Namak, Swad Anusaar!

25th March, 2020. Wednesday. The fateful morning. When nobody rang our melodious doorbell... absolutely nobody! We slept in till late. Undisturbed. Only to get up at noon. Coz paapi paet ka sawaal tha.

 

And then the truth dawned over me. I was the designated cook of the house. I wondered what my cook was doing at her home. Happily enjoying her meals? Was she even thinking about my struggle? Well, I had two small pairs of eyes looking up to me with admiration while the bigger pair of eyes with anticipation. Ohkay! The first meal was easy. Tea and Bournvita and bread-butter. With the fancy garnishing of eyes and nose and smile made with jam. All were happy. For the next two hours. Till I sensed that it was time for the next meal. Already?!

 

Ohkay!! I had not cooked in ages. But the patriarchal norms dictate that a woman has to be Sarvagun-Sampann.... simple!! Duh!! Well, not that I had not cooked ever. But an over-pampering, low-maintenance husband had made sure that I enter the kitchen only in life-and-death kinda situation. I got up with a heavy heart thinking as to why my husband had never encouraged me to cook...? Was it to avoid a life-and-death kinda situation, after eating my food??? To my surprise, he didn’t stop me this time! In fact, I noticed a faint smile of relief on his face! I dragged myself and reached the alien land of pots and pans.

 

I thought of all the times when my Mom would tell me to learn cooking because I would have to go to a stranger’s house, after marriage, and cook and cook and cook. That did not help. I thought  of my Mother-in-law, who would always say… ‘What you know is enough, do not worry!’ That did not help either! Ok! The reality sank in. I was in-charge of this ship.

 

I have an OCD for the way I cut my veggies. It can get irritating for others, at times, but I just love it that way. So out came the chopping board and the raw capsicum and potato. My son sensed my pain and offered to wash them, but OCD. My hubby offered to chop them up, but OCD. My daughter offered to eat whatever I cook… well, that was a relief!

 

Well, I must admit that I am a pro at a few things in the kitchen: Perfect chapatis, tea and… adding Namak, Swad Anusaar! Well, I count that as a skill! So, the second meal of the day went in praising my not-so-rusted craftsmanship. Come dinner time and all three sympathised with the tired me and we decided to manage with dal and rice. After all, roasting a perfect papad also requires a certain special kind of art!

 

To cut the long, tedious, monotonous, exhausting and over-emotional story short….my family enjoyed anything and everything that I served, for the next few months. Always with a smile, never a frown. My Facebook feed was full of Zayke ka Tadka and Tarla Dalal and Cooking Shooking and PapaMummy Kitchen and so many more! My saviours! My siblings were always on the stand-by for quick queries. My mom would keep sending me YouTube videos of world-famous recipes. Well, I surely made them all proud. We also ordered a fancy new knife set for me. I made Garam Masala from scratch. Now, that is counted as an achievement… so what if the WhatsApp was playing the recipe video, right next to the gas-stove?!

 

This was in addition to the regular cleaning, laundry, dishes and being locked up 24/7 with the same people. We had a very sophisticated Excel Sheet stuck on the fridge door, dividing the mundane chores. We did manage 50% of the bit, to be honest! All drowning in their own pain. Sulking at the loss of their Summer plans. Having done with all the indoor games and movie marathons and failed hobby attempts, survival was what we had achieved. And we take pride in it, till date. Sailing along with all the Bottling Ups and Scream Downs, we did stay afloat!

 

And then, after a few painful (with the cuts and burns and tennis elbow) months, we decided to open our doors for the household help again. Wait, not yet! I had to clean the kitchen and the fridge and the cabinets!! I did not want to set a bad example for them now, did I? Fine!! I did not want them to judge me… that’s the truth! Finally, the much-awaited moment arrived. It was a scene straight out of a Karan Johar movie. It would be gloriously named... 

‘K K K Kahaan Reh Gaye The Itne Mahine?’

Yes, I could almost sense the breeze taking away the dusting cloth from my hand. And the full band was playing the bhangra music, somewhere in the background. Imaginary dancers were matching their quirky moves. I welcomed my lifelines back from my dreams and into my home and my heart and my life. They had been calling me to call them back to work because, apparently, they were getting bored. Well, it served everybody’s purpose, after all.

 

One year down the line and are we looking at ‘back to square one’? Are we on the verge of a looming lockdown? I hope not! I need my Home back. ‘Some people’ need to go to office and school. While my family will have no choice but to survive with my extraordinary culinary skills, let us have some mercy on them and MASK UP, PEOPLE!! SANITISE! VACCINATE!!

 

Happy Lockdown Anniversary, folks! The phase when we realised and cherished the true meaning of Freedom! This, too, shall pass!