Paku pass ho gaya

In the year 1992 in the month of October my elder son's quarterly examinations were going on. Next day he had his Sanskrit  exam. I was in extreme  tension  because he was very weak in languages. I forced him little hard so that he could pass in language subjects and I needed more time to help him in his study - at least 2 hours.

That evening my husband returned from office with a guest. He introduced him to me "My college friend Mr. J.P.Dwivedi.............he is here for some official work." I hid my tension about my son's exam the next day and very politely  welcomed him and after formal greetings I came to the kitchen to prepare tea and snacks.

With the tea tray when I entered  in the living room my younger son Piku was sitting on his lap. He was asking him "Where is your dada (elder brother)".  Piku told him that dada was reading 'pathantu....pathantu'.  "What's that?"  He questioned. Nobody could understand what Piku wanted to express. I explained him "Tomorrow my elder son will be taking his Sanskrit exam so he was trying to memorize the 'shabd roop and dhatu roop'  (part of Sanskrit Grammar)." "Oh! he means पठति, पठतः, पठन्ति' (pathati...pathatha...pathanti.....)" Bhaisahab said. My husband told me to prepare dinner. Meanwhile Sen family came.  Every one was busy with tea and chatting.

Now I had to prepare dinner for our guest. Time passed and I had a tension for exam. My son needed my help. My mind raced - what might happen if he is not able to secure pass marks?  In the  parents- teachers meeting his teacher and his father both will scold me. Oh! forget it, nobody will understand my problem. I came in the kitchen and concentrated in cooking. My husband came into the kitchen and said "Sanyals have come, so please make another round of tea." Then he asked me "Where is Dwivedi gone?" I was surprised "I don't know, he is your friend and you were sitting with him, not me."

More then two hours passed. I finished my cooking and called everyone for dinner. I came to my kids room and saw an amazing scene. The gentleman (Mr. Dwivedi) was sitting on the study table and Piku was hanging on his shoulder. Dwivedi and my elder son Paku were talking happily. Amazing!!! It seemed that they knew each other since long.  I called them for dinner. My tension remained inside me.

Time passed. After a couple of weeks there was the dreaded 'Parents - Teachers Meeting.' I and my kids went to the school. I was mentally  prepared to listen to a lot of complaints about our elder son from his class teacher Mrs. Shreenivasan . When I entered the classroom Mrs. Shreevasan was surrounded by parents. I said "Good morning." She raised her head and said " Oh! Mrs. Banerjee...before I show you the result, would you please meet with Mrs. Verma in room number 17? She wants to talk to you."  Me and my son looked at each other. A kind of hopelessness showed up on our faces. Mrs. Verma was his Sanskrit teacher. We went to room number 17. Mrs. Verma joyfully welcomed us and said "Look!  Mrs. Banerjee...I thought that your son could never do well in languages - specially Sanskrit, and I have to struggle to give him minimum pass mark. I am happy that I was wrong. He can do excellent if he wishes so. Now you just see he has got full marks in Sanskrit.  I have cut half a mark because of his poor hand writing ." He got nineteen and half out of twenty. This is first time that he has scored excellent in a language paper.

I remembered Mr. J.P. Dwivedi said that night that Sanskrit was his favorite subject and by mistake he had become an engineer. He had taught Paku for a little less than two hours that day - that too casually - and now he got excellent marks in Sanskrit.

I realised that day, that a good teacher can make any child excellent.  

The Gourmet and The Chef's Love

Recently my dear friend wrote in her blog "A happy couple?" I am quoting her "No one can be happy every moment of his/her life and that does not classify them to be unhappy. We all have happy moments in our lives."

I totally agree with her. If we enjoy these moment we can make our life happy and fruitful. In this context I want to tell about my self. Me and my husband are north-pole and south-pole. It's not just the appearance that is different, but our thoughts, beliefs, behavior, our tastes, our likings and disliking are totally different - poles apart. But one thing is clear that two poles make a world. The world where the children are safe and happy and where our elders are comfortable and cared. Two like poles can not make a world. I am going to tell you about two romantic dishes here which reflects the relationship and love (of a happy couple).

