Raju Ganapathy

Drama

4.8  

Raju Ganapathy

Drama

A Storm That Passed By

A Storm That Passed By

6 mins
543


The breakfast menu was ready

1. Upma

2. Rava Idli with vegetable curry

3. Poha

4. Appam and stew

5. Aluparatha

6. Pav Bhaji

7. Idli/Dosa with Sambhar and chutni

8. Adai with molgaipodi.

9. Pancake

10. Chana/Puffed rice.

11. Pongal with ghotsu

12. Puttu with banana or black chana

13. Tepla with eggs

14. Bread and Eggs

This wasn’t for a food joint. But he had prepared the list together with his wife so that breakfast decisions became a tad easier to make. Daily life about what was for breakfast, what was for lunch, pandering to their daughter’s taste buds and now his mother who was living with him had become a challenge of late. The list reflected an influence of different cuisine arising from their own background: him a tambram, she a mallu Christian and their life had taken them to different places in the country. For example, the chana with puffed rice was served to them in Bastar (now Chattisgarh) in the home run by Ramakrishna Mission while on a field work. They liked it and it had now become a hit even in his sister-in-law’s family.

Their regular meals were even more diversified what with an occasional Chinese and a pasta thrown in the routine. It ranged from the Bengal’s macher jol, to the Kerala red fish curry, to the tambram’s button onion sambhar cooked with roasted and ground coconut juice and potato boiled roast combo. Not to mention the seasonal mutter kadi and baigan bharta from the North.

One had to live the daily life with zest exhorted a philosopher and he diligently followed. The morning began with a cup of the aromatic south Indian filter coffee, cutting vegetables for the breakfast so that as and when his wife woke up could get into the breakfast immediately. His daughter woke up leisurely at about 730 am and as a result the morning rush was absent. Then he would go for a jog followed by yoga, newspaper reading, solving the crossword, back to shopping for milk, fruit and other provisions at a nearby mart. He had taken to write journal as a part of coping with life when we underwent some work-related stress in his last two years. When 2019 began he had taken a call not to look for work. Having worked in the development sector all through their career, both he and his wife were living a life of modest needs and wants. As a result, there was decent savings on whose interest their life proceeded.

His journal writing habit got turned into short story writing of late and he was publishing in one of the writing platform, in a portal meant for authors such as him. He wrote typical stories from daily life such as this one.

They both loved their daughter who was in her first year of work. A hard 12-hour schedule awaited their daughter each day and Saturday were off once in 3-weeks only. Tired was the word their daughter often expressed. They supported her to the best of their ability. Breakfast would be served on time from the list in a rotation. Lunch would be packed. In between snacks consisting of either a fruit or peanut chikki would also be packed off lovingly by him. On days when her health had taken a beating, he would pick her up from the nearby metro station when she returned home late in the evening. It was a brave decision on his part considering that evening traffic in this metro city was at its worst. A distance of 4 km would sometime take even 45 minutes. Her clothes would be washed by her mother in the machine, her father would iron the clothes and the mother would put the wardrobe in order as and when it becomes a mess, which is at-least once a week. Her mother had her own set of health issues but bravely went about her daily life as well. In the evenings when she returned home, she would share the meal sometimes with both her parents or more usually with her mother. Then they would discuss how her work day went and which client did what.

For a grown-up girl born in this millennium there are certain inconveniences in living with her parents. The rule was she returns home no later than 10 pm. Saturday night parties were completely discouraged. It was a clash of generational attitudes and perspective. But the benefits as described were all there and she didn’t have to contribute anything except paying for the broad band services installed at their home.

Somehow a storm was brewing in their easy paced life.

When her parents had relocated to another small city in the eastern India in the previous year, she and her friend had lived in their flat. What with their routine and laziness their breakfast was mostly bread and eggs and many a times their meals were ordered using numerous apps catering to their taste? She had become addicted to junk foods with high fat, salts and calories. She missed that kind of food to which her parents were dead against.

That day was her mother’s birthday. Her dad had planned out something and ordered a cake, bought some juices from the mart. The morning had started with the delicious paneer parathas, followed for lunch by local special busibelebath and chips and some coconut holiges as well. Her grand mom who was living with them since a month already reported a tummy upset as the meals were fairly heavy for an old age person. Although she was not feeling well herself due to the previous day office picnic and hectic activities at the resort, she broached the subject of eating out for dinner and her father had shot down the idea saying grand-mom would only eat a dosa outside and just for that going out was unnecessary. She got irked in a jiffy and walked out of the conversation and took refuge in her room as she always did. She did not respond to her mom inquiring about her feverishness either.

Since then her body language and her attitude towards her parents had become offensive leading to daily verbal warfare. Her dad had angrily suggested she look out for a paying guest accommodation so that she can lead her own life unfettered by them. Her mother argued with him stating that rather than correcting her defiant behavior why was he suggesting the PG option? He had retorted that maybe she needs to learn what life is all about in a hard way and felt no harm in her seeking the PG option.

That morning she had walked out without saying her customary bye to her parents. He took to writing and felt at ease as he ended this story. The anger had subsided. In the evening he had messaged that she need not look out for a PG accommodation but show some pleasantness in her interaction with parents. When she returned home that evening, she said her customary hi and had dinner. The day had come to a close, the storm passed off without incident.


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