Cooking it up

When you are surrounded with people who are always hungry, there's not much you can do but 'cook'. Cooking gets even more happening when you know someone's waiting to gobble all the food up. The pleasure of frying pakodas increass when pakodas vanish from the plate as you keep frying them. Time has run past me, and the hands that stole cookies and ate are now the ones that cook.


It was just yesterday that I would spend afternoons in digging out the home made cookies that my mother hid in the last shelf of the kitchen cupboard. She was one great cook and would make it a point to have a kitchen ful of cookies and cakes and other yummy stuff. But, afternoon was her time off and she would retire to take a quick nap. That was action time for the brothers and sisters in crime. A few friends would also join in and once the mission was accomplished and the box of cookies was recovered, it would be treat time.


The box would be emptied in no time and then was kept back in the same place, like it had never been moved. The crime reporters were bullied and bribed into taking a bite of the grub so that they didn't go yapping about the afternoon exploits. The crime was discovered when guests came home. The box was brought down and opened by the home maker, and to her dismay, teh box would be empty. Bang!! Bang!! Bang!! the reaction spelled. The guests would somehow be treated to some other freshly made snacks (those were the days when atithi was still the devo!!). I remember a time when I prayed vehemently " God, please let the guests live with us here", simply because i feared the wrath that we would have to face later. But, my prayers were turned down. I, the master of sin, would have to face the gallows. The exit of the guests was sign that our time was up. We would be made to own up our faults. But, I
ensured that if I went through hell, I had my gang along with me.


These things usually happened during vacations, when we had the time of our lives. Tele Vision was still not a part of our drawing rooms! Mornings were well spent in finishing off the burdensome holiday homework, which mostly consisted of creative work. But, that wasn't our age to realise we were doing something constructive. Howebver, we somehow slogged to get things done. Evenings began early and went on till the street lights would be switched on. So, it was only the time in between that had to be utilised. So, My mother cooked and we ate. We feared her anger, but, we always missed out on the little smile she always had on her face on discovering the emptied boxes. Our emotional hiccups didn't allow us to see her joy.


I had to go through the entire process of life to discover the magical joy on the faces of people who I live with (my family members). Today, I wait for invisible hands to whisk away the goodies I make. Some do not turn up. I hide the boxes of cookies too, but when I open them up, the things are always there. The present generation is growing up way too soon and in the bid has deprived me of the little joys. In a few days, my home will be bubbling with laughter and with people who will be talking at the same time. I will listen to it all and store it in a can and place it all in a corner of my heart. The one compliment that will surely come my way would be, "Mom you are the best cooker!!". My reaction - a smile and a whistle..