A typical Indian-Maharashtrian Sunday morning starts. The setting is a small town named Nashik located east, west, North, South of much bigger towns. The father is home for the day. The 16 year old son now awakes due to a combined effort of his mother switching off the ceiling fan and his father drawing the drapes ensuring the sunrays settle on his eyes. The time is nine thirty in the morning. The son has slept late the earlier night.
Slowly he clambers into the living room. The father has taken control of the T.V remote and the newspaper. Yet, he remembers to keep the colored sections neatly folded for his son. The mother has already bathed and pleased the Gods. She sees him. He notices tea is already made. He grabs a cup and the newspaper.
He further awakes as tea enters his system. At this time, the mother accosts him with a shopping bag dedicated to bringing meat. The right hand carries sixty Indian rupees in paper currency.
Mother: Dunna, Ja lavkar aani mutton gheun ye. Mutton sheezayla vel lagto…ja..aanghol aalyavar kar.
(Dunna, Please go bring some meat (mutton) quick. You do realize it takes three hours to cook. You can bathe later)
Son: AAAI!!! Sakali Sakali Nako kaam saangu ga. Aajun me uthlo pan nahi…
(Mom!! Please don’t give me work as soon I get up. I still am not awake)
Mother: Theek Aahe. Batatyachi bhaaji karte….
(Fine. I shall make some potatoes then)
This ploy works every time. He grumbles but not having mutton for lunch is just not acceptable. He quickly grabs the bag and the money. He looks to his father.
Son: Baba, Me gaadi neto.
(I am taking the car Dad)
Father: Neet Chalav. ( grumpingly)
(Drive Carefully)
Son exits and enters twenty minutes later. Mother completes the exchange and scurries off into the kitchen. Despite the early hours, his trip outside in the sun puts him off. He decides to have a bath when his mother re enters the stage with a request.
Mother: Kaanda?
(Mother: Onions?)
Son and Father split the work load. Father allows son to have his favourite knife. Onions are chopped and some tears are shed. While in the process of chopping, Mother slides by and adds two tomatoes and green chillies to the work load. Father and Son engraved in mindless TV do not notice and continue chopping and slicing.
Mother returns 15 minutes later to pick up the finished product. Dad returns to news paper and sitting on the ground. Son finally heads to the bathroom after grabbing the unread news papers.
He returns feeling finally awake. The hair is combed and body spray is used in good measure. Father criticizes on his need of using the body spray even though “no going outside” is involved. The son simply offers contempt.
The sizzling onions in ginger garlic and all things right now generate a pre cursor aroma of up coming attractions. The living room windows are opened. The son enters the kitchen and hovers his nose over the cooker. The lamb which is amply spiced is dropped in to the cooker. Mother measures water in a tea cup and pours it in after which she covers the cooker with its appropriate lid.
Mother: Atta thamb, Vel lagel.
(Mother: Now wait, it shall take time)
Enough time later, after the pressure cooker has whistled and announced itself to the neighbors, the waffling steam once again draws the son from his room where he is reading “Asterix and Obelix”. Now he notices, the mother is busy rolling out “Chapattis”(Bread) and roasting them on an open flame.
His eyes however remain on the vessel that is emitting the aroma of heavens. His mother stands head fast and waits for all the steam to escape. Finally the lid is off and the mother sets the cooker for one more open air boil. The son winces.
Some minutes pass before the father relinquishes TV remote control and slides into a chair. Plates are taken care of by the son. Seeing which Father assumes responsibility for the water and glasses. The mother meanwhile places the vessel at the center of the table. Soon the table is set with all the essentials. The son switches off the TV. The ceiling fans in the living room come on to combat the Nashik Afternoons.
His first serving only contains two lamb chunks. So he gropes for some more. The father does the same. The bread is dipped in the watery gravy that surrounds the lamb and consumed in a ravishing manner. All conversation is stopped as the Father and Son dive into their Sunday lunch.
Mother: Avadla?
(Mother: Did you like it?)
After receiving two very affirmative nods, the mother resumes eating her potatoes.
U seem to be missing home cooked food !!!!
