Snippets
Morning Rush
The day had not started well. She missed the 6.40 bus. Ashu had thrown a tantrum and refused to take what she had prepared for his lunch. He did not want the poha, he wanted a sandwich. That was the problem with sending him to the English medium school with all the rich kids for classmates. Now the next bus would arrive 20 minutes later, which means she would be delayed reaching Sharda bhabhi’s house. She would get an earful. Not a good day for asking her for that 500 rupee advance. Maybe she should ask Neetu bhabhi in 1201. At least she would not refuse point blank. What if either would not give her the money? What would she do for Ashu’s exam fees this month? There was the bus. Hopefully she would get a place to sit. The only rest she would get for her feet for the next 6 hours.
It was the 3rd time this week. No matter how many times you told her, Geeta just came and went as she pleased. She lit the lamp and surveyed the mess her kitchen was. The dinner dishes in the sink and the ring of burnt milk around the gas stove. And there were the clothes to put out to dry and the credit card cheque to be dropped at the bank and the 9.00 am meeting to boot. What a day for Geeta to turn up late. Could she skip the cheque she wondered. But she knew it was cutting it close. That last month 500 rupee late payment fee had caused such a row with Dinesh. As if it made such a difference. But better not chance it again. There was the doorbell. Maybe she could still make the 9.00 am on time.
Creation
She isn’t a great cook, not even a very good one. But she loves the feeling of standing in her kitchen and acting like she was whipping up a feast for the gods. With the recipe book in front of her as her inspiration. The feel of the paneer under her knife… or the capsicum. The smell of roasting garlic and the sound of sizzling oil. The ladle is the magician’s wand and the wok is his hat. The suggestion of creation is irresistible. So what if the result is less than what her mother can manage with her eyes closed.
Fear
Today I met the boy I want to spend the rest of my life with. He has the most amazing smile I have ever seen. And a habit of looking at you and listening to you as if you were the only one in the whole wide world. I know I will dream of him all the nights of my life. I know he can break my heart. So I walked away. I don't think he even noticed.
Morning Rush
The day had not started well. She missed the 6.40 bus. Ashu had thrown a tantrum and refused to take what she had prepared for his lunch. He did not want the poha, he wanted a sandwich. That was the problem with sending him to the English medium school with all the rich kids for classmates. Now the next bus would arrive 20 minutes later, which means she would be delayed reaching Sharda bhabhi’s house. She would get an earful. Not a good day for asking her for that 500 rupee advance. Maybe she should ask Neetu bhabhi in 1201. At least she would not refuse point blank. What if either would not give her the money? What would she do for Ashu’s exam fees this month? There was the bus. Hopefully she would get a place to sit. The only rest she would get for her feet for the next 6 hours.
It was the 3rd time this week. No matter how many times you told her, Geeta just came and went as she pleased. She lit the lamp and surveyed the mess her kitchen was. The dinner dishes in the sink and the ring of burnt milk around the gas stove. And there were the clothes to put out to dry and the credit card cheque to be dropped at the bank and the 9.00 am meeting to boot. What a day for Geeta to turn up late. Could she skip the cheque she wondered. But she knew it was cutting it close. That last month 500 rupee late payment fee had caused such a row with Dinesh. As if it made such a difference. But better not chance it again. There was the doorbell. Maybe she could still make the 9.00 am on time.
Creation
She isn’t a great cook, not even a very good one. But she loves the feeling of standing in her kitchen and acting like she was whipping up a feast for the gods. With the recipe book in front of her as her inspiration. The feel of the paneer under her knife… or the capsicum. The smell of roasting garlic and the sound of sizzling oil. The ladle is the magician’s wand and the wok is his hat. The suggestion of creation is irresistible. So what if the result is less than what her mother can manage with her eyes closed.
Fear
Today I met the boy I want to spend the rest of my life with. He has the most amazing smile I have ever seen. And a habit of looking at you and listening to you as if you were the only one in the whole wide world. I know I will dream of him all the nights of my life. I know he can break my heart. So I walked away. I don't think he even noticed.
3 comments:
pretty neat - experiment away!
That was lovely, enjoyed that last one the most :) As for the second one...I wonder if I would ever feel so in a kitchen...but you put it so well..
Thanks UL... some really random stuff here.
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