The Pakoda Chronicle - Part 2

Part 1

5 months later-

"Kose narikki vai. Saayangalam pakoda panna poren, unga maamanaru ku." Kosu pakoda! (Cut the cabbage. I'm going to make cabbage pakodas for your father-in-law for his evening snack. Cabbage Pakoda!) Anu had never heard of such a thing, but she was happy she had something to do! Cutting the cabbage, she thought back to her mother's house. Evening chai with onion pakodas. God, how she missed that life. Though her mother was fairly traditional and her grandmother was a severe woman, Anu herself had never followed as many rules. Except the all pervasive 3 days isolation rule. Sometimes, she thanked God that her grandmother had been that strict. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to survive in this family, for sure. She heard rain outside. It seemed to rain in this city always, she thought. Saroja saw her daughter-in-law cutting thin slivers of the cabbage and thought only young people could cut it so thin! She heard the rain and screamed at Anu: "Mazhai vardu. Odu di, Anu. Melendu thuni edithindu vaa!" (Its raining, go, run and clothes down)

27 years later

Bringing the clothes back in, she heard the gate open. She peeped down from the terrace to see her husband come in, totally drenched. Anu rushed down to make coffee for him. After giving him his dry clothes, she entered the kitchen looking for the Murukku her mother-in-law had made the previous week. She always kept them hidden and gave it to her son or her grandsons only. Just one, 'shastrathikku' (for the sake of tradition/name sake) in her words for Anu and her daughters.

"Coffee porum. Ippo daan Masala Dosai saaptu varen," he said. (Just coffee will do. I just had a Masala Dosa)

"Avanikku pakoda panni podardhu daane. Mazhai le nenanju vandirkaan,"(Why don't you make him some pakodas? He's come dripping wet) Saroja said to her daughter-in-law. She, obviously, hadn't heard him. She had grown partly deaf over the years. But she missed nothing. At least the things she should certainly miss. Right now, all she was concerned was why Anu had not kept anything ready for her son who came drenched in the rain.

Anu always made onion pakodas when it rained. She had first made them for her father-in-law. He had liked them so much that he had forbade her mother-in-law from making any, going forward. He had wanted only Anu to make them. And only onion pakodas at that. Bakkoda as he used to call it, she recalled with a smile. It was 10 years since he had passed away, but she couldn't help but remember him every time she made pakodas. She knew her mother-in-law resented her for that compliment and her pakodas, though everyone else loved it. She never ate them. She did not even know how onions tasted, so she imagined these pakodas to be tasting horrible, and didn't have problems saying it directly in front of guests even. It was always a battle between her mother-in-law and her. Onion v/s cabbage. She would snidely point out to onion every time Anu bought a cabbage from the vegetable vendor. Sometimes, Anu wished Balu and her father-in-law had not liked her onion pakodas.

Saroja watched her son read the paper and thought, "how long does it take to make coffee, anyway?" It wasn't like the North Indian tea anyway. Just decoction and milk. Not even sugar for her diabetic son. "Yen ma, enakkum konjam kaapi thariya? Nenjellam kaanju pona maadri irukku. Inniki madhyana tookathu lendu seekram ezhindhinduten. Naa kai kaal alambindu varen, " she groaned to Anu loudly. (Can you give me some coffee too? My throat is parched. I woke up early from my afternoon nap. I will use the washroom and get back) Anu heard her. All the groans and sighs were for her son. All the complaints of lack of sleep was to make him ask her if everything was okay. Balu had, after all, never seemed to reciprocate his mother's love. Anu knew he loved her more than anyone else, but he was not the man to show it. Who would know it better than her? He always fought for his mother with her and their daughters though. This only seemed to make her mother-in-law very happy. Sometimes, Anu wondered if her mother-in-law had ever loved her. Had ever thought nice of her.

Suddenly, she felt ashamed to have thought this way. Pushing away her 'evil' thoughts, she thought of how Saroja had helped her with her delivery when her own mother fell ill. She even cooked everyday, albeit to follow her rigorous customs, but never complained. "I should be happy she takes care of the kids when I'm away and looks out for us," Anu thought. A thought stayed on. Would it have been different if Anu hadn't made those much-loved/hated onion pakodas?

Anu sighed, thinking of the latest convert to onion pakodas, her sister-in-law, Shanta who had asked for the recipe to make it this week for some guests. Anu made a mental note to ask her how it turned out. She hoped it was good. Otherwise, she knew Shanta wouldn't let her forget it easily. Just like her mother, she was all out to 'prove' things to Anu even after 27 years of knowing and interacting with Anu. Every time Shanta made something 'healthy,' she made sure to send it to Anu and point out that she should make it for her diabetic brother. She never sent anything for her mother though. Knowing her mother's strict eating habits, none of the daughters made an effort.

The doorbell rang. Worried the milk would boil over, she ran to open the door. She wasn't surprised at all.

"Hey, Mami! Amma asked me to give these pakodas to you," her nephew, Vinay said. Anu called out to her daughter to get a towel for him. Running back, she called him in, "Ulle vaa da. Indha mazhai le scooter liya vande? Coffee kuduchutu po." (Come inside. Did you come on the scooter in this rain? Drink some coffee and go)

She walked up to her mother-in-law, stood away from her being careful not to touch her, spoke loudly into her ears. "Vinay vandirkaan. Murukku pannele? Adha tharela? Naa Coffee podren." (Vinay has come. You made some Murukku, didn't you? Can you give some? I will make some coffee.)

Saroja was excited to see Vinay, her only grandson from among the brood of grand-daughters she seemed to have been cursed with. She ran into the store room to get the Murukku she had hidden for him and Balu. Vinay followed her and took the Murukku from her hands, handing over the steel dabba he had brought. "Epdi irukkel, Pati?" (How are you, Granny?)

Saroja didn't hear what he said but was happy that he had brought something for her. From Shanta, her daughter. She recognized the dabba. Anu had given these dabbas to all her sisters-in-law for Nombu. That extravagant girl!

She opened the dabba to see chunky pakodas. It had been years since she'd eaten one. Ever since Anu had started making those vile onion pakodas, actually. Which she made lots. Like her son's hard-earned money grows on trees. To be fair to Anu, she made cabbage ones for her alone. But she made them so crisp. Her daughter had lovingly sent her some pakodas that didn't seem crisp and hard. She sighed happily as she broke the second pakoda and threw it into her mouth. After such a long time. Pakodas, just like she used to make them. Chunky. Only, the cabbage in these pakodas tasted better than the ones Anu made. Even better than the ones she herself made.