One Holi, (festival of colors) evening I and Abhijit visited our friend Dr. A.K. Singh's home. Doctor-saab and his wife 'Suman-ji' welcomed us warmly. Soon after we settled down in their drawing room, Suman-ji served us a lots of eatables. 3-4 types of sweets and variety of snacks plus 'Dahi Bara'. [Dahi Bara is a dish made of urad dal (lentil). Soak the dal and then make a smooth batter . Add some ginger and other spices. Take a dollop of batter and deep fry it. Then serve fried Bara with sour cream (dahi) and garnish with roasted cumin seed.]

Dahi Bara is one of my favorite dishes. So at first I picked up the Dahi Bara plate. I was amazed to see the size of Bara. I took a good look at the plate again and asked Suman-ji very politely "Did you make this at home?" She laughed and said "Bhabi-ji you are very intelligent." I could not make any relation between the size of Bara and my intelligence. I looked at her blankly. She pushed her husband by her elbow and said "Will you tell them please?" Doctor-saab smiled and told us the whole story. "In the early morning of The Holi, Suman was busy frying Dahi-Bara in the kitchen, when her friends came. She left the kitchen and went off with her friends to play Holi. I thought let me help her finish this job. By the time Suman came back, I had fried all the Baras. She was surprised and said "What the hell have you done... ...look... ...how big these Baras are???" I said "The size does not matter. You may serve one piece instead of two." Then Doctor-saab asked me "Bhabiji! How about the taste"? I smiled and said "Romantic Dahi Baras are always tasty . What's the difference if the size is masculine or feminine."

Another evening of Holi festival - I and Abhijit visited Mr.Sanjoy Sinha's home. This time the dish is Malpuha. [Malpuha is a kind of pan cake shallow fried and soaked in sugar syrup.]

Sanjoy and his wife Ruby welcomed us. As we settled down in their drawing room, Ruby placed a big bowl of malpuhas on the table. I was hesitating to eat as I am diabetic. But Ruby said "Please Bhabi, take one at least I made it with great love and labor."

Sanjoy interrupted and said "Hey! I made it."

"NO!" said Ruby "You just fried it."

"Frying malpuhas are most important". He raised his voice little.

But Ruby said softly "And making the batter is nothing? I alone did all the preparation."

Sanjoy said "On a holiday, I wake up early morning and fry the malpuha. This is not a matter of joke."

I interrupted them and said "Let me taste it first." I shoved my blood sugar aside took a good size of malpuha in my plate and ate whole of it, then said "This is excellent, Sweet and Romantic."

Memories about a Friend

Barsha is a bright and beautiful girl. She is very poised, well behaved and an intelligent girl. Today, she is a married woman in her mid twenties and is living in a family way. When I got this news from her mother Kabli, I became nostalgic and was transported to a few years in the past.

The little Barsha and her deep black mischievous eyes always drew my attention. She never called me Auntie or Kakima or anything like that. She would call me by my name 'Mini' and claimed me as her friend. When she started to go to school, everyday complains would come from the school or elsewhere about her misdeeds. Her mother used to get disturbed and it would take her 3-4 days to be normal again and as soon as she was normal, a new complaint would come. Lot of parents used to come to me and complain about Barsha as they didn't want to tell anything to her mother and disturb her more.

