Holding Back the Tears
This may come as no surprise to all those who know you, Mi. I totally get why you loved cooking so much. The day before yesterday, I was going through your old diary where you’ve sprinkled recipes, jokes, words of wisdom and um….lots of other things. Well, half the time the page looked blurry to me as my eyes were full and I had a tough time holding back the tears. In fact, lately, I’m quite the crybaby. But what can I do? When I experience love, my lachrymal glands go on overdrive. Not that it matters. Still.
What can I say? Every moment, whatever I do, I think of you. Especially shopping. I got some kurtas which you would simply love. Whenever I see the “S” or “XS” size and red kurtas, I think of you very much. You would have looked so fab in them.
Gosh, yesterday, I pulled out a plastic bag to carry, as I wanted to buy a couple of things on the way home. Guess which bag? Fabmall. I wonder if most people in the area even remember the store! But then, we still have some Medhini bags. How about that!. All the carefully folded bags are coming in great use now, Mi. Because we’ve all gone green. If we go shopping without a bag, they charge us three rupees for a plastic bag. Which we can easily avoid, no?
Hmm. Yesterday Vidur and I made “rotti vadakkal” with the radish-onion-stuffed parathas. We had over eight left over, and I really couldn’t see us finishing that. So I did the next best thing. Chopped ‘em up and tossed them to a semi crisp, which we thoroughly enjoyed for dinner with vadu manga. Yum. I am also making manathakkalikka vatral regularly, to eat with rice.
Vidur is quite the home-made food type. I still laugh at the memory of you teasing him, saying “packet boy”. As much as we bugged him, he’s a regular homey. Which reminds me, I must make ellu podi for him. By the way, the dosa molaga podi turns out uniformly (and gratifyingly) great every time. Gosh, last week it was due for refill – and after I roasted everything, there was a &^%$ power cut. I scolded myself, because just as I was nearing the end of the roasting, the thought that there might be a powercut flitted through my mind. Ugh. And it promptly went off. I hate it when the power goes off in the morning when we’re in a rush and need it for hot water, grinding and yes, the radio. So tough without the radio. Anyway, even as I fretted, the power came on, on time and I was able to grind it. So all’s well that ends well.
Now, do I see you looking at me wondering why I was roasting and grinding in the morning? Look away. I have no excuses. I know I should have done it the previous day, which was a Sunday. Umm.
These days, whenever I cut onion my eyes water like crazy. My immunity to the non-watering has gone. Remember how I always insisted I would cut and store it in the fridge. Now, the minute I halve it, the Ganga and Yamuna are in full flow.
I am thinking of making lemon coffee and drinking it. I vaguely remember how we used to drink black coffee with lemon just like lemon tea, right? Oh, which reminds me – there’s a little bottle of lemon tea which came free with something. That silly Lays has introduced their “baked” version and it is ultra boring. V and I prefer the regular fried. Considering that we do not eat it often, when we do want to indulge once in a while, might as well ensoy, no?
Incidentally, my photo appeared in the paper on Saturday, quoting me on school kids’ food habits. Here’s the photo:
Not surprisingly, I was the last one to know. I felt like a mini celebrity with neighbors letting me know and phone calls from V’s classmates’ parents and others we know. So funny, no? I was imagining how excited you would have felt.
I hate that you were snatched away like that, abruptly.
There was so much more left to do.