Friday, August 26, 2016

A Roti

The sun broke the blackness triumphantly just as it promises each day; by spreading its bright tendrils to every corner of the globe and warming the planet including the city Delhi, India while chasing away the darkness. 

One such household was awaiting the return of the brightest star as the clock struck 5 am. A tall frame lady with a round figure dragged herself out of the bed while embracing herself tight to keep her warm as she walked in the cold corridor towards the kitchen. Her eyes were dull, body lethargic as she yawned wide to get more oxygen into her body so that she could go on with the new day but same old routine with a bunch of new instructions that were on the side of her mind marked with a red flag.

Once she entered the kitchen, her hands started to move diligently as she multi-tasked on preparing the morning and afternoon menu.
Kitchen chores began as the utensils clinked. Mortar and Pestle crushed the ginger for the morning tea. Cutting board pulled out for chopping the vegetables as the cumin seeds hissed in the hot oil in a pan while she methodically placed the produce in it followed by essential herbs and spices.  The bangles on her wrist also jingled along as she stirred with one hand while rolling the dough with another.

Just then she heard a loud curse from the adjacent room. That made her retract for a bit. Paused and continued with the drill but, this time was mindful of her actions and kept the volume low.

Within a few minutes, a command made her quick in her steps, and she hurriedly moved in that direction with a cup and a saucer.
Thereafter, the radio was ON with bhajans playing in the background as she hummed along and prepared a meal while sipping her tea along with it. Her hands got busy again by rolling out the dough into a neat circular form via a rolling pin on a flat surface and placing it on the hot pan.

The husband beckoned for his cup of tea, and she was quick to serve him inside along with an extra cup for his mom as he accompanied her while Sarita went in for a quick shower.

As the clock was ticking, Sarita's footsteps got quicker as she finished packing lunch for herself, her better half and placing it neatly in a casserole for her mother-in-law whom she lovingly called Mummy jee.

Once ready, she put the tiffin on the counter while shouting out in a particular direction, "Do not forget your tiffin" and just when she was about to leave with her's a distinct voice made her falter.

"How many roti's did you pack for him?"
That made her frown, ponder and after a brief pause she turned towards that voice and responded with respect, "Mummy jee, I put four this time."

Before the mother-in-law could say anything, another boisterous voice irritated her, "What! Do you think I am an elephant to be eating so many during the day?" the husband came out while combing his hair and expecting a response from his wife.

Sarita fumed and rolled her eyes as she viewed her watch, "Darn it! I will miss my bus today thanks to the mother and son." she muttered.

Turned towards him with her arms on her hips and said in a low voice, "Ask your mom about the logic of not serving odd but only an even number of rotis."

"Huh!" he said in a confused tone.

"Ma, what is this? You know I eat only three rotis during the day. Why did you ask her to pack four for me?" he posed in a baby voice, which made Sarita chortle as she placed her tiffin in her bag and waited impatiently to hear her side of the story.

"Listen, beta numbers such as one, three, five are never favorable."

She wanted to explain further but got interrupted by a fuming Sarita, "But, Mummy jee I also take an odd number roti, and you did not care to justify for me?"

Mummy jee blushed but immediately made it clear, "These figures not good for a man's career. You don't earn as much as him so do not worry." she continued with innocence.

That boiled Sarita further as she stormed out of the house wearing her chappals and with her bag on her shoulder.

"Oh God! Ma now look what you have done," said the tensed husband, "I will have to send her hundreds of texts to bring back her good mood." 

Mummy jee realized the impact, and clarified to her son by going on, "Odd numbers always lead to adversity. They tend to upset the digestion if consumed, and could also lead to weight gain."

The son at that moment was not interested in the odd even saga, and continued to get ready for work but mentally upset over his wife's reaction, and was fishing out ideas to please her.

Mummy jee went back to her knitting without giving a darn of what just happened but internally satisfied that her family had embraced the odd-even fundamental and shall continue to walk on it for a brighter future.


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‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’
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