By the end of last year, I was consistently suffering from cramps and odd neuro sensations in both my legs, a rise in blood pressure and sleeplessness. In fact my sleep hours reduced to two to four hours – a serious cause of worry because lack of proper sleep tends to increase BP and other dysfunctionalities.
It was a passing mention to my physician that made her prescribe Magnesium supplements which led to overall improvement in my physical condition. She also advised me to take walnuts not more than two a day, some munakkas and little portions of dark chocolate – all rich sources of magnesium – however, with a caveat to keep a check on body weight.
It’s strange that we don’t know what’s happening inside our bodies till symptoms surface. I did not know the importance of Magnesium in human bodies till I suffered its deficiency or hypomagnesemia. Checking on the net I found that the symptoms often go unnoticed until levels are quite low.
The symptoms of Magnesium deficiency include muscle cramps/twitches/spasms, muscular weakness, overall fatigue, numbness or tingling sensations (pins and needles) in the hands, feet or face, irregular heartbeats or arrhythmia, heart palpitation, high blood pressure, poor sleep, loss of appetite, nausea, headaches/migraines, anxiety and in severe cases weakened bones, (osteoporosis), severe electrolyte (sodium and potassium) imbalance causing delirium or seizures.
Required quantity (per day) of Magnesium in our body varies with age:
Adult Men (19–30): 400 mg Adult Men (31+): 420 mg Adult Women (19–30): 310 mg Adult Women (31+): 320 mg Pregnant Women: 350–400 mg Breastfeeding Women: 310–360 mg Children & Teens: Requirements range from 80 mg for young children (1-3 years) to higher amounts for teenagers.
Magnesium is found in a wide variety of plant and animal foods, especially green leafy vegetables, nuts, seeds, legumes, and whole grains. Top sources include pumpkin seeds, chia seeds, spinach, cashews, almonds, flaxseeds, black beans, edamame, and dark chocolate.
Generally foods containing dietary fiber are good sources of magnesium. Other nutrition sources are tofu, soy milk, lentils, peanuts, brown rice, quinoa, oatmeal, whole wheat, avocado, salmon, potatoes with skin and bananas.
The quantity of Magnesium available in various food sources are :
Pumpkin Seeds (156mg/1oz)
Chia Seeds (111mg/1oz)
Almonds (80mg/1oz)
Cashews (74mg/1oz)
Peanuts (48mg/30g)
Spinach Cooked (78mg/½ cup)
Swiss Chard (75mg/½ cup)
Beet Greens (98mg/cup)
Black Beans (120mg/cup)
Edamame (100mg/cup)
Dark Chocolate 70-85% (64mg/1oz)
Quinoa (118mg/cup)
Brown Rice (72mg/½ cup)
Avocado (58mg/whole)
Salmon (30mg/100g)
Milk (28mg/1 cup)
Chicken Breast (24mg/80g)
But excess of anything is also not desirable. Excess magnesium or hypermagnesemia usually results from kidney dysfunction (when kidneys are not able to flush out excess magnesium) or excessive supplement intake causing symptoms like nausea, hypotension (low blood pressure), diarrhea, confusion, and muscle weakness. Severe cases can lead to respiratory paralysis, dangerous heart rhythm changes (arrhythmia), coma or cardiac arrest.
So, a regular check on Magnesium in the body and topping it up with dietary supplements, if falling below requisite level, is a must.
“Of course, you! Making the same mistakes again and again.”
She fluffed her body up unnecessarily
“What!!! I almost screamed, “You observe me?”
“Yessss! You are observable.”
She scrutinized me from head to toe.
A few times more.
“Wh..wh…att so funny about me?”
I asked in spite of myself.
“Well! Let me see.”…”Hmmm…”
She said finally, ” I like the way you trust the ones who have betrayed you more than once.”
She sighed emphatically and then continued,
“And befriend those again and again who are unreliable to the core.”
At this point she looked at me quizzically,
“And then you have the gumption to crib and complain to God ‘Why me ? Oh Lord!’ Hehehe…Hehehe…”
Her laughter sounded demoniacal.
I rounded her up with red eyes,
“Don’t you make mistakes? You supercilious woman…nay…demon.”
“Of course I do.” She said calmly.
“But I know how to pay them back too. In my own sweet way..” She said pompously.
“Ahem!” She cleared her throat, “To give you a burning example…”
“The day you forget to serve the kibbles to that mongrel, of which I get a generous share, I make it a point to make the best of my poop at your doorstep.”