One day I had gone to attend a Parent - Teacher Meeting in the school and I was busy with my son's class teacher, when someone patted me. I looked back. The lady was my friend. She said "Mini, I want to talk to you about something very important." Her voice expressed that she was in a low mood. After I had finished with my son's class teacher, we came to the lawn. She said in a very wet voice "Look Mini, perhaps you can understand my problem." I was waiting patiently to listen to her. She continued after a few minutes of pause. "Barsha always teases my daughter about her dark complexion. Now my daughter does not want to go to school. The other schools in the township are no good; otherwise I would have admitted her there. Please do me a small favour. Please tell Kabli as I do not want to tell her anything directly." I was confused. I did not say anything to Barsha's mother, but that evening I called Barsha. Barsha rushed to my lap. I asked her "Why do you tease your class mates?" She replied "Class mate... Who... That dark one?" I was shocked. She knows everything she had done. Very politely I told her "Yes that girl. You should not do that. After all, she is your class mate and a friend. Besides that you yourself do not have a fair complexion." Very carelessly she said "So what if I am not fair, but she is dark." I realised that this girl had a much better I.Q. than me. I said "Look Barsha any person may have dark or fair complexion as it is God gifted. You should not criticize God's work. This is the theory of natural selection and..."I almost delivered a theosophical lecture. She pushed her little hand on my mouth and asked "What is God?" I removed her hand from my mouth and said "OH GOD!"

Few days later Kabli came to me with Barsha's school almanac. Her class teacher had written something in red ink. As per the school's rules, whenever they punished a child they informed child's parents. The teacher had written that some other child's mother had complained against Barsha with the school authority and next day Barsha may be punished if the complain was found correct. Kabli broke into tears. "What should I do?" she asked me. After a good thought I said "Be strong and let her go through punishment. I am sure that school will not use the third degree."

Next day Miss Bantta, Barsha's class teacher held Barsha by her ear and dragged her out from the class room to courtyard of the school. There she asked her to stay holding both ears. Barsha asked "Why?" Miss Bantta said in a harsh voice "You have teased a girl just over her dark complexion. This is bad." Barsha said very innocently "So what? You are also very dark." I do not know whether Miss Bantta lost her temper or mind on hearing such a reply.

I came to know that Barsha had not stopped teasing that girl. In the evening, the children were playing in the lobby. I walked up to Barsha and grabbed her. In strong voice I told her "I am kutti (stop talking) with you and never call me your friend." I came back to my flat and shut the door. Four days passed. Meanwhile whenever Barsha met with me in the lobby or any other place, she always tried to draw my attention, but I ignored her.

Fifth day in the noon I finished my son's lunch and asked him "Put out the books from the school bag while I bring back the dry clothes from roof." I opened the door and I saw Barsha was sitting silently outside with both her cheeks on her palm.

I bounced "Barsha! What are you doing here?" Her face looked as if she was extremely sad. I knelt down and asked "What happen?" She said "Why are you kutti (stop talking) with me." I said "You tease your class mate, this is wrong. A wrong person must not be my friend." She climbed up my back and put her little arms round my neck. I said "You promise me that you never hurt that child again." She said "Promise". I stood up taking her on my back. I went to the roof, took the clothes and came back home. I had to help my son in his home work so I asked Barsha to go home. She said "Maa will beat me." Before I could say something she said "You come with me." I had a unpleasant suspicion in my mind, but I went up to her flat. The door was open. I pushed the door. There was a bucket kept upside down near the door. I went inside and peeped in the drawing room. I saw Kabli was lying on sofa bed with a book . She was totally pre occupied with reading. Barsha hid behind me. I made a knocking sound on the door. Kabli looked at me. I asked "Where is Barsha?" She said "She is sleeping in the bed room". I pulled Barsha from behind me. She jumped up and shouted "Barsha!! How did you go outside! I had bolted the door. How did you open it?! Who taught you?!" I understood why the bucket was there. Barsha said innocently "Mini has taught me."

"NOO" I screamed "I did nothing. I never taught her such things. My locking system is different than yours." But I was sure Kabli did not believe me.

