For all the 'walk down the memory lane'...

Caution : Picture heavyyyyy!!!

Its that time of the year when people are giving/buying, diaries/ journals etc.. Most of the times, i've started off with a full 'josh' in the new diary and lost interest mid-way.. then came the colourful handmade books and i've been hooked to them ever since... Since they were pretty expensive, i used to jus look at them and put 'em back in the shelf and come home.. One fine day when i was bored, i decided to make my own handmade book and from then on, i've been tryin to experiment with these kinda books... 

If you'd like to make for yourself or to gift someone else, here's a simple method :) ... 

Pull out all your artsy stuff and let your creativity flowwww :) ... 

You'll need : 

Mill board ( i dunno what its called otherwise.. its a pretty firm board )

Papers/Sheets of your choice (for the book.. and the no. of papers depend on what you are gonna use the book for.. I usually make a 100 paged one )

Cutter

Steel scale

Glue

Pencil

Single punch ( it'll be awesome if you have one of those cute li'l shaped ones ) :D 

Jute thread/Ribbons/ Coloured cotton twines 

Needle

Paper clamps

For the cover :

You can absolutely use anything! from hand made paper to plain coloured charts to recycled paper to fabric or even make a collage on a plain paper of all your fav things or pictures of you/your friends/family/pets.. absolutely anything!

I chose a white grass paper for the front cover and brown textured sheet for the back cover

For the insides of the cover, Black paper is the safest :) 

If you are feeling more creative, bring out all the paper cuttings / Photo colours / poster colours / anything!! to make a 'hatke' cover or even personalize the sheets inside.. :) 

 Decide the size of the book you wanna make..
I wanted half of A4 and thatsy had to cut the A4 sheets into half..
Align the paper and slightly centre fold the paper and keeping the steel scale as guide, cut the sheet ( I don't like folding the paper into half and sliding the blade through that.. it kinda gives a very unfinished look )
This will be your reference sheet.

 With the help of the reference sheet, cut rest of the sheets ( you can probably cut 6 or 7 sheets at a time.. depending on the thickness of your sheet )

 You can also choose different coloured sheets for the book.. I'm way to lazy these days to write a lot, so i decided to put in more sheets to stick pictures and caption them..
Make sure all the sheets are of the same size.

 Now, take one sheet out of the pile and mark 1.5 cm from the edge ( again.. Decide whether you want your book 'Landscape opening' or 'portrait opening' and depending on that, mark the line )

 Make markings of 1.5 cm or 2cm on the line... This is where the sheet is gonna be punched.. (if your are using a shape punch, depending on the shape, make the markings )

 If your sheet is thin/Flimsy, use a chart paper or an old magazine or an entire newspaper for punching the reference sheet.. Otherwise you'll get creases (see at the punch 1 )...

Now that your reference punch sheet is ready, pile up 7-8 sheets below the reference sheet and make sure all the edges are accurate and paper clamp them ( the paper clams will hold the sheets from shifting while you are punching them )

 Punch all the sheets and pile them up to check if they all are in order..

 Now, take the mill board and take a reference sheet and cut the mill board to the size of the sheet ( you could also make the mill board a li'l bigger than the sheet size , say about 0.3cm  longer on all sides than the sheet )

 You'll need 2 mill board pieces (one for the back and one for the front )

 Using the reference punched sheet, punch the mill boards

 Punch mill board

 I used brown textured sheet for the back, the printed paper as the opening page and white grass paper for the front cover.

 Cut the back cover page to the size of the mill board coming at the back.

 Glue the back cover page to the mill board ( on one side first )

 Punch holes onto the back cover page with the reference of the mill board.
Do the same thing for the other side of SAME mill board.

Instead of using black for the inside of the back cover, i used brown textured sheet for both side.
Let the back cover dry.

 Now, for the front side, cut the front cover sheet to the size of the mill board.
On the mill board, mark 2 cm from the edge where you have punched and draw another line from this 2 cm ka line at a distance of 0.2 cm.

 Punch the cover sheet with the mill board as reference. (use the paper clamps to hold the paper in place )

 Keep the cover page aside.

 Cut the 0.2 cm part of the mill board now.

 Take the cover page and pour glue onto it and stick both pieces of the mill board onto the sheet.
One from the punched edge and the other from the other corner of the cover page.
There should be a gap between both pieces of the mill board.

For the inside, i have used a dark red chart paper.
Stick it onto the mill board.

