The Perfect Fish for Lazy Cooks

I know I haven’t blogged in a long,  long time.  This is due to many reasons,  some of which include the following:
1)Holiday withdrawal symptoms
2)Heat makes me slack
3)I haven’t procrastinated like this since my Famous Five days.

As it so happens,  I’ve gone on a crazy cooking spree (which is kind of inspired and fueled by my ceaseless binge-viewing of Hannibal episodes.
Really.  Guys.
If you’re a foodie and take joy in not only the existence of food but the way it can be made into an entire art form on its own,  you want to watch this show).

So,  as I was saying,  I prepared this fish yesterday and it was quite possibly,  in the simplest terms, 
The easiest and least time consuming thing to make.
AND it tastes yummy.
No effort and all the benefits,  that’s what we love to hear, right? 
So all you couch potatoes and sloth enthusiasts,  take a shot at this. 

Baja-style grilled fish
(Use a soft, flavourful fish with flaky skin like red snapper or baangda)
1 tsp ground cumin (jeera)
1 tsp chilli powder
1 tbsp oregano
2 tsp (coarse) salt
4 tbsp Olive oil
1/4 cup chopped coriander

I used 5 pieces of fish.

Mix the spices and salt.  Stir In the Olive oil and coriander. 
With a knife,  make shallow slashes in the fish,  1 1/2 inches apart.
Rub both sides with spice mixture and refrigerate for 2-4 hours whilst you avidly watch Gotham or browse Reddit or talk to your shadow or whatever. 


Preheat oven to 240 • C, to the top element (grill option).
Grease your foil or pan and put the fish in to grill for 15-18 minutes. 
Turn them over after half the time is done,  so it gets cooked on both sides.

Take it out and devour and get fat.

Until next time.

I Nose my Cake

So I made a Nutella cake last night with this wonderful species of boy that is going full retard with a spatula.


It was pretty amazing mainly because it’s one of those Golden Finds on the internet- it literally contains 2 ingredients.

Also, I got bored of measuring the Nutella and decided to play around with it and be Masterchef-y.


So anyway, it’s done now and looks pretty amazeballs but since my cold has ravaged my senses so completely, I have absolutely NO idea what it even tastes like.

tumblr_na11u7v7gI1thmghro3_500 (2)

What sweet torture.



Hello hi bonjour!
As of today,  I am setting up shop on Tumblr as weaponofjargonblog. I will not be relocating,  but maintain both that and this wordpress account as well. Sort of like opening a townhouse and a summer beach house.  Except,  pssshh,  yeah right. 

……Ok I really tried to control it but I couldn’t,  “YOU GET THE BEEESSSSSST OF BOTH WORRRRRLDS,  WHEN YOU-

Ok.  Ok.  I’ll stop now.  Don’t hate me.

So,  YAY,  I’m super excited!  Do share with Tumblr account holders! 
Much love. 

Rain, Rain

The rains are finally here.
Not feebly trying to encroach into summer and hastily retreating forces, but here in all its burgeoning grey, brobdingnagian glory.

Who doesn’t love rain? Who doesn’t love lazing around? And who doesn’t love good literature?
So, to celebrate, I’ve put together a few excerpts from some of my most-loved poetry, quotes and ramblings(to do rain in both. negative and positive connotations), coupled with a few rain-themed photos I’ve clicked. Enjoy!

[Note: Click on the image to enlarge it to actual size]


“Several years later, from a taxi, you will see someone in a doorway who looks like her, but she will be gone by the time you persuade the driver to stop. You will never see her again.

Whenever it rains you will think of her. ”
― Neil Gaiman

“On the fifth day, which was a Sunday, it rained very hard. I like it when it rains hard. It sounds like white noise everywhere, which is like silence but not empty.”
Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time


“Heaven opened and the water hammered down, reviving the reluctant old well, greenmossing the pigless pigsty, carpet bombing still, tea-colored puddles the way memory bombs still, tea-colored minds.”
― Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things

“It rains
And rains
And rains.
But there is a sky above the rain,
Nothing can rot the sky.
Earth has turned to mud. What of it?
The heart of the planet is made of fire, of ardent sun.
(from “A Rainy Day”)”
Visar Zhiti, The Condemned Apple: Selected Poetry



“somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands”
― E.E. Cummings


I am beautiful pearls, plucked from the
Crown of Ishtar by the daughter of Dawn
To embellish the gardens.
I am beautiful pearls, plucked from the
Crown of Ishtar by the daughter of Dawn
To embellish the gardens.
The heat in the air gives birth to me,
But in turn I kill it,
As woman overcomes man with
The strength she takes from him.
-Song Of The Rain VII, Khalil Gibran.


And this might be considered a little nefarious of me, but-
“Soft as rain and strong as thunder
Between coffee breaks,
You tear me asunder.”
-Me, from a song I’m writing that is underway.

Hope you liked it :)
Now go out and catch a cold.

The Grey Envelope

The Grey Envelope

This is what Armageddon looks like. From the 23rd floor. Of Essar House.
Oh, and there was a fire in the middle of a mountain somewhere to the east.
Loving this day.

I think it’s unnatural to be brimming with this much glee at the thought/sight of an impending Apocalyptic-looking scene, but I think fellow Mumbaiites will understand where I’m coming from.

I can’t wait for that smell.
It’s finally here :D

Zaza, Queen of Peculiar


Meet Zahra,  my boss at the current temporary internship. 
So she looks like your regular yuppie,  who has been in front of the camera so frequently that it would take all of 0.26 seconds to go from normal to photo-ready-stance,  case in point :this picture,  and wears lace bows from Accessorize and has Garnier Long and Strong (I actually hate Garnier ) hair.

So what is so remarkable about her,  you ask?  Well,  obviously,  lots of things,  every person has remarkable things about them which I have probably not had access to because I hardly know her,  but discounting that fact, 
Here’s what:
On my first day of work,  she didn’t come in.  She was sick,  I’d heard. 

Viral?  Food poisoning? 
More like,  think of the most bizarre thing that could render a person indisposed and top that by about 70 points.
She dislocated her jawbone……whilst laughing.
I mean,  seriously.  Come on.
How does that even happen in real life?! 


And that’s not all.  She keeps a couple of brains,  yes brains,  in a jar next to another jar full of a green colored goop-looking substance on her work desk. 
When I nervously questioned as to its use she promptly replied,  “It helps me think”.
Like ‘Ohhhh, yes,  this is absolutely, irrefutably the  most unquestionably normal thing to do.  Keep brains in a jar to stimulate my thought processes.  Of course.’


Today,  she got stuck in this award-worthy position with her hand in a crevice behind a desk. 
Why am I not even surprised? 
Give it up for this girl who is a specimen of awesome. 
(Note: I don’t always look like I aged 60 years and like someone tried to fit 12 Easter eggs into a human face,  thanks).


This is a guest post by my talented writer friend,  Wayne,  whose blog is called FromBad2Verse.  It’s a fervent and bodacious poem,  I loved it!

Scream out my name.
Call it out. Loud. Fierce.
Let it echo in these concrete hills.
Screech, shriek, let you voice give out,
As neighbours hear your muffled shout.
You are my 3am cry, my afterglow sigh,
You are the sweet wetness on my lips, the rasp in my voice.
All you.
So all I ask is this.
Scream out for me, once, like you did before,
And I shall be yours,
For you shall never entice me by your whisper, now that I have heard you roar.