Shrimp Curry

There is this humongous mysterious misty Eucalyptus filled jungle standing tall between civilized world and the habitat of savages. A jungle so immeasurably dense that the trees lost track of whose leaves were whose. Darkness and densness consumed all the greens and golden rays of the sun. They say the sun never blazes over there and the moon is always curled up in darkness like a phantom in the forest.

My curious eyes tried to penetrate the jungle and see what lies on the other side. All my unsuccessful attempts left me with some burning questions:

Do their damsels get deliriously happy and dance barefoot on the moonlit sand seeing and touching the burst of colors from the deep purple beans grown in their gardens?

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Like us, do they make those drop dead gorgeous pile of Amber split lentil Halwa in Spring evenings?

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 Like us, do they savor tea in every single Magnolia-morning to warm up their stiff souls?

Do their grandmas hold the precious babies on the lap under the far away stars and whisper lullaby in their ears?

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Do they, in a high heated noon, after the rain, watch the rainbow rising from the horizon while enjoying some Pomegranate-pearl studded Apple salad?

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 Do their fish cutlets flood with a luster of gold like ours?

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 Does their version of wildly luxurious coconut-carrot soup smell like sweet dreams?

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 Do they worship soul-foods in their cold, blue, lonely, chilly days like we do?

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Back then I was 16 and I already figured out a world full of urban sleepwalkers where nobody was actually awake. A world full of churning hatred, human heart like verbal firing squad, bitter suspicions… A world busy with mocking, angry talk, spreading vicious debate, heated conversations….

I’d be better off in the jungle. So, I surrendered to this dark, seductive, irresistible allure …. I crossed the jungle. I met the habitat who has chosen exile. And I spotted their emerald island. It was unearthly.

There were color and beauty everywhere. Smooth black skin, ruby red Hibiscus tucked in the hair, saffron shirts, peacock blue sarees. White hearts.

They wore more color and happiness than these Persimmons.

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The said ‘savages’ did not howl, leap, spun, and made horrid faces at me. They were just a small clan of tribal people who cares-a-damn about so called modern civilization and happily decided to dwell into the woods.

They treated me as one of their own with some Orange-Shrimp. Sweet, earthy scent intoxicated my senses. It made me lose my mind. It carried me to the other side of paradise instantly.

Every inch of that bowl, every particle of the ingredients was filled with warmth. And this dish sent me into full-throttle bliss.

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Recipe

1 1/2 cups fresh orange juice

2 tablespoons finely chopped onion, garlic, ginger

1/2 teaspoon crushed red chili flakes. (Couple of green chilies will also do)

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil

2 pounds large shrimp, shelled and deveined

Chopped parsley, for garnish

Steamed rice, for serving

* In a saucepan, saute onion, garlic, ginger, chili in olive oil for 5 minutes. Pour juice. Bring it  to a boil. Add shrimps. Simmer over high heat until reduced to 1/2 cup, about 15 minutes.

* Season with salt and sugar.

* Garnish with parsley and serve with rice.

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Heat, sweetness, tartness, beauty and inherent likability are all at play into one single dish. But It was not the quantity of the dishes but the cheerfulness of the hosts which made the feast.

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With each step back towards the civilized world, I must digest the brutal fact: those colorful characters do not spend their income on war and guns. Only hunting and survival tactics they practice which they Inherited from their ancestors. They do not exhibit the savage practice of killing each other off; they are erudite savages who labor hard for peace.

The latticework of love all over that place reveals another brutal truth: those barbarous people are not a part of our savagery-wrapped civilization. They are beautiful, mythical ; straight out of a Novel.

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Those ‘savages’ will overflow their guests with kindness even if they cordially dislike them. We bombard who we dislike.

 Category: Bangladeshi, Curry, Fish, Seafood      Tagged:

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