Days passed. One evening I met the other child's mother in the market. I asked her about her daughter. She told me very happily that Barsha had stopped teasing her daughter and now they were good friends. Thanks to God. I said "Yes thanks to God." I purchased a big chocolate as I wanted to give Barsha a prize. I directly went her flat. Kabli opened the door and without saying anything she turned back. I did not understand what happened. I kept my bags . Barsha rushed to me and climbed up my lap. Kabli showed me her school almanac without uttering a word. 'Oh God!' another complaint! I settled Barsha on the dinning table and asked her "What did you do this time". she said "I erased Ankit's work book." "What! Why did you do that?" I questioned. She said "His hand writing is very poor." her mother shouted "Taate tor baper ki."(That is not your problem!). Barsha continued "I erased Mohit’s and Abhishek’s and Parul's note book also."

"But why did you do that?" I absolutely did not understand anything. But very innocently she told "I wanted to use my birthday gift"

“Oh no!” I bashed my head by my hand. In her last birthday I gave her a beautiful set of colourful erasers.

My son patted my shoulder and said "Mom you are smiling alone."

I came back to the present.

Yes Barsha always make me smile. Even her memories bring a smile to my life and lips - even today.

Dracula

In the year 1981 when I went to Haridwar immediately after our marriage with my husband, I was 21 years old. My mind was still in a dreamland. Hard facts were yet to come in my life. Haridwar, Ranipur, BHEL E.T. Hostel -166 was my first home - my own home. In E.T. Hostel, the first person I met was 'Kabli'. Now she is a good friend of mine. Another person I met was was S.K.D. Barman. He was a colleague of my husband Abhijit. Barman-da stayed next door to us at 168 E.T. Hostel.

First two days on our arrival at Haridwar, Abhijit stayed on leave to help me settle down in his bachelor flat, which I was to make our own home. On the third day, after Abhijit went to office, I went to the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea for myself. The main door was open. Suddenly Barman-da entered and made a howling sound. The milk pot almost fell from my hand. I got scared. Barman-da just smiled and went away. He would often try to scare me by his pranks. One evening I was sound asleep at about 4:30 p.m., when the door bell rang. I woke up and went to the door. I remembered my husband's instruction about peeping through the peep hole to see who was there before opening the door. I followed his advice and tried to look through the lens. It was absolute dark. I looked again and it was still dark. Just to see why it was dark outside at 4:30 p.m. I opened the door and screamed out "Barman-da!!". Barman-da was was standing taking support of the door and had the peephole covered with his palm. When I opened the door, he was about to fall but managed somehow. He smiled and asked "Why did you open the door without verifying who was outside?". I said "I had guessed it could be you only". "Don't act so brave." he said. I told him very politely "I don't get scared so easily by these childish pranks." He said very seriously "I came to inform you that Abhijit would be late from the office by an hour or two."

That evening after Abhijit was back, while serving tea, I complained to him that Barman-da always tries to scare me. He laughed and asked "Do you get scared?" I said "I do not get scared exactly, but I am getting irritated." He said "Don't worry. Barman is a good person and he will not harm you in any way." Next sunday morning Barman-da came to meet Abhijit. As I served them tea. Abhijit said "Barman, Mini told me that you are always trying to scare her." Barman-da burst out "But she is simply not scared. Even Kabli and other ladies get scared but Mini - I failed to scare her." Abhijit said "You must tell her that you are trying to take revenge by scaring her." "Revenge?" - a big question hit my brain. I asked "Barmanda, what is this REVENGE business? I haven't done any harm to anyone."

Abhijit started to laugh. Barman-da said "It is a long story. When we joined BHEL we did not have any powered vehicle. The only personal conveyance we had was bicycle. Some times when we were fed-up of mess cooking, we used to go to Haridwar and take food at 'Chotiwala Restaurant'. It is a vegetarian joint but the food is good. One evening Abhijit, me along with two other friends decided to go to Haridwar. Four of us paddled our way through the bye-pass road to Chotiwala restaurant. After we finished our dinner, the friends wanted to do some shopping in the lower market but Abhijit said that he wanted to go back to the hostel. I also felt like going back. Abhijit and I started paddling home-wards. Since it was dark already, I wanted to return by the main road but Abhijit suddenly took a turn towards the bye-pass road. The road was absolutely empty and there were no street lights either. I wanted to return by the main road which was well lit and also there was sufficient traffic. I pleaded with him but he was adamant to take the jungle road and I will never forget what he did to me that night. I could have died." I protested "No! Abhijit cannot kill anybody. I know him very well." Barman-da said "Do you think of murder? What he did was worse than murder."

