Wednesday 14 February 2018

How I got An Impromptu Valentine Lunch

During my self allotted, strictly ten minutes only, of FaceBook time earlier this evening, I came across scores of pictures of couples, liberally splashed upon FB walls, in honour of Valentine's Day. It is always nice to see happy couples, no matter what the occasion. Whatever the origins of this day, in its current avtaar, it smacks of blatant commercialization and seems to consist solely of clever marketing gimmicks by multinationals, on line retailers and restaurants. The number of 'Valentine's Day Special Offers' I have had this past week on my India sim card from my favourite restaurants in my home town Pune, would put St.Valentine himself to shame... And they have served no greater purpose, besides making my craving for home and food from those restaurants worse...And the older I grow, the more abhorrent the occidentalization of oriental sensibilities and  norms seems to me...Not that I have anything against chocolates and cards and bears... Go figure that one out! But if you live or have ever lived in India, you will know what I mean. So how did I get to have lunch with my husband on Valentine's Day? That too on a smack, bang, middle of the week, Wednesday?
When you've been submerged in taking classes on line, busier than ever, because many of your students are, in the next two weeks, facing the all important board exam in India, and a constant stream of solved papers vend their way across WhatsApp for correction, thanks to conscientious students, your house keeping abilities take a definite hit. Yesterday after four consecutive hours of teaching online, my brain was whirling..My house help had bid a quick goodbye in between my sessions on Skype and had left by the time I finished. She is still new and under training because my previous two decided they wanted to increase world population statistics...I did remind her (obviously after muting the Skype microphone!) that she had been making a lower quantity of chappati dough than needed, so she should make more than she had made the previous day. But, presuming that my instructions had been followed, obviously I had not checked, until I began making chappattis for dinner.. And I finished the dough! By this time exhaustion had seeped in and I just decided to make more the next morning. (One of our favourite, friendly house hold arguments is who gets more exhausted, my husband in his glass cabin or me in my virtual class room! We haven't established a clear winner yet...)
Hardly had dinner got over, when I remembered that our electric fence alarm had gone off during class and I had turned it off, intending to see to it later. By the time I fed the dog, cleared the kitchen, served  and had dinner, it was late. With my husband and son already asleep, it was left up to the security guard and me to try to figure out what had triggered the alarm... the garage was opened, the ladder was dragged out, the shears were taken out to cut off a few slender branches that were too close to the electric fence and every inch of the perimeter was scanned to see if we could figure out the issue. I had to turn it on every ten minutes to see if he had found the problem  and then hurriedly turn it off when it began wailing, since it was close to midnight by this point...All these tedious efforts were in vain and finally I just turned it off and decided to deal with it the next morning when the gardener came in...
This morning my brain was still frazzled as I opened the fridge for making breakfast and lunch for the tiffins and half of it was focused on an impending India trip, wondering whether I needed to fly out soon to see my Dad, who is home after a fortnight's stay in the hospital, or if I could wait until spring break in March or stick to my regular India schedule and travel in June. New tests are being ordered, old ones being repeated, he says he is fine, his symptoms tell a slightly different story, so it's not a very clear picture! A quarter of my brain was focused on my daughter in college, like it is when I am in the kitchen because she doesn't get her choice of food there... She is dancing in a talent show in college and I was wondering whether she is taking in enough calories, as she is certainly expending a lot of them, judging by the dance practice videos she sends us. The child centric part of the brain was also yelling out to my son to be sure to pack the clothes he needed for the drama dress rehearsal post school...So with only a quarter of brain power trained on the task in hand, I went through three steel tins in the fridge without comprehending that none of them contained chappatti dough! During a repeat perusal, I realized that one had peas, another had mint leaves, the third chopped tomatoes...Then it hit me like a ton of bricks, that in all the melee of the previous night, I had completely forgotten that I had used up all the dough. I had rice and daal (lentils) ready for my son, who, being half a Maharastrian Brahmin, (we are known for our proclivity towards rice!) would happily slurp them up for lunch. My husband was a different matter, as all North Indian Brahmins ( actually all north Indians per se!) crave the glutenous carbohydrates in chappati and though he wouldn't say no to rice and daal only, I knew it wouldn't hit the spot! I stood there wondering whether I had time to make dough, then roll out chapattis and then deciding I didn't, because a late start of even five minutes makes a horrendous difference to travel time in early morning Nairobi traffic.
I tentatively asked him if he could send the driver to collect the lunch.. This is something we NEVER do, firstly because, being a capable Capricorn (Linda Goodman said it , I only quote!),  I am rarely caught on the wrong foot in the kitchen and usually have back ups lined up for everything and secondly because a twenty four kilometre round trip just to collect lunch, sounded like sacrilege to my carbon foot print conscious Capricornian mind... And that is when he surprised me! "Since it's Valentine's Day, why don't you join me for lunch?", he asked, "I will send the car and driver." (Looks like Librans aren't too hung up on carbon footprints!). Obviously he knows my low slung Mercedes will hit every single one of those extra large speed bumps they have put up for no rhyme or reason in the entire area where his office is located. Besides I rarely have time to visit his office and I'm not sure of the route. Also as the 'Boss's wife', I become the cynosure of all eyes and I dislike that. I am happy as an independent entity in my own academic world... I had a busy day ahead.I had to make Pulav (a rice and spiced vegetable dish) to feed forty people at my son's after school drama rehearsal dinner, I had a morning class and an evening class to teach, I had papers to go through but I said yes! After all, it's not every day that I run out of chappatti dough...or get invited out for lunch by my husband!
And that was how I got an impromptu lunch in the mall close to his office.. It felt SO much like playing truant, like being where you are not supposed to be, it felt like fun after a tough month, it felt like he had to sneak out of his own office to have lunch (not really!)... And then my son called up, as we were on our way back, saying he had forgotten the belt he needed as part of his costume and asked if I could please drop it off to school. I had to tell him I wasn't home, as I had gone out for lunch with his Dad. He couldn't believe his ears.."Lunch with Dad..how... oh it's Valentine's Day! Mom, I really don't want to know what you are doing in the middle of the day with Dad", he said, ("It's just lunch!" I interjected.) "just get my belt across, please, by 3:30 pm!"
And that one statement of his was a perfect example of the occidental thought process super imposing itself on the more traditional oriental one...!! But it certainly was one of the best Valentine's Days I have had in close to a quarter of a century, (yes it's been nearly that long since we first met!), completely unpremeditated, unplanned, unexpected and all thanks to no dough!




                            When you can't get Indian vegetarian food, Italian comes a close second..

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