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My lyadh breakfast |
The closest that one can come to the Bengali word lyadh in English is laze. However one can argue that lyadh, or lyadh khawa as the phrase goes, is a cultural statement, an emotion, a state of mind. That it cannot be translated into another language.
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Baby Loaf is the king of lyadh |
You need to feel it in your bones. You are born into it.
Lyadh cannot be taught. That it’s as intrinsically Bengali as an Uttam Suchitra chhayachhobi, an East Bengal Mohun Bagan derby match, or a plate of steaming hot alu bhaate. With deem sheddo.
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Nimki has a lot to say on lyadh in his podcast |
Putting your feet up, reading The Statesman, Bortoman or Anondo Bajar Patrika in the morning, waiting for phulko luchi and shada alur torkari to emerge from the kitchen is lyadh.
Hanging out with friends at the corner tea shop, discussing how the country is going to the dogs while you dig into your packet of muri tele bhaaja, is lyadh.
Lying in bed, a well thumbed copy of Maugham or Lawrence in hand, watching the skies cloud outside is lyadh.
Lyadh is what I felt this morning after going to sleep late last night after cleaning up cat puke which I spotted on the way to the kitchen for a very late night cookie run. I wasn’t sure which of the boys were responsible but I had a feeling it was Loaf and patted and cuddled him. I thought that the puke would put me off the cookies but no such luck. The pecan nut salted caramel cookies from La Folie were so good that I had half eventually, then another half, then one more and then the last cookie standing. Nonsense, is all I could say about my lack of discipline.
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I am at my happiest when Loaf does a #chetepute |
I slept longer than usual today and woke to Loaf sniffing my face and then vigorously rubbing his cheek against my feet. Kitty hugs. As if to say thank you for for last night.
Then Nimki got up and sat by my feet too. As he does every morning when I wake up.
I realised that it was time to do the right thing and got up and fed the boys. They made me happy be polishing off their plates.
It was 1030. I decided to loll in bed a bit longer. Ignoring the DMs and whatsapps piling up. Nothing was critical. Nothing usually is.
When croissant met kasundi
I eventually got up and made myself the perfect lyadh breakfast. I put an egg to boil and went for a shower first. Came to the kitchen later and toasted the croissant from Baker’s Dozen that our friend and neighbour, Gia had given us, in the oven as it was in the fridge for a couple of days. I sliced the boiled egg, halved the croissant and tucked the slices in between. Then added a dab of the thick textured aam kasundi from The Bengal Stores that our friend Pritha Sen had sent us. The flavours of which were well balanced and this Bengali mustard paste had pieces of pickled mango too.
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The Bengal Store kasundi can be ordered from their site |
The combination was made in heaven and why wouldn’t it be?
According to the Brits and the Americans, if there’s anyone who gets lyadh in Europe, it would be the Dijon mustard loving French from the land of croissants.
Our friend who gifted the croissant to us is half Goan and the word that comes closest to the Bengali lyadh in Indua is the Goan sousegado.
How is that for six degrees of separation at breakfast?
P
PS: I lay in bed after breakfast and typed this on the phone to get fully into the spirit of lyadh. Method writing you could say.