 With the help of a pencil (the unsharpened end ), run it firmly in the gap between the mill boards.
Do it both on the outside and inside.
This is done for easy opening and closing of book.

 Now, Punch the inside of the front cover.

 Now that, the back cover, sheets and front cover are ready, Decide what you wanna use to bind the book.
I like the rustic and earthy feel of the jute thread.

 If you're using a jute thread, pour a lil fevicol to the tip of the jute thread and make sure you get a stiff tip. (its easier to thread into the needle)

There are different ways to bind a book.. You can find various kinds of thread bindings on 'Goggle-ji' ( there again the punches vary according to the kind of stitch ) ..

 I like the Chine bookbinding technique as its very simple to do :).
You can try various kinds of double punch designs and experiment with the binding itself if you are making a simple cover page.

Your book is ready! :)
For simple binding, you can do various kinds of designs with paints on the cover page or you can even stick different textured sheets on the cover page.
I'm a hugggeee fan of bamboo designs and hence the bamboo painting for the orange book. :)

Have fun writing, sticking a million pictures, pinning movie tickets /memories/ leaves anything! :) :)
I would love to see what you guys came up with :D .. do lemme know! :D 

Being Women!

    After so many days of thinking about my next topic to write, I thought today, lemme atleast start writing something, and then maybe thoughts will overflow. So here I am sitting on my pc (I dont understand why do people call it PERSONAL COMPUTER, because thanks to my brother nothing in this PC is my personal....!) Hey, I am still not disappointed. I still call it my PC!!
   
    Well siting on my pc and listening to Bryan Adams sing, "Do I have to say the words..." to me feels so special indeed!! Before I started listening to Bryan Adams, I had thought of writing so many things, but now I am not just speechless but also thoughtless... His voice is so rich, so adorable, so mesmerizing, so manly. I just want to say I am in love with his voice! ;)

    And I know I am supposed to write something worthwhile here, but I cant help it! Currently my fingers are not in my control. They are in sync with my brain and they are moving on the keyboard on their own! Just like sometimes my tongue goes in sync with my thoughts and I start blabbing continuously without knowing a word and most importantly all rubbish! :P

   I guess its one of those phases when I speak all non-sense happily and get away with the only legitimate excuse that I am a girl!! A woman. And that itself shuts every mouth! ;)

   So darlings, lets enjoy and celebrate the fact that we are women! Cheers to all the women out there for being women! :D

P.S. - A Happy New Year to all !!! :D

The gift of light

 I used to believe it when mother said aunt Dorothy had got white roses for me. I used to believe when father would drive me to beach and describe the sky a painting of crimson and blue. I used to believe Trish when she told me that she bought me a green shirt. I used to believe Vikram when he announced to us that his new pet is a golden retriever. I used to believe Shanti aunty, our maid, when she promised me that I was wearing brown shoes for school. I used to believe Raman Sir when he said he gave me purple, orange and green sketches to colour during class. I also believed him when he said I used the purple sketch the most. 

I didn't have much choice back then. My world was a monotonous black and that's the only colour I knew. I had to agree with my family when they said it was dawn and when it was dusk, I couldn't tell the difference; I lived in a dark world. When the festival of lights came I only heard the noise outdoors and smelt the delicious food. It felt like life was laid out for me and I just had to follow it like clock work. Everybody around me helped me take in the surroundings, they told me of the beauty of this world and the wonderous creations of God. It pained me not be able to see who I am, to see how pretty Trish looked on her wedding day, to see how beautiful the night sky looked with a lone moon to light it up. But then I knew my world as it was told to me and I accepted it. 

Today I can see that I actually used the purple sketch the most. I hear the birds chirp as I walk past the park and I know that they are happy to see me just as I am to see them. I give aunt Dorothy white roses and she gives me a warm hug. I take dad out on a drive and thank him for all the times he drove me up to the beach and he is happy when I tell him his illustration of the setting sun was almost accurate. I see Sparky, Vikram's pet, as he steals our cricket ball and hides it under the car and wonder what he must have been like as a pup. I see mother wipe away those tears as I clutch my college degree in my hands and I see who I am. I see the miracle of life all around me and I see beauty of this world in all it's glorious ways.  

