So here I am in Kuala Lumpur far from homeland and I am reading The Mistress of Spice , and obviously I have to get the craving to have muri with sorsher tel with kuchono piyaaj.
Hunt begins.
Objective: To find Bangali tel moshla..
Clue: None forthcoming
Avenues taken: Google Search, Orkut posts, Face book Posts, telephone to friends..and then friends of friends and of course last resort..ask on the road look alike Bangali's ..even our poor watchman is not spared!!
(BTW: Our watchman is Nepali..I tend to make such mistakes when I have an agenda)
Result : Nothing
As my craving reached an octave higher than the sopranos and somewhere in between a full scale opera , I decide that this will not do.
So I pack my bags and buy a plane ticket determined to have my sorshel tel and muri . For desperate times you need desperates measures. You cant blame me..its in my DNA. I can explain. As per the DNAHANDBOOK for idiots there is something called a Mitochondrial DNA.
I know it sounds a little off the track trying to explain Jhal Muri cravings with DNA compositions but I am trying to establish the link..all you have to do is take a deep breath and read on..

So there is this Mitochondria which generates energy through adenosine triphosphate which in turn is again related somewhere to metabolic pathways and everyone knows that for a Bengali Shorsher tel is the only metabolic pathway...there is , there was and there ever will be.
So here I am trying to restore my metabolic pathway in faraway Malaysia and yet I am not getting any breakthrough. Now I know what Newton went through before the apple fell on his head.
My ticket in hand I head for the airport and suddenly my anticipation turns into trepidation...I mean here I am all geared for sudden restoration of my being and there I am thinking what will I tell my father when I suddenly land up on 64 Santoshpur. Baba shorsher tel ar muri khabo?? My sudden victory seems to dwindle and fade. Alas, Watson we have to do it the hard way, which is to put it mildly not have jhal muri.
I stop the “Teksi” half way , and get down . The grumbling driver mumbles on about indecisive female passengers, does a speed u turn and drives on leaving me behind in a locality I have never ever bothered to venture on my own.
I stand stupefied and wonder what I should do , after all if I went back home I would be a disgraced soul with no solution to the craving that manifested itself into a obsession. In the midst of such inner turmoil, I subconsciously walk into a grocery store . And there it was , the object of my restoration, the one and the only Shorsher tel! Ah, all is well with the world again and I can now stand tall with my head held high among proud Bangali’s and proclaim myself to be one among the many who struggled and survived.
Pure delight passes through me and I turn around in wonder. And my non existent culinary sense goes into an overdrive as I find POSTO..Holud, Muri, Chire , Tejpata, Kaacha lanka, IODEX and I bless the paperwala for once cause he woke me up that day!
I buy all that my eyes see and I make a note of the location, the store , all the while muttering Thank You Paperwala, Thank You Tekshi Driver .
I come home and display my treasures on the kitchen shelf. It looks like a true Bangali Kitchen, I make myself the jhal muri restoring my frayed Bangali DNA and I get my happy ending.
That was three weeks ago. The Holud is still there, the posto still stares at me from the un-opened packet, however the Shorsher tel and the muri is about to end.
I know where to get it, after all I have DNA-Bangali and it is a homing beacon to Shorsher Tel and Muri….