I wanted to say, “How you dare”!!!!!
But I kept my piece to myself instead and added quietly, “That means I should also reciprocate the way those wanton creatures have behaved with me?”
She nodded sagely at first but then shook her head gravely,” But I know you will not be able to. You are too much of a softeeee….And that high and mighty “forgiving and forgetting” business at which you keep without rest..It’s not going to take you anywhere unless you break free like me…”
At this juncture she turned her head to the sky thoughtfully.
And then cocked her head back at me and shrugged energetically.
I stood there with a solemn face thinking whether I’d ever be able to join her race.
“Aah! I guess it’s not to be,” She said at last resignedly.
“You are not made that way and you cannot change your ways too.”
“Never mind. Forget what I said. Keep doing what you do best. Let your own heart bleed and soul suffer with zest. Sannu kii? (That’s what’s it to me?)”
“As you writhe and roll in self inflicted pain it’ll give another occasion to me to laugh at you again.”
With this callous confession she made it to the top most branch of my Champs tree.
One of the reasons I don’t drive is my lack of sense of direction and the passion for losing my way. Once an auto driver had told me to “straighten my left and right” first before giving him further directions. He was understandably cheesed off given the chaotic traffic in the city, rogue driving of other commuters and in the midst of all this my weird sense of bends and turns.
Some do deal with me with casual humour too. I had just been transferred back to the capital after eight long years. The place where I had got my accommodation was new to me. One afternoon I was going back home from the market in a rickshaw. Nearing the block I suddenly got confused and could not locate the flat I rented. When I apologetically said to the poor man, ” Bhaiya (big brother) I live here but I don’t know where the flat is,” he assured me that I had the rest of the day to look for it.
It’s a common joke in my family that if I give directions to someone it’s a given the person to not reach the location ever. But the most memorable faux pas of my life was when I got into the wrong car thinking it was my own.
It so happened that my nephew had driven me to the local pharmacy to get mother’s medicines. I was sitting in the back seat while my elder sister was seated next to my nephew in front. That time I had a silver grey Wagon R which was the most common vehicle in sight on the road. Every two persons out of three owned a silver grey MAV (Multi Activity Vehicle).
That fateful evening, I got down , walked up to the store, purchased the required medicines and returned to where the vehicle was parked. The sun had not set and there was enough light. I opened the door on the co-driver’s side (totally forgetting that I was seated in the back a while ago), sat down and ordered ,”Let’s Go!”
But the car did not move an inch. Wondering why I turned my head to look at my nephew…But wait! Who was this…???? In place of my young nephew sat a burly middle aged man with eyes almost round with something between shock and disbelief !!!
The next second I was out of the car like a streak and dashed towards my own which was right behind. I don’t remember if I had mumbled an apology to the stranger though I guess I must have since the fault was entirely mine. But later thinking about the incident what bothered me most was if anyone of his family was around , like his wife or girlfriend , we being in the middle of the marketplace and he seemed to be waiting, whether she had seen me getting in and out of his car and what must have happened thereafter.
If you ask me now I don’t clearly remember the man’s face. But it’s odd what all the memory bank of a human mind stores – a dark face… a pair of black, bushy moustache and that look of surprise mixed with incredulity in his eyes!!
Sure I”ll never forget those eyes… Forever…
😂😂😂😂
However, after this mishap I always check the vehicle number before getting in. Trust me on that…
Incidentally, one of my very good friends (who has left us all in a hurry) called me an unconscious comedian.
In the month of February this year I took part in a blogging contest #WriteAPageADay held by Blogchatter, a Blog Directory Site, wherein the contestants had to write ten thousand words by the end of the month.
I readily participated thinking it would give me an impetus to post daily. Personally, I decided to write one thousand words a day. Though I reached the 10K goalpost by mid month I could not achieve my personal target.
Thousand words a day meant writing either a short story or a short essay everyday. Given the fact that I do not write long posts reaching anywhere near twenty eight thousand words by the month end was an enormous and unachievable target even if I uploaded more than one post a day.
In work life and Management studies the stress is always laid on practical and realistic goals. In my enthusiasm I had set a goal which was unrealistic. I am not a very disciplined writer. Unlike many, I write when I feel like and keep to a certain word limit. I guess, I should have focussed on a more easily attainable word count given the usual length of my posts.
