Popular Posts

Monday 20 February 2012

The Burnt food...


One of my friends had once posted that her mother taunted her saying, “You have the capacity to even burn tea”, and I went LOL over this. This statement stands true of most girls and boys, too, of our times. I’ve taken up this topic today because I underwent some self disparagement today.

After 4 hours of continuous lectures by three different professors (starting from 8 to 12!), I finally found the time to grab a bite, after which, I went to Prithvi Theatre to purchase tickets for ‘By George’, a play written based on George Bernard Shaw’s three stories and directed by Naseeruddin Shah. I took a bus which dropped me at a location which was far away from my destination, but given the pleasant that there was, I chose to walk with my earphones plugged into my ears. After purchasing tickets for myself and three other classmates, I walked again before I sat in a rickshaw. As I sat in the rick, I realized that I had walked a lot more than I’d intended to. Nevertheless, as soon as I reached home at 2, I found dad still praying which automatically led me to believe that he must have taken up some other clean-up work in house today. After I got fresh, I immediately asked him about what did we have for lunch?, to which he asked me if I had something in college. A vada pav was all I had, I answered. He looked baffled at this; I immediately saw potatoes that mom had boiled early in the morning and this totally suggested that I was to cook now. I told him, give me sometime papa. I’ll make some chapattis (parathas, rather) and aalu. I discovered that he was hungrier than me and so I quickly somehow cooked the potatoes and started making parathas. I wouldn’t say they were all that bad, but they sure did not look appetizing enough. The potatoes looked light yellow, the methi in it was, as dad said, half cooked and I couldn’t make parathas at the pace with which he wanted. I knew that there was something that wasn’t too right about all that was on his platter, but was too scared to ask him. I never expected my day to be like this. But it had to be – on a day when you think of having hokey pokey ice-cream or going for a movie and nothing turns in your favor, this is what happens. Or how it happens. After he shoved the food down his throat (yes, that’s what it seemed like L ), I sat down to eat looking carefully at the potatoes while eating the same myself. I couldn’t figure out what was bitterer – that one burnt paratha or the methi? I’m not that bad a cook; I can be a decent cook at times – I’ve cooked pretty decent gravies, I’ve cooked mean dals at time and of late,  even the chapattis I’ve made have been appreciated by dad. But today was just not my day. On second thoughts, I felt that had this been a gravy-waala vegetable, I would have been able to cover it up; most gravies do. But this was dry and thus each element was noticeable. This further made me realize that this stands true for different walks of life as well – if you are a dry person, people expect you to be perfect and notice even the slightest faults of yours. A juicy person can cover up his/her fault. Similarly, you ignore the grammar and spelling mistakes if a piece of news is gossipy and logic doesn’t really matter, but a serious issue is looked up and down, left right and centre for faults and deriving other conclusions out of context.

It’s good to be juicy, spicy and zestful. Always!