Earlier when I lived the life laid out for me, everything was portrayed so beautifully, everything so peaceful like everybody was in love and everything was perfect, but today when I can see things for myself I can't help but see more hatred than love, more horror than solace and more pain than joys. The world I knew back then is not the world I see now, what changed and why?  I can't thank God enough for bringing back light in my life and I can't express the enormous gratitude I have for the donor who chose to leave behind his legacy with me. I would never want to go back to the world of engulfing blackness but in a world filled with the green of envy and red of anger I feel I'm blind all over again!!!

I've always been in awe with colours and I can't imagine my life without them. I love to see the sun set and love to see the dance of colours at the horizon when that happens. I adore my pets and I can't stop looking at myself the days my hair blesses me with a tamed behaviour. I have found peace and wisdom by gazing up at the stars and I never could turn away from a well laid out buffet. All these are familiar to me and comforting and I can't imagine, even for a minute, what my life would be if I couldn't see these things again. Or never saw them in the first place. Disability is an encumbrance which none of us would wish on ourselves or our loved ones. I've always been fascinated by the conversations the deaf and dumb have, but blind  people affect me a lot. I've cried so many times looking at the blind try to find their way sometimes with the help of their stick sometimes with the help of us normal people. All of us feel for them I'm sure, but how many of us do anything at all about what we feel. We take some of our basic gifts for granted, a gift like sight being one of them!!! People like Helen Keller and Franklin Roosevelt I'm sure inspire a lot of us.

                                                      How many of you remember this ad?

I think she looks much better now, but those eyes still remain just as beautiful and so does the message. If you haven't already done so please do, you could help somebody see that miracles can actually come true. To know more about pledging your eyes and how to do so visit : here, here or here. I donate blood every time I go over 45 kilos, I've already pledged my eyes, so this year I wanted to do a little more. On my B'day I'll be spending the entire day with the blind and here after if possible every weekend at a school for the blind orphans. There are still among us who believe that those who don't find their roots remain demented for life,  for such people more giving than the rest of us I say!!! Vision without action is a dream. Action without vision is simply passing the time. Action with Vision is making a positive difference. Blessed are those who can give without remembering, and take without forgetting!!!

Bring in the new year in style people :D :D :D.

XOXO

P.S. Anybody willing to donate those purple eyes please contact me first :P                                                         

Act your age....!

   Hello everyone!! I welcome myself to this blog!
   Darlings, I am your newest and maybe...just maybe, the youngest of all the authors too! ;)

   Just when I 'soo-excitedly,jumping-on-the-sofa,dancing-and-going-wherever-she-went' disclosed the fact to my mom, that I too am going to be an author in the blog that I sooo love to read, she just replied calmly to me, 'beta, stop behaving like a child! Thats really good but its high time that you start acting your age now!' 

  "ACT YOUR AGE". Doesn't this sound familiar? We have heard this so many times since our childhood. I remember when I was in school and I fogot to do my homework or was found talking in the middle of the class,my teacher often poked me the question, "cant you behave your age?" and I wondered how should I be doing that. After my school teachers, my parents by themselves took this responsibility of asking this question to me. They often asked this question to me, sometimes sweetly, sometimes angrily, sometimes out of frustation and sometimes out of dissapointment. The moods kept changing but the question remained the same forever... "cant you act your age?"

    Now that I am 19 years old,I think I am in a better state of mind than I was anytime before. Now I dont make any hasty decisions,dont say the words directly out of my stomach,dont behave like a teen anymore (although I am one). I am more responsible, more intelligent, more smart than I was ever in my life before (not to forget my pimples too have started vacating my face). Now I think before I say or do anything. But has that question gone out of my life? The answer is 'NO'. It is still there,growing up with me, walking every step with me, and leaving less petty issues behind and looking forward to bigger and bigger issues to handle and grow in every possible direction that I possibly can.

    Sometimes I wonder, although I have grown up so much, how come I still didnt learn to "act my age"... and the more I think about this question, the more it haunts me! Damn,why cant I act my age?

    But then again another moment I think that if I start acting my age, where will the child in me go? How will I ever fulfill my childish dreams and petty happiness? The little things that means so much in me. The simple and unmatchable joy of getting wet in the rain, having ice-cream in winter, running to catch the train at the last minute and entering the train panting, writting the journals and projects on the 12th hour and submitting them last, late night chats, long and extra long phone conversations, unending laugh on nothing in particular, the happiness and proudness after helping any poor or disabled person, riding my bike at high speed in empty roads esp. when a handsome guy is sharing the road with me, the cool brush of breeze on the face is just so much calming and refreshing. These things definetly remind me that I should be 'acting my age', but the simple and pure happiness we get by doing these childish things is simply unmatchable.

