It was lunch time. Warming and heating up the food, I called out for children. I had tough time getting them to the table. “Not hungry yet”, “It can’t be lunch time so early” were the recorded replies that I was played to.
Herding the sheep to the pen would be easier than getting two kids on a summer holiday for the lunch, I thought.
A few seconds later, I sat down for lunch, not waiting for the children that time. The sight of the peeping hot lunch had kicked off the ignition of the digestion machine inside. I was getting hungrier and was growing impatient with every passing second. Offering prayer before biting the morsel, I discovered that the prayer actually was a bit long! It was not coming to an end. It seemed to have got stretched!
Did it occur to you that we make such discoveries at the oddest situation, wont we? (reference: Eureka moment was in the bath tub)
Finally, the prayer ended and I attacked the food like a hungry bear. Few bites later, I heard the sizzling sound. ‘Sizzler for the lunch, someday’, I promised. Few more bites ahead, the sound was accompanied by the charred smell. Thanks to the sugar from the food that had scored a home run in my tummy by then. My thinking capacity was on road to restoration. Another discovery awaited me.
The sound and the smell were indigenous to my kitchen !
Pushing my chair back and leaving my bite in the plate, all at the same time, I dashed towards the kitchen. Turning the knob of the hob off and putting the vessel down from the hob, I turned to start the exhaust fan and the ceiling fan. I achieved this feat in less than 9.50 seconds!
How did I know that? I don’t know. I just thought it must have been 9.50 seconds because Usian Bolt’s world record is for 9.58 seconds . And I beat him. (No GST for thinking that way!) So pat on my back.
The hunger pangs had sent the “Bhaji“* to oblivion. Poor thing! It was left to face the high heat and bear the brunt.
Settling again in the chair, I elevated my status to an ‘athlete’. Munching on the food, I recollected that there was a left over “Aamati”** in the fridge. That called for another trip to the kitchen.
The cold world of fridge always has one or the other stale story to share.
I couldn’t recollect the location of the bowl of “Aamati”. After bending the neck at odd angles, I located it. Warm up exercise for the “athlete”! But I had the hurdles race there. The yogurt pot and soy milk tetra pack blocked my way.
‘I must live by sportsman’s spirit and clear all the hurdles’, I encouraged myself. And it worked! With the bowl of “Aamati” soon in my hands, I felt as if I was holding a prized trophy. The trophy needed some warmth before it could rest on the mantle inside my tummy. I honored it and was returning back to my plate.
The universe conspired to test my athlete status this time. In came the daughter riding on her skate board. Leaving it at the threshold of kitchen, she dashed straight to refill herself with glass of water. I had turned around to restart my lunch. Sensing some object on the ground, thanks to motherly instinct, I spotted the skate board just in time. Before fumbling over and letting Amati spring out of the bowl, I jumped. Landing safely on the ground, I had a sigh of relief. The ripples in Amati lasted for few more seconds more.
Wow…that was a long jump event, I reflected. Had it not turned this way, I wonder what lavish praises the skate board star would have received from me!
Settling back for lunch, I was ruminating the occasions when I engaged in “weight lifting”. Many flashed in my mind, giving me sense of pride! Lifting up multiple bags from the market when I could not resist the lure of mangoes, watermelons and muskmelons all at same time, along with regular supplies of fruits and vegetables, was one of the regular events. Flying back to India from abroad on annual vacation was another scintillating achievement in this category. Lifting the bags packed to the brim, sometimes bordering on defying the seams, from the luggage belt doesn’t has any parallel!
I was about to confer the title of “Track & Field Queen” with full State honour, on me. I was flying too high into my simile world of athletics.
“Aai***, Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiii…. We are hungry”, came the calling from a distant land. That brought me back to the table and face to face with two hungry souls! Gone was the track and field honor and the “athlete status”. In was the status “Can’t talk, Mother only”!
I think “mother only” status is all inclusive! Universal truth, I suppose. What’s your opinion?