I love Bhindi. You may know this green, shapely vegetable as Okra or Lady Finger. Yes, we Asians have a sense of humour and knack for naming the underdogs in an inappropriate, sexist manner. Which is usually factually inaccurate. I mean ‘Lady Finger’ – I am a lady and none of my fingers resemble a Bhindi. Open invitation – check for yourself.
Anyway. Back to Bhindi, my love. It enrages me when someone cannot appreciate the flavours of this vegetarian marvel and has the audacity to despise it. Like seriously! How can anyone dislike Bhindi? It is the queen of veggies, trend starter, mood maker, love enabler and satisfaction guarantor. If I had a daughter, I would have named her Bhindi. If I ever launch that fashion label that I have been meaning to since 2014, I would call it Okra. If I ever open an adult toy store on outskirt of Cologne, no brainer that it’d be called Lady Finger. It’s freaking genius!
If you only think about the versatility of it, you’d be amazed. Open admiration. Surrender. You can make it as a bhaaji by adding your tired-but-trusted spices. Fill them up with some masala and fry them for a finger licking audience. Mix it with achaar, aloo, qeema or even besan, and it will manage to stand on its own two (or one?) tasteful feet. There is no beating this woman. Don’t ever try, Susan.
For people with higher conscious (read: too bloody demanding), Ms. Bhindi comes with a whole range of health benefits as well. Take a page from Mother India’s diary – she soaks them overnight and makes dad drink the water next day to help with his sugar and cholesterol levels.
Heck, it would even help Susan grow her hair thicker and longer (I understand S, blond and Russian, for no fault of your own. It will get better darling). If this isn’t throwing ball out of the park, pray tell me what is.
Oh, you want more? Listen to this – Okra’s stem has fibre that is now being used to make rugs and carpets in India. I mean, I am all for a bhindi throw in my lounge. Bring it on.
Lastly, confession (read: coming clear about this ridiculously brilliant piece that you just read). I desperately needed to write at 2AM. Imagine an alcoholic, needing that chug of whiskey on a cold, lonely December night. That is exactly how I felt. But I didn’t have anything to write about – or more like that I lacked mental organisation to pen something serious, sombre and snore-worthy, so I decided to beat the keys for bhindi, for what deserves more love than THAT lady.
DO NOT HIT UNSUBSCRIBE. Pyaar, Bhindi Gang.