Abhijit then told his side of the story - "When I turned in the bye-pass road or the jungle road, it was totally deserted and dark. Barman was cycling behind me. He tried to convince me that the road was not safe, but he did not turn back to the main road either. I told Barman that we were not carrying much of cash or valuables with us, so what was the fear? Barman said "You might be a non believer, but there are ghosts and they can take up any shape and form - even human form and they prefer dark and deserted areas and if they find people like us, they can kill us. Please Abhijit, we have not come far, we can still return and take the main road." I told him that in our childhood we were told such stories so that we would not venture in deserted areas and get lost. There was nothing to fear about as we were two of us. But Barman continued to tell me rubbish ghost stories. He said that he knew a person who had met a ghost who had hooves instead of palms in his hands and that person also had met a headless ghost (Skandakata). He also told me that these ghosts create such a situation that one gets lost in the way. He said "Abhijit, till now we know the way and can return back to the main road. Please let us not go any further. We may fall into some kind of trouble." I just ignored him and continued to paddle and Barman also followed me. Meanwhile we had traveled almost midway of the dark jungle road and I also understood that this fellow was scared of darkness. Ahead of us was the industrial area and we saw some men were sitting around a fire. Barman told me "Abhijit, let us ask them if we are on the right way. A kind of mischief came to my mind. A week ago we had seen a film "Dracula" in the club. So a plot came to my mind. I told him "Don't go there. They are not humans." He was taken aback. He asked "How - how can you say so?" I told him "Look into their eyes - they are hollow." He didn't even look at them and was really scared. After a while at a lonesome spot, I stopped and put my bicycle aside. Barman was already scared and now he got confused. He asked "What happened?" I told him "I am thirsty." He said "There is nothing to drink here." I said "Look Barman, this is a new moon night. My canines grow as night grows and I drink human blood. I brought you here so that I can quench my thirst. I haven't had human blood since I joined BHEL." Hearing this Barman started to shiver. He said "A...A...Abh...Abhijit you a...a....are joking r...right?....." Suddenly it came to my mind that if this fellow faints now, how will I carry him and his bicycle? So I faked a laugh to sooth him and said "Of course it is a joke." It took me a good half an hour to make him normal."

Now Barman-da said "See your husband frightened me so much that I could have died. He is worse than a killer. I know I cannot frighten him so I wanted to take revenge on you, but I failed to do so. TUMI TO ORO BAAP HOCHCHOO. (YOU ARE MUCH GREATER THAN HIM)"

Chronicles in a Cold NIght

In the month of December at Haridwar it was too cold. The minimum temperature was 6 degree Celsius. In our home Abhijit was busy chatting with his friend Hemuda (H.P.Roy). I and his wife Kabli were busy in the kitchen. We were experimenting something. Kids were busy with their tricycles. It was 7-O'Clock in the evening. The door bell rang. I opened the door and saw Maloti was standing outside with a horrible expression on her face. Her son was in her lap and the kid also looked frightened. Instead of asking her to come in, I asked her "What happened?" In a single breath she told us "We were returning from Haridwar to our township through bye - pass road. The road was totally empty and you know there are no road lights on that road. It was dark and we were alone on the road. At one place, before the road turns sharply, a scooter over took us and vanished. We turned along the road. The scooter was not visible in the cars headlights. Probir asked me to look behind if the scooter was behind us but it not there either. Probir stopped and took a u-turn. We came back to the bend where the scooter had overtaken us. We could see a light and also could hear the sound of a running scooter engine in the woods on the road side slope at the bend. Probir aligned his car to beam the car head lights towards the point. Now we could see one person lying unconscious. We thought that the fellow did not turn with the road and went inside the woods and met with an accident. His face was covered with blood. Probir said "Let us help him". With great difficulty, we put him in the car and rushed to your home. You know this is a medico-legal case and Probir is scared. So please Abhijit-da help him."