    

    So, I decided that, let this question follow me my entire life, I am not going to kill my small but true happinesses for this idiotic question!! Let this question be by my side forever, I am still never going to "act my age"!!!!! ;)

Of Snow and Bells

The heavy Church Bell rang thrice as I stared out of my window across the snow filled, cold street. I was lucky to hear the sound floating to me from St. Margaret's Church. It made me feel alive. Blessed. May be I should take a walk. I thought. London was Cold. Cold and Wet. I didn't know what I hated more. Festivities were heavy in the air but I missed the warmth I used to feel at home. I knew I was going to be late for University again. The Gray sky warned that soon there could be a heavy snow fall. Good Riddance. I turned away from the window and pulled my muffler tight around my neck. It had been a month since I was here. And peace had evaded me since then. I felt lonely. And My Birthday was just a week away. Sigh. This was going to suck. I sighed once again and grabbed my coffee and cold toast. 

St. Margaret's, Westminster

I brushed my hair too roughly not caring how it stood up stubbornly. I had apparently straight hair. But now it was frizzy! Gah!! Bad Bad Bad. I dressed in a Black overcoat, put my gloves and shoes and lip balm and stepped out. The Old Land Lady was adjusting the pots on her window. She waved at me as I gave her a courteous smile. "Merry Christmas My Dear!" She said. I thanked and turned swiftly on my heels. The walk to the Church would usually take me some 15 minutes but I stretched it to 25 today. I walked slowly, staring at the festoons and hollies and mistletoes. In day light, they seemed somber to me, just like my mood. 

Sigh. (Image Source)

I sighed for the nth time and quickened my steps towards the Church. I reached into the lane that was parallel to the abbey. I entered, rubbing my palms together and watching my breath freeze before me. The Church was empty at this time of the day. I gave a relieved and content sigh. The Pastor looked at me and called me forward. He was intrigued by the Indian who never failed to visit the Church, even if there was a blizzard. I lit a candle at the altar closed my eyes and thanked whoever was listening to me. I got up slowly, peace descending on me like a warm shroud. I turned to take my usual seat at the end of the gallery when I noticed her again. She was a fellow woman who too never missed coming to Church. Her eyes caught mine and she surprisingly gave me a warm smile, which sent warm tingles in me. She was a familiar. But I couldn't recall. I gave her a smile of my own and withdrew my thoughts to myself. I stared at the high ceiling, the wide arcs and the brilliance of the people who created it. My thoughts didn't go to what I missed or my miseries but suddenly loneliness grabbed me as I cried a solitary tear. Here, no one saw me. 

I controlled my ragged breath as I felt a movement next to me. She was sitting next to me. I gave her a quizzical, lopsided smile. 

"I'm sorry I must be intruding. But I felt a company would make you feel better." She smiled at me again. I nodded in approval for words were failing me.

"I see you here everyday but you don't seem Christian. I mean no offence when I say that. Are you a believer?" I could feel her hesitation as she tried to make conversation. Not trying to be the mean bitch I felt like, I answered as politely I could, for Britishers were known for upper stiff lip. I wouldn't take that risk.

She intrigued me. (Image Source)

''I am from India. I come here...because it soothes me. The calmness here. No, I'm not Christian and no offence taken." I smiled at her feeling better. She nodded but I saw some hesitation. I didn't know what to ask or how to. So, I blurted the first thing without thinking.

"Would you mind some coffee? Ofcourse unless you have family engagements." I knew I had committed a faux pas. It was Christmas for crying out loud! And just because I was alone, didn't mean I would invite strangers. To my relief she said, "As I said, a company is never bad. I would love coffee." This time she grinned and I noticed a sadness in her eyes but didn't dwell on it too much.We got up together. 

I chose a table near the windows of the cafe so that some light could come in. All the while we spoke of lighter things like weather, festivities, coffee, what we liked and disliked. She was full of light. And Happiness. And warmth. And being with her made me feel light. Like a sun beam was focused at my heart. I was getting cheery by the moment, my University Lecture long forgotten. We were laughing and enjoying ourselves. Suddenly I asked her~

"I come to seek peace but why do you visit Church every day without fail?" Again that same sadness I had noticed before flickered on her face. I regretted my question instantly. I tried to cover up "Hey, it's all right. I didn't mean to be intruding!" I squeezed her hand sympathetically. 

