Yesterday, the sugar dubba was empty. I felt lazy to open a new pack and ptcha-ed, when I remembered I had put the left over sugar from the last pack in a dubba and joyfully used that. imagine being lazy about something so simple and yet enjoying making elaborate dishes. I guess we all have our little thingamajigs. I remember those college days when we were just stepping out for school or college and p’ma would want us to alasify the surunai (dirty mopping cloth) or polish the silver. Ugh.
Which also sadly reminds me of our lunch dubbas whenever we stayed over. Every time I make dosa, I can’t help thinking about how you would get torn dosas sprinkled lightly with milagai podi. How embarassing it used to be to open our dubbas among our colleagues!
Do you remember how we used to swap stuff at the bus stand? When your bus passed via A-karai I would give you my dubba with roti-subzi and take yours with the boring blah blah. Simply because for me it was a joke when I opened the dubba and my classmates asked = aunt’s house? I would feel bad then, but now, thinking back, I don’t. Seems so amusing.
I also remember how, when you had to stay over there, I would take your bundles of answer-sheets and correct them for you and return them to you the next day–because when you stayed there you never had time from the chores they overloaded you with. You’d go to bed so tired and have to leave for school again the next morning at 6.15 – after a breakfast of two tulsi leaves. Gosh, just writing this is raising my BP, even though I told you I find many things amusing now.
How can we have such lousy memories across a span of almost a decade and still lead normal lives? We deserved an award, no? Some days, just like that, I think of how we were put down constantly with disparaging comments about how inept we were–after being sent twice to the bank during closing hours and coming back with the job not done. Whose fault was that? And that killing heat. Ugh.
Sorry – one dosa triggered all this. No matter what, it is so hard to get over some things even if we come to terms with them.
Let us speak of pleasanter times. How you and I vied with each other to use the brand new nonstick tava (griddle) and laughed our heads off over it. Who else in the world competed to take on work? I guess that was the magic of our relationship, Mi!
These days, I often regale Vidur with stories of the past. He does not remember many events from the time he had with you, but certainly feels a warm loving glow when he thinks of you. I also know from experience that it is parents who keep memories alive for their children – a wonderful example being Shnu.
Oh, by the way, talking of Shnu, his son is so cute, bless him. The other day he posted a photo of Jags’ Enfield on Instagram and that brought back such wonderful memories. Remember that time we were all planning to take the neighborhood kids for a movie and had reserved tickets? We were worried that Sulochana’s kids wouldn’t make it in time. Jags assured us he would keep an eye out for them and urged us on to the theater. And true to his word, there he was, in the nick of time, dropping those kids off on his Enfield. Such good times! I am smiling to think of how he would coolly walk off with my coffee!
Sigh. Such lovely memories.
How time flies.