Priya: That is always true. But this post was aimed differently. Perhaps subtlety is not my thing 😉
Turn it into a Gujarati household, where Sunday lunch invariably consists of shrikhand/aamras and puri, with loads of dhoklas (o!yeah! baby!!), three daughters and an uproar over monopolising the bathroom, and sunday morning TV- Mahabharat.
And yeah, mum usually eats last, and usually eats the previous night’s leftovers.
I miss home!! D!!! How could you do this to me??!!
Ditto, what’s up with Indian moms and left overs?
And,the queston should be, How did we do this to ourselves?
very nice. wish it could happen all over right? we have moved on and all that remains is memories.
BINGO! U Got everything spot on!
thanks…for sometime i just went home….relived what was daily life,you are right, why did we do that to us?
Zambezi: Thanks! Although I still think I can re create some of this the next time I go back home. I may not be 16 but my mom will never stop making food for us!
Mahesh: Thanks! I remember our times at your place with awsome food and f1 racing.
Divi: I think I know the answer but its best left unsaid.
‘Delectable’! Great read Dush!
could visualise it all…loved it!
Just woke up right now after a dream that I am back in Nasik (and can’t figure exactly how to express my happiness…I was jumping from one room to another) I couldn’t have been sadder when I woke up to see, it was only a dream :(( And now this post! :(((
Alexandra: Thank you! I am glad you liked it. Besides you definitely can picture it better, being from the same heavenly town 😉
Aradhita: I am sorry if I broke the dream. But isnt sooner the better? Besides, is Nashik on the cards any time soon? You can carry on your jumping then.
Dunna,
You forgot Masala Omlette, the speciality of your Father. Congrats for a very readable Blog, which touched our hearts. Ulhasmanjiri (Baba & Aaee)
came after a long time.
miss those sunday afternoons now.
brilliant post wadya! keep it up!!
Zambezi: Um…NO!!!!!!! We have not moved on. Unless you call becoming my mother moving on…
D: Yes, the million dollar question. How the f did we do this to ourselves!!!
Aaai and Baba: Sorry Baba, Pan your omlettes will never be forgotten. and this post was not really about the food 😉
Aby: Thanks a lot dost. A Nashikite to a Nashikite…
Shreya: heheh, I agree.
I am glad that a part of afternoon today was spent here, and the remaining part will be spent thinking of the similarities of the Sunday afternoon I have left behind…
Dush, you made it O’Henry with the last statement, that was my fav line….
And we were not talking abt food, surely ;)…
Btw where’s my mail?? [she is forcing u to write, w/o feeling bad abt it!!]
Write sooooon… 🙂
Upasna: Thanks! Ironical you say that because I was just on a lookout for O Henry works the last time I was at the library…May be next time I will find him and see what the fuss is all about!
Hey, have you noticed how your “from none of the above” linklist has become the longest?
Really, D, what have we done!!
Its happened again…i’ve hrd so much abt that meat ur mum used to make..only hrd. Next Bangalore trip…I have to get a hold of this.
Amazing how she never turned into a non-vegetarian herself.
This one’s def. for Manjari Aunty.
– PN
Hey PN
You should do it. My mom has been known to ask “What will you eat?” before she asks how you have been!!
My mom takes the smallest thaali (which was used to cover some dish), and yesterdays chapattis too. Gosh, this is a thankless job yaar!
Well written!
Hey DQ! So you are still alive!
And you are right, its one of the most thankless job ever!
really good post..and well written. enjoyed it thoroughly.
Thanks Sameer, I am glad you liked it!
The bit about turning off the ceiling fan and opening the curtains is just priceless 🙂 I do remember waking up early during the Ramayan-Mahabharat days though. My brother and I would put on warrior costumes, ready to re-enact the drama as it unfolded in front of us. Anyway, lovely post! Brought back a lot of fond memories.
Wandered here from Someplace Else. I think I might know you. COEP ?
Shruti: we actually met last year at Nikhil's wedding. But we first met in COEP when I think you were slightly interested in the english debating club 🙂
Ah! So the mystery is solved. You are Dushyant. I had made a guess based on the high correlation between this blog and your facebook account. Turns out I just had to scroll all the way down to the copyright section of this page.
Great blog! Read quite a few of your older entries. Won't flood you with comments, but must say, David and Jen are intriguing 🙂
Thanks Shruti! I hope you keep visiting 🙂