Her eyes were sad... (Image Source)

"I visit Church everyday, for I love to believe that my loved ones are happy. Few moments of Life, I live with them in there." She said with a sad smile. "My family died in an accident last month. I am alone. And Christmas doesn't seem the same anymore. I used to watch you and wonder what struck you. Your determination, even though you were new here, gave me strength." 

I felt ashamed of myself. This woman was made of iron. And she thought I was strong? I gave her a tight smile as she looked away, her eyes filling up. I paid, while she resisted. We decided to part ways. She hugged me and gave me a tiny golden bell from her wallet. "You gave me something to look forward to. A friend. This bell will remind you of me...when you go back to India." She said. That tiny bell and her words were a gift I didn't rightfully deserve. Before she could disappear, I ran after her. She stopped as I called out to her.

The tiny golden bell... (Image Source)

"Will you spend the Christmas with me?" I asked, aware how lonely I was sounding, still.

"I would love to..." She smiled and walked away.

Live My Life

 My Dear, 

I am not doing well. My body is giving up on me and so is my will to live. I now just want my days to end and I can feel that my moments are numbered now. You are all I have and you are the only person I can rightfully call mine.

You were born premature, 2 months. Your father and I spent days near your incubator praying for our bundle of joy to be able to breathe on his own. God was good to us, but he was jealous. He took away your Dad from us, when you were just 2. Accident on the highway they said. But son, I shut down my sadness deep in my heart and away from you because you were all I had. My life revolved around you.

As a child you used to slip and fall a lot and I would always run to pick you up before the tear reached your pink cheeks. Your tears had the power to kill me and your smile was my rescue. Do you remember your food habits as a teen? You rarely liked the homely food I cooked and you would get angry on me for not being able to cook like your friend’s mother did. I forced myself to learn to cook a few dishes which suited your taste, just to make you happy and you were proud of me then. Do you remember being afraid of the dark? Even now you cannot sleep without the dim lights being on. I am not complaining my love but I spoilt you. I took care of all your demands because it was for you that I lived. I was happy when you brought home a beautiful girl saying that you have chosen her to be your wife. My son is now a man.

But why do you shout at me now? My ears have given up and I cannot hear you no matter how much I try. I gave you our house as your marriage gift because I had nothing else left to gift you. I live with you because it is with you that I belong and because I have nowhere else to go. I even give you my monthly pension because you take care of me. My love, why don’t you run to pick me up whenever I slip and fall? Why do I disgust you? Why do you let me sleep starving because my teeth couldn’t chew on the solid food my daughter in law made? Why is there no light in my room since 2 months? Why did you not provide a bulb in my bathroom even after we found a snake in there, and I fainted after hitting my head hard on the granite floor? Why do you hate me so much? I don’t have clean clothes to wear because at the age of 86, I cannot sit down to rub away the dirt and wash it. Why don’t you keep me clean? I am not complaining, I am just confused since the answers escape me. Why don’t you call me ‘Mom’ now? Why do you swear at me?

Son, thankyou for letting me stay with you. I am happy living where I can see you growing old and watch you pampering your child, my grandson. Thankyou for not sending me away to an old age home because I don’t want my last days to be spent alone, away from the only one I can call ‘mine’. But son never forget one thing. I am not cursing you when I say this but ‘where I am now, you will be someday’.

Your,

Mother.

Weddings!

Hello all :)

Hope that all of you would have had a very very merry Christmas. Anyways belated wishes for that and advance wishes for the incoming New Year. I am not gonna put up a Goodbye 2011 and Welcome 2012 post because it seems so typical. Nah! I am not in a mood for being typical right now.

So, I am going out of the way and am gonna write about Weddings *Drumroll*

Well, now I know that the male readers who were reading this post scattered off to attend to their more important work. Anyway, let me return to the topic in the hope that I still have my female readers glued. As any other girl, I have had big dreams about my wedding and all that mush. The thing is that I am in love with the western wedding where they have more of flowers, rings, I do’s and most importantly the wedding gown. But I know my wedding is gonna be of relatives discussing gold and status, smoke coming from homam and sarees whose weight will definitely surpass mine and jewelry that is gonna choke me to death. Yup, that is inevitable. If I open my mouth about it, all the elderly pearls will go like, “Oh my god, you people are talking so much. You are all spoilt. In those days, we were not even allowed to see the groom before the wedding. We did what we were told to” and my inner monologue will go like, “Yeah! That’s you and not me.”

