Sis in town

My younger sis (by just 2 years) is in town. She studies elsewhere in the US and had a grueling first semester in terms of health, studies and culture shock. This is her first time out of home and away from her very very similar groups of friends. She couldn't wait to come here and I couldn't wait to have her over, though we've always, always fought like cats and dogs. Soon after I got married, I realized we had the same value system though everything else about us is very different.

She loves shopping, clothes, dressing up, movies, hates books, loves Math and Science, determined, very very hardworking, hated English and Social Studies back in school, believes in studying 6 months ahead of an exam, almost always believed my parents were right, had immense patience with my rather orthodox granny. You get the picture, don't you? :) I'm not any of this.

She's been here for the last 3-4 days and I'm going mad. I'd forgotten what it is like to live with her. She shops for 3 hours for ONE jacket and rethinks her decision at the cash counter. She tries the newly bought skirt and top every time she goes into her room to get something. It could be to get her phone back into the drawing room. She is constantly eating. 24/7. My sis is not obese or fat or anything of that sort. In fact, she is way more conscious of looks and what not. But she can't stop munching. I realize maddeningly how she reaches for the next snack, leftover dal, leftover curry, just fruit almost every 20 mins. I'm not used to this. I've been away from home for over 5-6 years with short intervals at home. I've heard my youngest, the most impatient of us all complain about this sister of mine. How she is always shopping, how she is always complaining about how fat she is and continues to much, how she is forever parading in new clothes and asking people if it suits her body type, her skin type etc etc. I always laughed and had fun watching the drama from far away!

Now, when she does these things with me. I stare at her. Literally. I had no clue it'd be like this. She is always chatting with her friends, Skyping with someone else, knows what she wants, or at least thinks so, eats continuously, helps me but still rolls eyes at me, drives me mad with her lack of organization and planning, even madder when she laughs at jokes made about me by A. In fact, she is hilarious to watch.

When my youngest sis started high school and then college, I was away from home already. But there was a deep sense of fear about the various things she'd have to go through. The peer pressure, the disappointment with failure, confusion, fears - something I'd gone through. I, much to her irritation, counselled her every now and then - comb your hair, don't behave like this, do this and do that. Much like my mom did with me and how, I hate (d) it! I didn't want her to go through the bad things I did! I wanted her to have all the fun I had without the heartache. However, I've never thought this way with my younger one - the one who is here now.

Today, it struck me. She's gone out with her friends. Friends I don't know. Some friends who have a car and have taken her out. I resisted from calling her until 3 hours after she left. She was at the Aquarium. She mentioned that she was going to a restaurant. It is 8 PM and she hasn't come home yet. I called her again, and she mentioned she was at a mall and is eating out with her friends. I'm not worried about her, or paranoid like my mom was, about me, when I did exactly the same things!

But what is this I feel? I'm tense. Amma, I know how you feel now. And I can't stand her most of the time! I fight with her, to date. Then, why sit waiting for her? I'm getting old :| Really old, in the mind, even. Sigh.

Away We Go

This is where this draft ended. And I don't remember what my point really was. Like it isn't obvious to you guys :)

But the title of the post makes me think of other stuff corresponding to some other stuff I've been thinking about lately. Even before the last momentous thing that happened in my life (will update soon), during my long India trip, I ruminated a lot. What else would you do if you have nothing else to do? Think.

For all the tough times we have been going through, we've had a ton of fun. But what bogs us down, seemingly, every single instance of being upset is a sense of failure in achievement of a certain objective. Now, who sets the objectives, you may ask? We do. We set the bars for success, failure, relationship, love, about what we expect from others, what we imagine others expect from us and so many other complicated things. As I was struggling to sleep now ( Its 1.30AM) it just struck me. I thought about this movie, 'Away We Go' and thought that AB and I almost represent the protagonists in the movie. I'm being romantic in my observations again, but then why do I care? My blog, my romantic notions.

The protagonists in the movie are expecting a baby and want to give the best of the world they live in, to the baby. Once they receive a rude shock from the guy's parents about not being there when the baby will be born, they decide to move to other cities in search of like-minded friends. To figure out a healthy, wholesome, fun environment and great people around whom to bring up their kid. They move from Canada to NY to one of the South-west states and finally reach the girl's parents' house. The girl's parents are no more and she doesn't like talking about her life. But that is where she realizes what all she's missed all the years that she's tried to shut it all out. That is where they realize that what matters is not the people around them or others' ideas about the perfect world.