Abhijit rushed downstairs, followed by Hemu-da. After them we three ladies and kids ran. Probirda was sitting in the car on the driving seat. On the back seat of the car, a Sardarji lay unconscious. The car was Premier Padmini, so Abhijit and Hemuda sat on the front seat beside Probirda. Probirda drove immediately and they went off. Maloti and her kid were left behind with us.

7:30 PM: We three ladies were chatting. The kids were playing. Maloti felt normal now. We talked about kids, school, kitchen, maid servant and mother in law.

8:30 PM: Chatting was going on

9:30 PM: We fed the kids

10:30 PM: Kids went to sleep. Silence covered my home.

11:00 PM: Anxiety built up. It was so heavy that we three ladies were sitting side by side in absolute silence.

11:30 PM: The three men arrived. They were giggling and laughing. Our anxiety turned into anger. "Where had you been!” We questioned. The answer was like this:

Probirda - "When we reached the hospital, we met Rajiv (Dr. Rajiv Dhusia is one of the dearest friend of Probirda) He was in emergency duty. Rajiv looked at me suspiciously and said ‘You have hit this man. I told you a thousand times not to drive too fast. This is police case. I am not going to touch this.’ I told him the whole story, but he would not believe me. I said that whatever I have said about the incident was true - ask Abhijit and he said ‘No I don't know anything. I am not an eyewitness to the incident. I joined Probir from my home much after the so called incident happened.’ - Look they call themselves my friends. Finally, Rajiv investigated the Sardarji and asked his assistant to clean him up. His forehead got three stitches. Another paramedic staff came and gave him an injection. That fellow recognised Sardarji and said ‘Yeh fir aa gayaa?’ (He has come back again?) Rajiv asked him ‘Do you know him?’ The fellow named Joginder said ‘Few days ago some one brought him here. He was heavily drunk and had fallen in a drain.’ Rajiv asked the paramedics to check his breath and wash his stomach. After sometime, Sardarji was regaining his consciousness. Rajiv asked him to get up from the table and walk. Hemu rushed to help him. Sardarji took support on Hemu's shoulder and started walking. Rajiv asked Hemu to leave him alone as he wanted to test the level of consciousness in the patient. Hemu left him immediately and Sardarji fell down. Joginder and other paramedics picked him up and settled him on the table. We were waiting for him to regain consciousness again."

Abhijit -  "Meanwhile Joginder searched some register and said that his name was Lumber Singh of fabrication shop of BHEL and stayed in Sector -I of the township. Rajiv left his chair and walked up to the table. He patted Sardarji's cheeks and called ‘Lumber Singh..... Lumber Singh..... Look at me.... here ....here.... look at me...What is your name?....’ Lumber opened his eyes and said ‘Surjit Singh Sahab!’ Rajiv asked ‘Then who is Lumber Singh?’  He said ‘I am Sahab.’ ‘Then why did you say Surjit Singh?’ Rajiv questioned. Sardarji said ‘You said Lumber, tell me your name... so I thought you know my name.... so .... why I said.......’  This time Rajiv asked politely ‘Who is Surjit Singh?’ Lumber said ‘My father, Sahab.’ Rajiv lost his temper and shouted ‘Always add Shri or Mr. before father's name.’ Hemu said that this was a good logic to prefix Shri or Mr. to the father's name, otherwise we might have thought that Surjit Singh was his son. We felt that Lumber was out of danger now, so we started back home. This is really a chilly night."

