This looks golden, smells great, and tastes wonderful. The only thing to be careful about is to keep the heat slow while caramelising. We want it golden, but overdo it by just a few seconds and the sugar burns and makes it bitter.

In the sandy deserts of Rajasthan, a girl sings that her beloved had promised to return to the village and her in the rainy season. Without him, she finds her homeland lonely.

Sri Maha Lakshmi Ashtak was composed by Indra, and is written in Padma Purana. In Bangalore, I find ladies singing it in temples as commonly as Durga Chalisa is sung in temples of North India.

The human mind is far more fertile, far more incredible and mysterious than land, but it works the same way. It doesn't care what we plant...success...or failure. A concrete, worthwhile goal...or confusion, misunderstanding, fear, anxiety and so on.

This sort of love which flies away is not considered love. That is considered attachment. That love which does not grow is not love, Then what it is? It is called attachment. Attachment is mother of all miseries.

Each time you start dreaming about how perfect your life would be if...come back to this moment, give thanks for what is, and do one thing to perfect what you have and who you are right now.

Sri Sri Ravishankar says that the mind leaves the body and goes with the soul at the time of death. This mind gives us enough trouble in life, the chattering, restless mind…