I reached this realization, however trivial it may sound to anyone, in India. Sitting in an AC room in Chennai, friendless and activity-less, I thought about my life. Why was I letting people measure me through what they thought was right? Why was I getting so paranoid about what was right? It hit me that truth was absolute, and no amount of thinking on my part or no person is going to change the truth about me. Or about anything in this world. Why am I rating myself or others, constantly?

Strangely enough, it relieved me of the heavy burden and I slept well that night after months of insomnia. What was even more strange was that some things began to work out. And for all the cribbing and whining and crying, I came out with something really profound that I know I haven't been able to write about here. Today, now, I'm at a stage where I'm not letting anyone, including myself or anything deter me from doing/saying/thinking what I want. Its a weird kind of freedom.

I usually don't remember movies for this long. This post brought me back at 1.45 AM when I have a raging fever to write again. I'm not sure you understand me. I'm not sure AB gets it yet. But I've got it and it feels good. And its relieving to be joking again, to be smiling openly again, to not keep thinking again. It feels good to let go. It feels good to be me again.

The Chaos Theory

*this post is nonsense and is a rant. Read at your own risk*

Hmm.. no, the title is no indication of any knowledge of Physics on my part. (Hey, this theory is in Physics no?) Anyway, am too bored and too above all this to check and write on this blog. Its not like this blog is read by the the common junta who swear by every word I write and agree or disagree passionately with me. Its not like people hold discussions on my blog and consider me the next new writer on the blogosphere. But then, its not like I aim to be that. This blog is a vent where I express what I want, without caring about my job prospects. Not that I see any. Anyway, if you've read this far, you might as well read on no? This is sheer nonsense, going forward, but humor me.

For the last 2 years, I've sat on this very brown couch which AB got on a sale :D and cribbed, whined, cheered Top Chef contestants, laughed at Project Runway, watched umpteen food shows, figured out how to cook most non vegetarian dishes though I'm probably never going to do it. Do you know that sea food is to be cooked fast and that a dash of lemon makes a ton of difference with sea food? Or that, before you whip cream, you should put the bowl and the beater in the fridge to cool it? ( Say you didn't, please. Thanks!) Apart from doing all this, I've also made friends in the blogosphere, people who I talk to everyday, people who are going to find this post redundant ( But then, they already read me and are forced to, as is the practice with the blog world :D) So, you must be thinking, wow, what a life - TV, books, Internet, good food, friends - what more does one want, really? I mean who'd want a job, who'd want NOT to sit at home staring at the 4 walls, who'd want any real friends anyway? Right?

When I got married 1.5 years ago, I made sure I married a guy who was not an H1. Meaning, my visa status allowed me to study and work ( My mom is tired of this line, but what the heck!) and I was pleased with the situation. I imagined myself all dressed up and going to work, leading the classic life of a busy woman with a job to handle, a man to clean up after (of course, its the other way round now) and a house to tend to. I thought of having a dog to keep me in company since I love dogs and not had one in ages now. I thought I was going to be that busy person who keeps in touch with friends, remembers their bdays, calls home every weekend, figures out other stuff to do apart from work. Basically, leads a full life with its usual complaints. Little did I know in my callow years ( ooh, I feel mature and wise) that all this was an illusion. No, I don't have a job, I'm not an efficient super career woman managing house, dog and man. I'm not in touch with a lot of my friends, hardly in touch with family and certainly doing anything apart from sitting on this couch. It sucks, yes and so keep the sympathy to yourself, thank you. I don't need any more of it.

However, in spite of all this - both of us are hunting for jobs. Well he is, while I claim to be without knowing what I need to do. Literally 2 years of doing nothing leaves you with this feeling of being incapable of doing anything right. Of course it doesn't help that sometimes the only thing you do - cooking also turns out to be a disaster. Or, when you clean the house, you make more of a mess than actually clean it up thanks to your clumsiness. I broke the closet door again and slipped and fell on the carpet. Yes, the carpet has stains of every single thing I've eaten over the year thanks to sneezing when I'm eating or just staring at things fall from my hand. I digressed again. Ya, like I said, hunting for jobs, praying everytime that this stupid recession ends and at the same time hoping the rents remain low (meaning market should not improve!), we plan our lives EVERY single day.

