The bitterness of truth...

So Hannah and Mom are away to the little town that mom works in for two days, and shashwat and I have stayed back coz we cannot afford to miss school [And to make most of the Independence day holiday]

And of course, just an hour after they leave...

"The cooking gas is over!" Cries my cook as I have just taken up my physics book (We have cooking gas cylinders here- that get replenished once they're empty)

I look dismally at the kitchen. She is right in the MIDDLE of her cooking-- the gravy (sabji, as we call it) is half cooked, and she's just beginning to cook rotis (Indian tortillas)- and the kitchen is a mess. Her expression is even more infuriating- she looks at me like its all my fault.

Crisis management... *ring ring*...

"Hello?"

"Hi.. mom. Umm... we just ran out of gas"

"ohhhhhh" I hear her sigh at the other end. "Is she (the cook) still cooking?"

"yeah. she's not done with anything yet" I'm getting more and more frustrated. Why can't she just offer a magic solution like she always does?

"Okay. Do one thing" Something in her voice tells me its not gonna be something I'll like. "Go to our old house and get the gas cylinder from there. Do you know how to detach it?"

"No" I say in a grumpy, almost complaining tone. I can feel my heart sinking. I had hoped for a day of solid studying, and generally chilling and doing what I like. But by the way things were going, that seemed far from likely...

"Ask one of the workers to come with you and get it" A reference to the people still working on the furniture in mom and dad's room (just one of the disadvantages of moving into a house when it is only half-done)

"Okay"

"Do you have money for a rickshaw?"

"No!" I say with a new hope... Hoping she would just tell me to stay home and eat the left overs...

"Just borrow some from your granny" Oh of course. Ms. magic solutions. What was I thinking?

"Okay" I say, even more sullenly.The cook has been following me around the house all through this conversation, constantly asking me questions: Are you talking to your mom? Can I go? What should I do with the raw batter?... I wanna yell so loudly: CAN I FINISH TALKING??!!!

But I just hang up on mom, and tell her to put everything away. Right now, all I can think of is mom's direction: "ask a worker to come with you-- go to the old house-- detach the cylinder (I still dunno how!!)-- haul it into the rickshaw-- bring it home and plug it in"... I don't have time to deal with anyone else. I tell her she can go home...

I finally convince one of the two people working in the inside room to come with me (incidentally, his name is Arun)-- and he timidly follows me to the rickshaw stand a little distance away, and sits as far from me as he can once we get into one.

We finally get there, and thereon, things go (surprisingly) smoothly- the guy knows how to detach the cylinder, and we manage to get into the rickshaw and get home fast enough not to be charged ridiculous amonts of money. I pay up 20 bucks (from my wallet- yeah, I found some at last)... and we haul the heavy cylinder upto the thrid floor, and attach it.

Ah! All well!

Oh! Wait "Didi, I'm hungry!"

In my hurry to get the cylinder to the house, I'd completely forgotten what exactly I got it for! There was no food. And a hungry brother is not the best person to have around.

Crisis management! *ring ring*

"Amma, I want the cook's number!"

"But why?" Arrrrgghhhh!! Because just when I sit down to study in peace (which, if you remember, was the reason I didn't come along!), everything has to go wrong!!!

"She left"

"Well, she won't come back. She must have already gotten home."

In the meanwhile, I looked at the half-cooked stuff lying in front of me, and decided I would finish the cooking off-- that would be the fastest thing.

"Nevermind, I'll cook the rest and feed Shashu"

"But putta..." She did not believe me, obviously. "Do you want ME to call the cook?"

"No mom. I'll manage!"

"But... but you don't know how to finish cooking the sabji..." And she launches into elaborate instructions on how to finish cooking..."But are you sure?" She finishes, still not sure.

"Yes ma. I'll manage. I promise. I'll call you if need be"That convinces her. "Okay putta. Take care! I'm sooooo happy!! This made my day... thank you so much for handling everything!"

I finish the call, and take on cooking with a renewed vigor. The house maid watches on sceptically, offering to do it herself every five minutes. I refuse... I WANT to do it now.

After adding a few things to the sabji and setting it on boil, I take on the rotis and (very slowly) make a few.

"Shashwat! Get a plate and serve yourself!" I try to sound all mom-like.

This is fun. And my brother is actually obeying me for the first time. He gets a plate and watches in amazement as his sister, whom he's never seen in the kitchen, is actually COOKING a full-blown meal!

He serves himself and starts eating. I look at him with a questioning look.

"Its forgettable" he says.

I feel the rage building up in me. "Why don't YOU try cooking once, and you'll know what it takes?!!"

"I'm only talking about the sabji. The rotis are good" He saw me making only the rotis, and assumed the cook had already cooked the sabji when she left.

"I cooked the sabji too!" I say defiantly.

"Oh!" He looks down, finishes the rest of the meal, and goes back into his room.

I just finished my lunch. It WAS forgettable. Even the rotis.

Oh for the bitterness of truth....