Neelam settled into the corner table at Deepa Food House. She plonked her eye-glasses on the table and wiped her face with a wet tissue. Kannika sank into the chair opposite to her, hanging her purse on the back of the chair. She changed her mind and took it off, and placed it securely on her lap.
“Imagine, we got table so easily. I thought, Saturday, this place will be super crowded.”
“One Rava Masala Dosa and one Pav Bhaji. And two coffees” They gave their orders.
“I must tell you what happened today. First of all I couldn’t fit into my blue blouse. Had to change saree plan last minute! And then the driver came late. I told him to go pack sweets at Shoprite and he heard — fruits!”
“I was wondering why you brought 20 bags of apples and oranges. You should have seen Suman’s face. She was shocked. You know how particular she was about giving sweets.”
“Anyway, Listen, after that, I had to parcel them all up. Told the gardener and he, like, made a crude bundle with this fat rope! It was annoying. And then Dinesh wanted the car. Seriously! Like he didn’t know I had a service project to attend”
“Finally it all worked out well na! I think the kids were happy with the competitions. We made them sing too. I am sure they were thrilled”
“Guess what, we keep saying keep your surroundings clean, blah blah. But you know what I did? I forgot to pick up the cartons, rope etc. I left it all there only.”
“Never mind yar. District officers came, The photos have come out well, your first project as President 2022–23 went off well. And we got our favorite corner table! Best day!”
Elsewhere earlier in the day…
The faint rays of the morning sun filtered through holes in the tin roof making white rods into the dark interiors. Sivan was sprawled on the only thick cotton mattress, his snores filling the room. Usha turned to her side and curled into her thin sheet. She watched her amma Saroopa stretching out her arms above her head. Usha knew it meant only one thing, another day had begun!
Saroopa sprung up with a quick movement, throwing a quick glance at Sivan. She carefully covered him with his sheet before scurrying off into the kitchen to wash her face. Usha suppressed a giggle. Amma looked so much like that squirrel under the yellow-flower tree! Usha was constantly amazed at her Amma’s endurance. Usha resolved — “I will never suffer a bad husband like that.” She knew what her Amma was thinking, “Let him sleep. He came home late”.
And if Usha complained she would say “ See, there is not a single new bruise on me. The black patch on my arm is from last week. I was careless with salt in the dal. My mistake.”
“Oof my amma”, thought Usha as she nudged her twin Disha who was in slumber, her mouth open, a drool making its way into her faded blue pillow.
Saroopa signaled to Usha and left for Kamalakka’s house. Usha quietly rolled up the thin bedding and skipped into the kitchen area. On Fridays and Saturdays her Amma went to Kamalakka’s house early. They always did some puja. So kitchen work fell on Usha’s shoulders. Though hardly ten, Usha knew how to light the stove and make a good kanji (porridge). She recalled last month’s fiasco! Usha had used up 4 ladles of flour and made a large pot of kanji! They spiced it with red chillies and thinned it out with buttermilk and consumed it for the next 3 days! What a beating she got! Usha arched her back at that memory.
Now Amma was careful! The cane tray was neatly laid out. One heap of ragi flour, one onion, green chili and a pot of water. To her delight she found a nice piece of jaggery nestled among the spices. Sweet kanji was her favorite. She cooked the ragi flour and portioned out a bit to sweeten it with jaggery. The remaining she spiced up with chopped onions and chili.
“Best day! What a feast!” she thought.
The kitchen sounds wafted into the room and Disha was soon awake. Saturdays were special. Many devotees rushed into the neighboring temple to offer their weekly prayers. She was quite sure it was more for the steaming hot idli vada available at Murugan Tea center. There was invariably a larger rush there on Saturdays! But these devotees also paid handsomely for stringed puja flowers. One arm length each for two gods. Before her Amma returned from Kamalakka’s house Disha must string together at least fifteen hand-lengths! She scrubbed her face and hands with a wet towel, cleaned the place. She looked at the calendar god on the wall and said, “Please Deva, no kanakambara flowers. Those small orange flowers take ages to string!” She peeked into the large cloth bag. White jasmine flowers and bright yellow sevantige, chrysanthemums winked at her from within. Chrysanthemums were the best. They were easy to string and took up more space. They looked gorgeous too. She smiled at the calendar god, “Why fifteen? I’ll make twenty five hand-lengths today”, she promised him. Her nimble fingers worked quickly stringing the flowers, six jasmines to two sevanthiges.
“ Best Day! What a feast!” she thought.
Soon it was time for school. Teacher had asked them to come neatly dressed. ‘Washed clothes’ she had said. Kamalakka’s daughter’s frocks, only slightly torn! Shiny beads round their neck. Two tight braids. Saroopa had tears in her eyes when she waved her hands around their faces and cracked her knuckles.
‘’Deva, protect them.” she said.
“Okay amma enough, it is getting late”, Usha squealed, jumping up and down.
‘Share your slippers at the big neem tree. Who is wearing it first?’
Disha pointed to her feet, ‘Me’.
Seven nice ladies came to school. With red lips and swishing sarees. They smelt so good! Usha hugged one of the ladies to see if the fragrance would rub into her. The nice lady didn’t seem to mind! Everyone got blue bags of goodies, they sang songs, and listened to some speeches. There were some competitions too.
But the best part was the long rope they left behind. After the ladies left what fun games they played! Nathan Sir organized them into two teams. Tug-of-war, Train-train, and that new game snake-snake!! How much they laughed. It was the best day ever.
The key to happiness is knowing that you have the power to choose what to accept and what to let go. Let each situation be what it is, instead of what you think it should be.
Ratna Rao has authored 5 books of which 3 are Amazon bestsellers. Her collection of short stories bring a smile to your lips and kindle that elusive flame of good things to come. Click Here to BUY
