When I sit back and reflect, I can’t help smiling at the crazy things that gnaw at our minds, Mi. For example, remember that time when I wondered if the aluminum idli plates would look odd if I took them along with me after I […]
So last night, very cleverly I stacked the pressure cooker, feeling very proud of myself for deciding on dinner in my head while walking, Mi!
Fifteen minutes later not a peep from the cooker! Also, a strange smell. Of course we assumed it was not our kitchen. Then anyway, seconds later I thought I’d check and imagine my surprise to see fumes coming from around the handle of the cooker! Gosh. And when I touched the weight, no hissing! I quickly turned off the stove. And waited.
Then of course we had a small conference in the kitchen, contemplating over the next step. I absolutely forbade everyone to touch the cooker. Simply because I recalled how, years ago, we had attempted to open the cooker and the next thing we knew was….
rice rice everywhere and all the walls did stink!
rice rice everywhere and nary a thought to think!
Yeah okay … and I remembered how chunks had stuck to the ceiling and the walls and practically every possible surface and utensil. And there 9-year-old Vidur was, impatiently waiting to leave for school, pacing the living room. And you, you were so worked up about it until I thrust a cup of coffee in your hand and ordered you to sit in your chair until I came back from dropping off Vidur, so we could tackle the mess together. We made such lame jokes over that!
Gosh. As an aside, a few years ago, someone visited and wanted to know what happened to the kitchen ceiling when she saw the wipe marks.
So anyway–we decided to wait ten minutes. Then I opened the cooker. The water in it had evaporated and hence the fumes. Turned out the gasket was loose. So no pressure. So water evaporated.
What about dinner? I had kept kabuli chana, rice and aalu. All had perfectly cooked. Go figure!
Anyway, we enjoyed our dinner.
Yesterday I made chhole puri.
Today I made dum aloo.
So …. all is well that ends well, it seems.
Funny no? I didn’t even stress over it. My only worry was opening the cooker too soon because–ugh–cleaning up would be horrendous.
Okay, I am going for a walk.
By the way, remember those days when you would say you felt “fumes” Mi? I feel like that now sometimes. A weird smell stuck to my nose. Triggers with certain things. Unrelated things like (gasp!) coffee–which should actually be holding me in its trance with […]
So the cold that knocked on the fortress door–fortress being me–decided to stay. The usual nonsense followed: rapidly worsening throat, cold, blocked nose, runny nose, constant headache, restlessness. You of all people know me when I am sick, Mi. I know what a pain I used to be. Just as well I didn’t fall sick often. This time I suspect it was the frozen kulfi I ate last week. Even by my standards it was icy frozen. Something had to give. And then the weird rains. All in all, they conspired to slow me down.
Point is, I want to say I understand. Those days when you were not well, you would be like a busy beaver between fevers and go lay down when exhaustion struck. I would laugh at you and scold you, saying that you should just rest, get better and get back to the routine.
You know what? I do exactly what you did. When I feel the restless energy, I go crazy trying to finish housework, much to the annoyance of those present. And then, I just flop down on the sofa and sleep it off. So predictable, no?
True what you said that when you are no longer around, I will appreciate and realize a lot of things–things you said and did. But Mi, I appreciated you even when you were around. Very much. I guess that’s why the pain of loss is so intense. Because I’ll never get over how unexpectedly–and unfairly according to me–you passed away.
I feel cheated out of your old age, you know. I imagined us sitting in our balcony, aging gracefully together, enjoying our early morning coffee, looking fondly at our plants while whispering gossip. Why whisper? Because while the fluttering clothes would gently fan the fires, fueling us on, the birds and the breeze would hear and carry it onward, wouldn’t they? Then we would plan the day, argue over the menu, fantasize over some crazy project we were up to, be hugged by Vidur–or probably miss him like crazy when he’s away, enjoy movies together with Sury…reminisce about the past, delight in the present and future….and so on.
Perhaps we would shop online together and wait like children to receive and open our parcels…and maybe even take a selfie or two?
Feel guilty over ordering food occasionally…
I feel denied all that and more.
If only. Sigh. Sure, life goes on and we plod on the best way we can…but it is okay to wish, right? To whom can I whine, if not to you?
Sipping my lonely cup of coffee….