Having realised that, I’d also confess that I ventured into a game which is a complete anti to my nature. Participating in a contest means being consistently competitive. Frankly, by mid month, I had lost interest in the whole project. Being an unambitious person the idea of winning does not thrill me for long.
An amount of healthy competition is good for work and life. But who decides what and how much is healthy? One of my bosses even considered his subordinates as rivals. And that exhausting battle to secure an ‘Outstanding’ in the yearly appraisal !! Seriously, not me.
To end on my favourite mantra – what one gets in life is what one is deserving of and things happen when one is ripe for it.
I see people keeping, rather owning pets, but not taking care of them which makes me very angry.
Be responsible. Your pets are like your family members. Don’t treat them as furniture pieces or merely as status symbols. Love them. Care for them. Attend to their needs. They depend on you.
Recently I bought a shirt on Amazon. In fact, having lost a lot of weight last year and now regaining again I was not sure of my current size. However, the top fits me but being used to wearing loose fittings, the right size feels tight. But I decided to keep it as a benchmark for losing more weight so that I am comfortable in it. Howzzzat!! 😂😂
***
Gotta radio. Yeah, you heard me right. As I play it I am transported to my childhood. At the fag end of life, the only excitement is in recreating the past.
***
To cope with the recent LPG crisis got an Induction Cooking System with a compatible Prestige Pressure Cooker for self and Didi. Made aaloo-chholiya , boiled channa and green papaya curry. All successfully cooked and eaten but the taste seems different. Call it psychological.
Didi is efficiently utilising her Air Fryer. Two nights back it was saboo dana tikki to commemorate Nav Ratri. The night next it was hara bhara or green kebaab. And then the cherry on the top – came the taco. All were extremely well made. I have given her the title of Kebaab Queen of the family, following her culinary achievements.
***
Though I blog through the Jetpack App, at times I visit the site on my laptop to screen the comments on spam. Lately, got such sweet , flowery messages of appreciation – location unknown. Deleted them right away. But I guess I am becoming famous. That’s another way of looking at AI intrusion.
***
I see a decrease in the number of my subscribers. I wonder what they were expecting from my posts. Anyway, those stay are my niche readers. A heartfelt thank you and God bless to all of them.
***
However, my daily stats are dwindling. And it’s in red. That means I need to engage more. But with all the other priorities – house work, readings, exercises, walks, family time and other leisure activities – I can only carve out this much time for WP.
That said, I think am not reading as many posts of my co-bloggers as I should. So I guess off and on I am going to play truant…stop posting and read more. Though, my intent and effort will be to do both.
***
My garden does not have many flowering plants. It’s hard to maintain them. I have more green foliage. This and yesterday morning I caught on camera the fresh greens coming up on old branches. They look so shiny and velvety. Have a look.
The name of the village is Bishnupur, Bankura district, West Bengal. Jaggyaseni, a student of Criminal Psychology, has come to spend a few days with her grandmother, Girija Bala Sanyal. She also intends to attend her friend, Amrapali Singha Roy’s wedding. Amrapali hails from an influential political family.
In Bengali weddings, Shubho Drishti, is an important and most entertaining custom wherein the bride and groom see each other’s face for the first time. Till then the bride covers her face with two betel leaves held by both hands. Shubho Drishti also precedes the next crucial step of Maala Badol that is the exchange of garlands by bride and groom. The brothers or friends of the bride carry her on a peedee, a very low plank-like wooden stool, to the groom who waits under the Chhandna tola (a makeshift decorated shelter) for the first sighting. The bride sitting on the stool is rotated round the groom a few times before the garlands are exchanged amidst a lot of fun and teasing.
Imagine the shock and surprise of the family and other attendees when Amrapali topples over from the stool held high during the ritual and falls flat on the ground. Is it an accident? Is Amrapali too exhausted as she has to fast throughout the day of marriage as per tradition ? Is she unconscious? No… She is dead!!!!
The local police arrive to take the body for the postmortem. The family resists. But a firm voice from the crowd insists that an autopsy is required in this case – it’s Girija Bala’s calm and composed instruction!! The family gives in before the village elder. The finding of the report says Amrapali has been poisoned.
Soon thereafter, a series of murders, all cases of locally unavailable poison-ing, take place one after the other, shattering the peace of the laid back village. Six in total but according to Girija it’s seven. She cannot discount Harimati’s cut throat and a blood stained note of warning stuck to her collar. Yes, Hari or Harimati is Girija’s pet cat – the mother of the grieving siblings – Bella and Fonte named after Girija’s favourite singer – Harry Belafonte!!!!