I realized this today. We baked a gooey Devil's Food Chocolate cake what with icing and all that jazz to take it for a dinner (one of the very few) we were invited to, tonite. It got cancelled. The cake remains in our fridge. So, I came to know of it just now and pinged AB to let him know that the cake is a waste. We were wondering what to do with it, and we ended up deciding that we will eat it and deliberate on our wonderful life together, celebrate the coming of the weekend, and plan. Plan our life together. Plan to get that perfect job, plan to get into Grad School (inspite of dismal GRE scores, if anyone's keeping track of me), plan to keep in touch with family and friends that I don't want to talk to because they are better off than me ( Yes, I'm like that. Judge me) and basically get the cake done with. We can't waste food you know? Especially not chocolate cake.

I've been reading Zenhabits lately and sometimes cursorily read it and say to myself, how easy it is for someone to just write this. Blah. But I guess it struck a chord somewhere. I've been paranoid over the last two years of how I'm turning old without a career, without financial independence ( frankly, this is all I asked for as a young girl, as a woman) which literally translates to having no control over my life. I know. I wasn't such a control freak when things were going good. I was an impulsive person who loved to dance in the rain, who loved doing random things. Now I think too much. How old am I? How am I going to earn money 10 years down the line? What am I going to tell my kids? That I sat on this couch and cried everyday? And each of these questions only make me cry further. The thought of home making all my life drives me nuts and leads to bouts of depression, crying, frustration, tantrums, impatience. You name it. Its not been easy. We've had visa issues, financial issues, plain personal frustration, peer pressures, family pressures, self applied pressure and what not. Every time I read something, or talk to someone who's been through a lot more - I tell myself to get rid of my frustrations and look ahead and just take things as they come. And I've not been successful. Never will I tell another person: this is just a phase. This too shall pass. Or, that, you know, its going to be okay. Because frankly, it is not okay. It is not okay to sit like this and cry. It is not okay to constantly think its okay. It is not okay for you to offer your sympathies in your comments because I don't want them. I will lash out. Be warned.

There I go again. I told you its not easy. Its not like I'm not going to cry ever. However, every time I cry, I will come back stronger. I'm no super human to not feel the pain. And I don't want to be one. I will cry, loudly, rant loudly and scream when I'm upset, but will that make me any less stronger. I guess not and you better not second guess it.

I'm going to take a step forward. Soon, I will be an H4 wife, the one thing I fought against ever since I understood what it meant. I fought for others who were going to be H4s and I turned out to be one. But this time, I'm determined to get off the couch. What the heck? I'm planning to give it away or sell it and buy a new bright red couch. I'm going to apply to those damn grad schools inspite of bad scores. Do I care? No, I really do not. I've never been the one to be swayed by marks and I will not be, even now. Will I do programming coz its the only thing that will get me a job? No. I'm doing Humanities. Go talk to someone else, all ye engineer worshippers. I'm tired of you all. I'm going to get out of this mess, do my thing and show the frikkin' world that takes me for granted. You know who you are. I don't intend to be the super efficient home maker like my mom or the super efficient career woman like I was. I'm not going to worry if my guests see a dirty carpet. I'm not going to worry if I'm clumsy -that's the way I am. Take it. I'm not going to worry if I turn 30 and I don't have a baby or a career as yet. I'm not going to worry what you say about me. I will do my thing.

And I will eat that chocolate cake without regret, only worrying about the future of the cake and take my life as it comes. I haven't felt this good before and I hope I continue to feel the same way. Devil's Food Cake, lead the way.

Of tiaras and kids...

Being brought up in a South Indian family helped me in every way possible, now that I think of it. There was 'adequate' pressure on academics, rules at home always, lack of an ostentatious lifestyle at all levels, a sense of discipline (if I may claim its stricter down South!) - some things I didn't quite appreciate as a young girl - especially the pressure on academics and the rules at home. I didn't care much about the lifestyle or the fact that my mom didn't think I needed my eyebrows done every 15 days until I graduated out of college and got a job!