And talking of which, I cannot imagine how our grandmothers and mothers managed to accept what they were given on a platter and live it, calling it life. I cannot, even in my wildest imaginations, imagine myself taking a tray with coffee cups and handing one to each of those people who scrutinize me like I am a product. Sheesh! Thinking of it gives me shivers down my spine. And then imagine overhearing the parents bargaining the price and other amenities that the guy’s side is to be bestowed with. I seriously doubt if that should be called a wedding.

Now back to the point, those weddings which have soft music playing when the bride enters with her dad and the groom beaming at his bride walking down the aisle towards him for a happily-ever-after seems so much more cool and organized than the ones where ‘n’ aunties are running from pillar to post, not knowing for what they are running, panting heavily due to the luggage heavy sarees and jewelry they are carrying with themselves. 

Source

I can give you a real life experience for the kinds of confusion that will arise in our weddings. In my bro’s marriage, I was dutifully standing behind the stage, holding a lamp (Don’t even start asking the reason. Nobody knows why the nathanar (sister-in-law) should do that. They just say, “You have to do it”) All the aunties around were involved in some sort of agitated discussion. On overhearing, the discussion was about whether the groom should tie the knot, sitting on a rice bag or on a 3-legged stool or on a 4-legged stool. I was like “What the heck!” Does it really matter? If yes, why?

I am talking about South Indian Tamil weddings as I don’t have any idea about North Indian ones except the fact that they are a lot more tedious. My point is whichever wedding it is, they seem to be smooth from the outside, but they are nothing but chaos for the families involved until the wedding is over without any major mishap. Why can’t we just organize a simple wedding without calling all the relatives of relatives of relatives? Why can’t we just ask the bride and groom’s consent and get done with it? Why does it always have to be the stormy, chaotic drama? Why should the opinion of the bride's aunt's grandmother's daughter's opinion on the bridal saree be more important than the convenience of the bride in wearing it? Why should the jewels to be worn matter more than the comfort of the bride on her big day? Why should the gold piles always matter more than the couple's smiles?

Source

I do not have answers for these questions? Do you?

Until later :)

Chocolate mud cake..

          So its celebration time!! Why not bake your own chocolate cake this New Years?? I recently tried this new recipe and it turned out yummmmy!! What's more? Its easy to cook!

What you will need:
250 g butter
250 g chocolate ( I used about 100 g dark chocolate + about 150 g milk chocolate)
water- 3/4 cup

All purpose flour ( maida)- 2 cups + 2 tablespoon
Cocoa powder - 1/4 th cup + 2 teaspoon
Baking powder- 1/2 teaspoon
coffee powder- 1 teaspoon
castor sugar (fine sugar)- 2 and 1/2 cup

oil- 2 tablespoon
vanilla essence- 1 teaspoon
Buttermilk- 1/2 cup
4 eggs

For the ganache:
150 g dark chocolate
150 g milk chocolate
1/3 rd cup thickened cream ( I used fresh cream)

How to make it:
First take the butter, water and chocolate in a bowl and melt it.  If using a microwave, melt it on defrost mode. IF using gas, melt it by placing the bowl in boiling water. Do not melt the mixture directly on heat.
Once the mixture is melted, keep it aside and allow it to come to room temperature.

Sift the maida, coco, baking powder and coffee and mix it uniformly. Sift this mixture again. Add castor sugar to this mixture and mix uniformly.

Place the eggs, vanilla essence, buttermilk and oil in a bowl and whisk it.

Now, mix the egg mixture and the flour mixture slowly with constant stirring. If the mixture is too stiff, add little milk.

Take the chocolate mixture and add it to the egg+flour mixture slowly and keep stirring.

Pour this mixture into a greased pan.
Bake for about an hour.
To check if the cake is ready, insert a knife and draw it back. If the knife comes out clean with moist crumbs  (no lumps!!! or gooey batter) then the cake is ready.

Take out the cake and let it cool to room temperature.

The top of the cake will have a crust formed which can be cut. Place the cake upside down. The bottom is even for icing.

Spread the ganache with a flat knife!

How to make the ganache:
Melt the chocolate and cream on very low heat (again no direct heating) and when the mixture is just melted stop heating. Let it cool a bit and then spread over the cake..

Its easy!! Once you start with it, you would love it.. Patience and love is all you require :)