Bishnupur, in fact the entire Bankura district, being dominated by Vaishnav culture and tradition (Krishna devotion), it is not surprising that symbols of Lord Krishna are found beside all the dead bodies indicating some kind of divine retribution.
Thus, pair up the unlikely duo – a sexagenarian grandmother leading a quiet and lonely life in her ancestral home and her London returned, very young and fresh granddaughter – to nab the coldblooded serial killer – a task, as Girija surmises, is beyond the calibre of the confused and harassed local PS In-charge Brihaspati who alleges her of unnecessarily trying to be the indigenous Ms Marple.
Srabanti Chatterjee (38) as Girija Bala (in her sixties) shines. A shout out to the village cop Brihaspati underplayed by Rahul Arunoday Banerjee.
Thakumar Jhuli or Grandmother’s Satchel on Hoichoi is a coming of age investigative journey of an unusual pair – a disciplined , dignified, quietly strong baby boomer and an impatient and quick to jump to conclusions GenZ.
Incidentally, Thakumar Jhuli is also the name of the book of folk lores and fairytales which all Bengali kids are brought up on. But this thakuma (granny)has only whodunnits and howdunnits popping out of her jhuli (satchel).
Considering this is just the maiden Season be ready for more to come.
Postscript: This post is a kind of teaser for Hoichoi Series fans – Rajendraji and Aparna.
Trivia : Could not resist incorporating the link of HB’s famous Jamaican Fairwell, amusingly tweaked to Jamai Ka Fairwell – a tongue-in-cheek humour the Series is replete with.
No! No! I don’t mean those unutterable, unprintable obscenities and profanities people use in a state of extreme disgust, disdain, agony and exasperation. I mean those colloquial expressions whose etymological roots are ambiguous and socio cultural usages very diverse.
Once a driver was reversing his car talking on mobile. He stopped inches from the rickshaw I was in. Dhakkan, meaning a lid, befittingly describes the man exhibiting total lack of grey cells, common or civic sense. More intensely, it simply alludes to someone with an empty top storey or non functional cerebral receptors.
My younger nephew, during his college days, was quite taken up with the word chamanjhinga – not locatable in any Hindi dictionary. At first I thought it was his personal coinage but subsequently I have found that it actually refers to one of the iconic characters from the Hindi cult comedy movie Herapheri. How appositely the word describes people with the knack of repetitively committing enormous blunders – an almost pathological gravitation towards unparalleled idiocy.
An adjective which was frequently used amongst my office colleagues was chepu which must have been culled out of the verb chipakna meaning getting glued or pasted. A chepu is that incorrigible leech who latches on to you invariably in spite of your every attempt to get rid of him/her.
Saala is the word for wife’s brother – a very delicate relation – in whose good books the groom has to be for unabated marital bliss. Similarly, Saali is the sister of the wife – a frolicsome relationship – a perennial tease who has to be often pampered as a proven crucial medium for all kinds of communication engineering to ensure conjugal harmony. Regrettably both the words are also used derogatorily to demean or contempt someone. However, the word saala is also frequently used in friendly banters amongst boys.
Gadhera with a forceful stress on the ‘r’ is actually used to imply someone with asenine qualities. Personally, I feel those dumb (no pun intended) creatures are very humble and hard working who labour without any expectations. Gadha is the Hindi word for ass or donkey. It also means an utterly foolish person. Gadhera refers to the owner who is presumed to be as nincompoop as the beast of burden is. Incidentally, Gadhera is also a local term for a small natural water channel , stream or rivulet in Uttarakhand, one of the Northern States of India.
A very common slang is ullu ka pattha which literally means son of an owl – a subject of eternal mockery and scorn. It is commonly believed in this part that the owlish trait to keep awake at night and sleep during daytime is reflective of cognitive deficiency. Its exact corresponding slang in English will be sonofabitch. But the context and connotation of the former differs hugely from the latter. Ullu ka pattha refers to one given to unmitigated buffoonery, epitome of inexcusable incompetence, perpetuation of imbecility of the highest order beyond the point of redemption. It is again contrarily an address of affection too amongst male buddies.
I have heard elders say that to learn a language or to understand the ethos of a milieu, it is very important to know not only the history and heritage but also the colloquialism. Since, I am in the northern part of the subcontinent which is primarily a Hindi (speaking) belt, I have considered only those words and phrases which are commonly heard and used.