Of course, things have changed. I see young kids, girls mostly dressing up more than ever before, becoming more and more conscious of how they look, how their parents look even sometimes. All these TV shows have spawned one precocious kid after the other. Kids sing and dance for movie songs. Strangely enough, my family was quite filmi - we were always playing Antakshari and my uncles sang Hindi movie lullabies when we had to be put to sleep or when we cried. But, we never, never danced and shook our hips the way the kids do nowadays. And such a statement, such an observation makes me feel quite old. And I'm not. Trust me ;)

I spend most of my time watching TV nowadays. Such is my lifestyle and I don't quite like it when I see certain shows. Like Toddlers and Tiara. I still haven't mustered the courage to see the show though. I catch the promos amidst my other fave show, 'What not to wear.' Ironic, huh? But then, 'What not to wear' teaches people to dress appropriately for their age and shows and tells women not to be obsessed with their body type but work on clothes to make their body type look most flattering. This is one of the premises of the show apart from the whole makeover thing which I must admit would increase the confidence of quite a few women. Including me, sometimes, I think. Especially in this country, where everyone looks impeccable, stylish, casual and sexy - all at the same time. It didn't help that being sexy is something, I've been socially conditioned, to be disgusted at :P

I'm constantly shocked and surprised and irritated by the amount of interest shown, the amount of importance given to looks/appearances/clothes in this country. I know things are changing in India too. However, here, even common people are involved and that hurts. When I see almost-broke women worrying more about how they are not ready for summer than worrying about healthy food or other important things. Toddlers and Tiaras takes this to a all new different level. Kids participate in beauty pageants. I hate how these kids ( as a person who is not a mom yet, I'm guessing they are around 4 years. Okay, make that 'I hope they are four!') dress up, wear make up ( eww..) and get spray tanned ( I researched on this and couldn't understand a thing!) They strut on pageant ramps apparently every weekend in all their finery. What triggered this post was a promo I saw just now. There is this kid who's tired of her mom asking her to put on make up and look her best all the time. Good, you'd think. But no, this girl is actually spoilt. She screams at her mom, rolls her eyes at her mom who is calling her and walks away. I can't believe this. I did this when I was 16. And it was because my parents thought I should do Science during my Graduation than join the Arts courses. Or was I stupid? Didn't you guys fight for things like this? Or, did you guys too ask for make up when you should've been figuring out how mud tastes?

On this show, I think its more about the parents from what I've read about it. Every parent thinks their kid is cute, every parent wants their child to win the pageant. I remember my mom always siding some other kid and teaching me a lesson to be tolerant and showing her impartial self. I wonder what happened to all that. Really. On this show, the mothers get 'bitchy' about the other kids. Yes, 'bitchy.' You read it right. They are 4 year olds, for God's sake! So what next? Do we want breast implants even before their breasts start developing? What about their teeth? Do they fall at all, like regular kids' does, or, do they have some sorta surgery to stop that?

I'd really love to know what becomes of these kids? Do they get back to 'normal' life after they win or lose a pageant? What happens to them when they lose? Do they feel as bad as I did when I flunked Math? Or, maybe it is worse. Imagine your whole life hinging on how you look, and what you wear. What happens if they can't earn in the future to keep up with their looks/appearances? Then, will they succumb to the all American pastime of eating fries and burgers and shakes to ward off depression after losing all the glamour?

To all the mothers, especially those who chronicle every step of their kids, what do you do when you kid evinces interest in something so superficial as good looks? Grooming oneself, and looking good to remain confident is one thing. And being obsessed with make up is another. It is a thin line in this case.

In-lawed!

Since I'm obsessive about lists, I'm doing an online list of 'things to do' before my in laws arrive tonite.

