It’s funny how when I was growing up, I assumed a lot of brands were Indian. Like Bata, Colgate or even Horlicks. I never for a moment though Singer was a common feature in households outside India. And now, as they become one of the ‘retro-look’ staples, I feel ancient – really, something I grew up with is retro now?

But much as I loved books, I always bought my books at HigginBotham’s because I thought it had something to do with Ian Botham. People were still telling young impressionable children like me about the Ashes in 1981. In my head, any book bought at HigginBotham’s got me closer to Ian Botham.

(Actually, I love you HigginBotham’s. You saved me from a life of literary privation. And you made a small eight year old girl feel like she was shaking hands with Ian Botham.)

Let me start with a confession though – I have never known what to do with a ‘juicer’. I am not particularly found of juice, and while shopping around for a food processor, every one of those focused on making juice out of something or the other. Between discussions about wattage, blades, attachments and jars, I felt utterly lost. I tried a few – but in the end the kind of cooking I do (from grinding masalas, making chutneys to throwing in a piece of turmeric) needed a desi mixer-grinder. So this time when I was in India, I decided to buy one.

As an aside, for my mother, it is a Sumeet or nothing. But a Sumeet was nowhere to be found in the depths of Gurgaon.

Anyhow, while shopping for a food processor, one of the features that is sold to you is the ‘locking system’, which means unless the jar is perfectly aligned and closed, it won’t operate. In the UK it’s usually ‘Your hands are safer this way, because you may turn it on unintentionally – and we all know what blood does to ground coffee beans‘.

The sales pitch in India was along the lines of ‘Your maid can’t ruin this mixer grinder with her chopped off fingers and so it’s a good investment‘. The realities in both countries glare at you. (Also, the sales guy lost a little respect for me I think.)

In search for the right mixer-grinder, I went to Spencer’s, Croma, Big Bazaar and a few other places. All of them had pretty much the same products, but in the end it was the store that asked me questions about how I was going to use, how often I would operate it, if I wanted a juicer, if it was going to be used in India or elsewhere got my business. Not so much because I thought they were honest. Every store has its pet product it pushes – but any interest in how I will use this little beast, makes me feel like the sales rep is recommending after considering.

But the final word? My sister’s. She and her new extended family own one particular brand and make, all bought in the last few years. Done. Decided.

This time, more than ever, and perhaps because I was there on work – I really did spend a lot of time figuring out what stores make me happy, where I like to buy things, and what convinces me. Turns out, I am real easy. Talk to me, make me feel slightly important (even if I am only buying a piddly mixer-grinder) and pretend you’re offering me a discount. See – Easy.

PS – How many bloody jars does one really need in a food processor?

Also I made besan laddoos. So any extra weight I’ve added on in the last three days is also bonus. But not the kinds I particularly desire.

But in the meanwhile… Here’s the link (again).

But what about new ones? How much shelf space should I actually set aside for them?

Is it time for an ebook reader then? I never resisted digital music players, digital cameras and the like. And yet with ebook readers, I feel this incredible resistance. Which seems utterly pointless. I’ve dragged many books across the seas, and I am a bit tired of their weight and space consuming nature. And while Libraries are an option, I want to be able to go back to these books if need be, and I find it easier to have instant access to reading material.

Opting for an ebook reader feels like a life-changing choice. I am aware that I will still have to buy some books – the lovely ones with pictures, books that are hard to find and the like. But given the constant travel (where sometimes it feels like I spend half my working week on a train) – the idea of not carrying a couple of heavy books feels like certain relief.

I like to think of myself as a reader rather than a book collector. I like the warm glow of paper books – but I am tired of carrying an entire library around. And yet, the stupid, silly, childish resistance.

It’s time to take the plunge. I just don’t know how cold the water is.

PS: Ever noticed how for some people their book collections are like their receptionists. They are communicating aspects of themselves. I like looking at a person’s bookshelf. But perhaps I have enough books to make that gentle introduction to the wayward house guest.

I took a day off work and played with emulsion, screens, tracing paper, inks, squidgy boards, vacuum paper desks to create this –

It was wonderful. I made six lovely prints – each one with its own imperfections and paint mixing patterns.

The exhilaration I felt made me realise how much I miss doing something new. How much I miss writing. But this will have to do for now…