Hemuda - "On the way back we thought that we must inform his home. So we went to Sector -I. It is a cold night. Not a single soul was visible outside. Fog was growing denser as time passed. We took 15 to 20 minutes to search his quarter as Joginder had given us the address. Probir stopped the car and said ‘Hemu please go and tell Lumber Singh's family that he is in the hospital.’ I said ‘I will never do this because I remember when Abhijit purchased a new motor bike and offered me a happy ride, I was really happy till he hit the old man. The old man fell down. Abhijit stopped the bike and rushed to help the old man. Suddenly, the old man's son ran towards me and hit me a solid blow. Full 15 days my left eye was black. NO I am NOT going to tell anybody anything. Abhijit may go.’ But Abhijit said that he had a problem with unknown ladies. So Probir should go. Then Probir said that in a winter night at 11:30 PM it is not good to knock someone's door and tell a lady that her husband was in hospital. How would she react? If she starts crying then what should we do? Then all three of us went together and pushed the call bell. After five minutes, the lights were on. Some lady asked from inside "Who is there?" Probir said "You don't know me madam. I just came to inform you that Lumber Singh was in hospital and he......." His speech was interrupted by the voice from the inside the quarter "Yeh aadmi marta bhi nahin!" (This man always survives.) and the lights went off. We understood that the lady was accustomed with such incidents. We came back. Bye the way what happened to the kitchen experiment - let me see the result.

Perfect Rotis???

At the last leg of the almost 48 hours long train journey from Varanasi to Bangalore we were tired and feeling like deboarding the train as early as possible. Few months ago my elder son got married and I was eager to visit his new home. After having reached his home late in the evening at about 9:30 pm, we exchanged greetings and pleasantries, and settled down for dinner. My daughter in law served us freshly prepared home made food with garma-garam ROTI.

Roti is an Indian home made bread generally eaten by 80% Indians. The special thing of roti is that most of the Indian women can make it nicely. Recipe of the roti is very simple. Take two cups wheat flour pour some water ,kneed a smooth dough. Roll it flat like a disc, then toast it on a pan. Thats all.

My heart blessed Neha, I remember those days when I had started cooking - specially roti. Before marriage I was knowing how to eat only and not to cook. After marriage I came to Hardwar with my newly wed husband a man whom I did not know very well.

In our new home we spend 15-16 days with boiled food, fruits, milk and bread. My husband (poor soul) never uttered a complain about the food I served him. In evenings, his friends used to invite us and fed us a good home made food for a couple of week. 15-16 days later, I made up my mind to cook roti. Those days I had a kerosene stove. It was more complicated than gas stove. The flame could not be managed easily in that stove.

I started from first step. First I collected the THINGS I NEED. Then I took a big bowl and put 2 cups flour in it. Then I poured some water in it. In a great hesitation I dipped my fingers in the bowl as I had to mix the water and flour together. Few minutes latter I felt that the flour was not binding. So I mixed some more water in it. Again I was mixing the water and flour but this time the flour made a paste like formation. I added more flour in the bowl and tried to make perfect dough. .After 5-6 times of adding flour and water, I succeeded in preparing the dough. Though it was not very perfect dough but I thought that I could make roti with it.

Next step- I took a little ball out of the dough and placed it on the platform. Now I was rolling it with the help of a rolling pin as I saw my mother did before my marriage. But the dough stuck on to the rolling pin. I scratched it and made a ball again. This time I patted dry flour on it and tried to roll again. This time the dough stuck on to the platform. Again I scratched it from the platform and made a ball. This time I patted dry flour on the other side also and rolled it. Believe me, this was not an easy task.

I rolled the dough till 1 millimetre thick but it took a shape of Australia's map. One side was thinner than the other side. Next step - very carefully I took the map like structure and placed it on the pan. While I was busy in rolling the dough the pan had become too hot and when I placed the rolled dough on the pan immediately it burnt. After one hour and ten minutes, I could make only 8-9 rotis. On the dinner table, my husband looked at me. I thought that he was asking me "What is this?" I cleared my sweat from my forehead but could not say anything. I felt very low - I was really hopeless! - good for nothing. I had to eat whatever I had cooked. My poor husband remarked nothing but ate quietly.