- Kitchen cleaned? - Check
- Cleaned for the nth time? - Check
- Pantry cleaned? - Check
- Carpet vacuumed for the 5th time? - Check
- Beds made? - check
- New bed spread? - Check
- All traces of eggs removed? - Check
- Finish eating the bread made with eggs? - Check
- The non existent patio clean? - Check
- Laundry done? - Check
- Stuff that makes sure they won't have grandchildren for sometime hidden? - Check
- Easily available hair clips and bands so that I don't have to let my hair loose? - Check
- Bindis in abundance strewn around to show I 'do' use them? - Check
- Look for stuff to wear around the neck and the Diamond earrings for the ear? - Check
-Engagement ring on the finger, and the right finger at that? - Check
- Toe rings on toes - tie with thread to make it tight since my toes have lost weight pushing things off the couch/bed? - Check
- A batch of Idli maavu(batter) in the fridge to prove that I make healthy Desi breakfasts everyday - FAIL - the Idli maavu created red Idlis ( I dunno what to do!)
- All health files hidden? - Check
- Reining in excited husband? -FAIL
- Buy more flowers and random stuff to make the house look like home after 1.5 years of moving in? - Check
- Light the lamp? - Check
- Bangle on one hand - the thinnest one, preferably? - Check
- A watch on the other hand ( so that there is no need for a second bangle, and that I seem to be aware of time and age to be more responsible and more importantly to get up earlier than 10 AM for the next one month)? - Check

*am doing this as I sit on the couch ordering AB around for the above things to get done. So much tension over nothing. sigh.*

Yes. The in-laws will be here in precisely 6 hours. And I cannot sit on the couch anymore and offer precious advice and counselling to all your problems and cannot comment on your love lives for one month. So wonly one request: Don't have fun without me ;)

Hmm...

There are some small things that bother me on and off. But lazy as I am, I don't have much to say about them except for a few comments. Except that it not all times due to laziness, but also because too many people have been talking about it.

1. Rihanna/Chris Brown - I do not know what happened between them and no one is really clear about it. Has she come out with a statement? I'm not sure. However, on FB, I saw an icon for 'Throw Rihanna at your friend' in the Hug Me Application. Frankly, that appalls me. Considering the number of people, the kind of people, the kids and the youth using FB, this is a bad move by the developers of that application and I do think FB should take responsibility for this application.

Domestic abuse is not a joke and certainly cannot be a game or be mocked at. What does FB mean when it says 'throw a Rihanna?' Does it mean treat your friend like Chris Brown treated Rihanna? Or does it mean something very American pop-culturish that my Desi mind doesn't seem to grasp?

Personally, I don't like it. I don't like the fact that something like Domestic Abuse has been trivialized this way.

2. Obama: I admit I'm a huge fan of Barack Obama. And I'm not ashamed to admit it. While I may not agree with everything he says or does, I do understand that he is a human being like any of us and cannot live the ideal lives for all of us. Let alone his life. He cannot adopt a shelter dog just because some of us feel for that issue. I do feel shelter dogs need to be adopted more vigorously than pedigree pups, but in this particular case, I support the Obama family in prioritising their daughters' allergies over an image of the President that the country'd like to see. If you voted for Obama because he 'promised' to adopt a shelter dog, then, I'm sorry, your priorities are all wrong in this time and age.

At the same time, I've read umpteen blogs and umpteen Editorials about the failure of the current Govt. I'm no fan of America and its policies as is evident from this blog. But I do think that this Govt needs time. We need to let them do their thing before judging them. Stop judging them just because they are politicians. I personally believe politics is not a dirty job. Some people in it make the profession dirty, and that's about it. Again, am not saying Obama is the best person to handle anything and everything thrown at the US at this point in time, but then, we've voted for him since he was the best choice then, and more importantly, while we do constructively criticize his policies, we should remember that he is still new to the job. All of us know how bureaucrats work. All of us know how a new leader is always in trouble managing a team with old ideas used to old ways. Remember the last time you took over a project from a colleague?

3. Our prejudices: Recently, several states in the US reconsidered their stand on same-sex marriages. I'm quite happy about it. I do have a lot of friends who are homosexuals and respect them for taking a stand in an absolutely unsupportive society as ours. I'm no saint who is not prejudiced. However, something recently made me think.

http://twitpic.com/2hpih/full
The headline reads: Mickey Rourke asks ex-Russian boxer to marry him.

A friend tweeted this and spoke about how he was surprised to find that he was prejudiced. He thought that Rourke was gay.

However, I thought of something else different altogether. Can't a woman be a boxer? Is that why he thought that the boxer was considered male, and so Rourke considered gay?

I know I will be labelled a feminist for thinking this way. But hey, I certainly didn't think beyond the fact that Rourke was getting married to someone. Is it because I'm a woman that I thought that way? Or, what is it?

Sorry I had to just vent it out. I know this is not a great post or anything, but just some things that made me go : hmm...

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.