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[desitweets]

What's it is indian moms and their absolute need to marry off their child by 25?

[desitweets]

woke up and someone spilled vanilla extract all over my dash, so as punishment you strange little beasties are getting all the VANILLA FACTS i know:

vanilla is the 2nd most expensive spice in the world (2nd to saffron)

which is why more than 99% of what we call "vanilla extract" is actually vanillin (vanilla's dominant flavor compound) and is not extracted from real vanilla.

luckily, even professionals struggle to tell the difference when it comes to things like baked goods. but there is a distinct difference in non-heat treated products like vanilla ice cream. real vanilla has a more complex, individualized flavor profile.

why is vanilla so expensive? because it is a ridiculously delicate & demanding crop. complete primadonna.

vanilla beans come from vanilla orchids. these crazy flowers bloom for A SINGLE DAY and have to be HAND-POLLINATED in a process that is exhausting, delicate, and requires specialist knowledge passed down over generations.

then, if you're lucky, you get vanilla beans.

which then require months of further specialized treatment.

the entire process takes about a year and can go wrong at any stage

vanilla has been cultivated for over 800 years (possibly much longer). the first known cultivators are the Totonac, an indigenous people of Mexico.

the Aztecs used it as a sweetener to balance out the bitter taste of cocoa. it was popular in a drink called xocolatl--the precursor to modern hot chocolate!

it is only pollinated by a very specific orchid bee!!!

which is why no fruit could be grown outside of Mexico until the 1800s

Edmond Albius, born into slavery, invented the pollination method we still use today--launching a global industry when he was just 12 years old.

today, the majority of the world's vanilla is grown in Madagascar

if you want real vanilla, read the labels carefully--it's harder to find than you think!

in conclusion, those tiny black specks you see in fancy vanilla ice cream? those are vanilla bean seeds! itty bitty orchid seeds!!! they are delicious and also a PRISSY BITCH!

(src)

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🥴🥴🥴

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*when things get hard*

Me: maybe I should just open a vadapav stall

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Pokémon Trading Card Game art by Aya Kusube (2000)

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Me crushing on fictional characters like:

[desitweets]

One Art And Two Liars

I think I was 14, when I read Elizabeth bishop's infamous poem - 'One Art' for the first time; after partially hearing it in the movie 'in her shoes'. I remember bawling over it as if the pain from the words were coming from somewhere deep within me. I had just lost a bestfriend due to miscommunication, jealousy,pettiness or simply teenage situationships.

'The art of losing isn’t hard to master;so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster.'

My heartbroken teenage self just truly wanted to believe that. That somethings are just found so they could be lost again. I cried over this poem, with a broken heart, an apology I never got, and an apology I never gave.

Years have gone by now and I will be 22 this year. I have grown and grown up. I raised myself to be an intellectual, took the path of the sciences and trying my best to build a life for myself.

But in all the technicalities of my basic existence, competition and speed of the world that we live in, today I found Elizabeth Bishop again.

My eyes trembled upon 'One Art' again.

And this poor heart cried again.

I have lived and loved and lost and loved and lived and lost again. But the world teaches you, trains you to shove it deep within and move on as you have no time, there are other important things you have to work on.

Feelings, the pain, the people? They will come and go along.

As I read through this beautiful poem again,

I thought of my hostel room keys and the notes I lost, the phone numbers I didn't gave and hidden glances across the room and the tea which was always hot. The moments I yearn for but are lost.

Friends I made and the great team we were, the dances, the classroom romances,the laundry days, 12 am, a little something about him and something about her.

Year 2020 and the zoom calls. The new internet era we found and some dear ones we lost.

The things I wanted to do, and places I didn't go. And how 2021 was hardest I had ever known.

My childhood home and the childhood friend. The cities I traveled, lived and left. The plans that never got executed and how we are forgetting each other's names.

But life goes on, the moments I yearn for are getting lost again.

But losing you, as each face flashes in front of my eyes, just pains.

And how each time I master this art of self deception, a part of me gets lost in translation.

As sad is this poem maybe, I surely admire,

how now i read this as a grown up, i know for a fact, the poet and I are both beautiful liars.

The Poem:

[desitweets]

Sometime I think my friends are just pure assholes

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Since I know I am going to procrastinate anyway I start my day by wasting time in every case possible so that once the 'waste quest' is done I can actually do some productive work.

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It feels like I am stuck in an era which I cant live nor I can leave

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Is it me or this stupid weather is making everyone lonelier and hornier?

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So india is out of T20. Um. I am angry and sad and I dont care at the same time? But I still care?