The Purity of things

I am a purist at heart.

Yesterday we stopped to snack at Banana Leaf and my over-enthused South Indian alter ego ordered spicy idlis cooked Andhra style. Now, I expected the pristine White mounds surrounded by a bed of spices, instead I was greeted by something so different that I choked at the very first mouthful.

And so I satisfied myself with just the plain old idlis.

I realised that I am a purist then.

I hate combinations, fusions, mixing of foods/ music/ language...

At weddings, my family would eat eloquent off mixed Gulab Jamun and ice-cream and I would hate the thought of it, so much so, I refused to even look at such a concoction.

East and West don't mingle in my mind.

Similarly, I hate the concept of fusion music. I may listen to it for lack of better aural pleasure but you won't find a single downloaded piece on my playlist.

And how I hate those who mix English and Hindi. I secured really high marks in both Board exams in both languages- well above 95% each and I am in love with English. I have even decided to study further - so you can imagine how I would suffer to see such a lovely language - twisted and tortured to suit the speaker.

So call me old fashioned if you will, but not for me- Indian Ocean, rabri with custard or 'latkao-fying'....