only new employee in a group of 10-12 to receive this allocation. At that time, I had no idea what this unit entailed, and to this day, I still wonder why I was chosen for this role. I joined under the designation of "Clerk-cum-Cashier," later renamed "Banking Assistant" by the time I left on August 31, 1997. 

 The selection process involved a written exam and a group discussion, which likely contributed to my placement in the Bills Department. My early days were filled with learning, guided by my mentor, Mrs. Ramamani, who had been with the bank for some time. She encouraged me to read the rules of the ICC, specifically URC 422 and UCP 500, as UCP 500 had just been implemented a year earlier, in January 1994. 

Initially, I struggled to grasp these rules, so I often stayed late at the office, where Ramamani patiently helped me understand the intricacies involved. I remember starting with the Documentary Credit advising activity, which required affixing a large stamp on each telex message as part of a checklist. While this task was straightforward, it included Nostro reconciliation activities, such as managing foreign currency cheques sent for collection, with USD being the dominant currency at the time. 

As I grew more proficient, I took on additional responsibilities, including surprise monthly balancing, Export Collections, and Discounting. I was excited by the work, especially as my starting salary of INR 1,800 gradually increased to INR 2,400. One memorable challenge was with the discounting activity. Initially, I struggled to understand the process, particularly when it came to discounting Salem Textile bills in Italian Lira. One Friday, I couldn't complete all the discounting and left some for Saturday, not realizing the implications. When I informed Ramamani that I planned to discount four of the remaining twelve bills on Saturday, she was shocked to learn I had reported a currency purchase but hadn’t utilized it. 

Back then, we reported currency transactions via a handwritten notebook sent to the Treasury unit, and my lack of understanding led to a loss for the bank when I had to sell the unused currency at a new rate on Monday. I also fondly remember the days I felt overwhelmed, especially when I had to wait for cold tea before I could take a sip. Having previously worked at LIC, where I enjoyed sipping hot tea, I missed my lunch often, leading to tears when friends from LIC would call to ask if I had eaten. Over time, I learned to prioritize lunch and started enjoying meals in the staff canteen, where a hearty lunch cost only around INR 10-12, including a boiled egg. The earlier I went for lunch, the hotter the sambhar! 

There were many lighthearted moments, too. While searching for old records in the records room, colleagues joked about there being cameras monitoring us because we often spent time chatting instead of working. I don’t recall seeing any CCTV at HSBC in 1995-96, so I guess they were introduced later. 

At the beginning of each month, we received travel allowances in cash, often in new crisp RBI notes, which made us feel proud to bring home fresh currency. Mother used to feel proud holding those new notes - A privilege for Bank employees. My daily pocket money for lunch was INR 10, and I was also entitled to trimester subway passes. 

As I grew to enjoy my work, I found myself spending long hours at the office, occasionally taking the first train home the next morning and even missing my stop a few times! I had to rush back to work again after having my shower and breakfast. Saturdays were particularly fun, with half-day shifts that allowed for outings after work. I fondly remember going to three consecutive movies with colleagues one Saturday.

I appreciated the well-written ABCD guides for each department in HSBC, which made it easy to learn and transition between roles. I am also grateful for the Basics of Trade training I attended at Tollygunj Club in Calcutta, where I took my first flight and returned with Rasgullas and “Moda” (two of them- used for sitting!). 

Despite my happiness at HSBC, the burden of my father’s debts motivated me to seek new opportunities that offered better pay. Within 30 odd months at HSBC, I had covered all the desks within the Bills Department, handling both exports and imports. Guarantees were managed by the Credit Administration unit at that time. 

This brief but formative experience laid the groundwork for my career in Trade Finance. I still remember Mr. Raymond Lobo, the HR Manager at HSBC, telling me that I would always be welcome to return. My time at HSBC ignited my ambition to dream big, inspiring me to aspire to become a Head of Trade one day!