In the bed I wept silently with two brunt fingers. Few days latter I visited the pathology lab in BHEL hospital, as my doctor had prescribed me for a pregnancy test. The lab assistant handed me my test report and said “Congratulations, its positive." I was walking to my home I made up my mind that whether God blessed me with a boy or a girl I must teach the child cooking. Through my roti making experience I had learnt a good lesson. Earning bread and making bread both are equally important for survival.

1st lesson

One fine evening I and my son Pakku were arguing with each other, and the topic was why one should drink milk. I forced him to finish the milk and only then could he go to play. At this time my husband was watching cricket match on TV.

Suddenly my next door neighbor, Probhir-da came and directly asked me, “Do you want to learn car driving?” I knew in the year 1986 he had purchased a second hand car. The car was a Fiat Premier Padmini 1976 model. My first reaction was ‘I can’t believe that anyone would want to teach me car driving’, and my second reaction was, “Yes! I will!” I immediately got ready to go for a car driving lesson.

In the car I, my son, Maloti and her son sat down at the back seat, and Abhijit settled next to the driver’s seat. Probir was driving the car. Few minutes later, we reached the stadium.

The stadium was a huge circular playground, and the audience area consisted of 15-16 steps. The entry and the exit gates were separate. The exit was diverged away from the entrance area by a big white wall. This was to prevent unwanted crownding near the entrance gate.

On the way, my husband asked Probir-da, “Why do you want to teach Mini car driving?” Probir-da laughed and said “This is a strategy.” Maloti didn’t hear it, and I couldn’t understand it.

So in the stadium, Maloti, her son, Pakku and Abhijit sat down on the steps. I was in the car with Probir-da. I was in the driver’s seat and Probir-da was teaching me. “Look, this is the ignition key. From this the motor will start. This is the gear shaft, horn, accelerator, breaks and clutch...” and the theory continued. I turned the key and fired up the engine. Probir-da said “Take the gear and push the accelerator, leave the clutch gently”. I did as he told me to do. The motor car was now rolling on it’s wheels. My heart started pounding faster. My Blood pressure rose up. “Now change the gear.” I did the same “Now accelerate.” I pushed my foot on the accelerator. Now the car took speed and run nicely on the stadium ground. This time Probir-da said, “Mini, now change the gear.” I tried to follow his instructions, but the car stopped. Again I started from the beginning. The car ran again. Then Probir-da said, “Now concentrate on the steering wheel.” “Yes!” I replied confidently. Confidence was beaming out of me now. With confidence I pushed the accelerator so hard that the car took the speed of 100 Km/hr. This speed scared me. Right in front of me was the white wall, that was coming towards me in full speed. My heart was beating fast. “Now what should I do???” Probir-da was shouting and giving me a lot of instructions. But inside me my fuses were already blown out. I left the steering and shut my eyes tightly. Probir-da was still shouting beside me. “Leave the accelerator and push the break.” “I... I... I’m doing so.” I said faintly. He said in same tone. “NO! You have left the steering wheel.” Now I remember, I was pushing the accelerator. I pulled back my feet with the help of my hand. The car stopped just a few feet away from the white wall.

Behind the car Abhijit and Maloti were running. Both the kids were shouting as they ran behind Maloti. Probir-da got out of the car and bust out. “Shala! Onner bou, Na hole chore fele ditaam.” (Damn! Other’s wife, otherwise I would have thrown her out.)

Maloti opened the door and Pat my shoulder and asked “Are you alright?” I came out of the car and felt relieved. Maloti said, “So I’m not learning from this man. He is the worst teacher.”

After a long time I realized the strategy of Probir-da. He simply wanted to hurt Maloti’s ego. And he succeeded. Today Maloti is an excellent car driver.