Tiffin Box

I noticed that I love eating the leftovers from my child's tiffin box. I almost always take a bite when I am putting the box for a wash. Today I realised why. I ate the plain 'Paratha' of last night with pickle and Viola! That is how it exactly tasted when I was a kid. I simply loved it. After having a full meal, I ate that one leftover paratha with the mango pickle with the masala eaten away. It was divine. My taste buds must have changed multiple times in all these years but this 'Paratha' had the right softness and the pickle tasted perfect with it, just like how my Mom and Chachi made it. All along, when I used to taste the leftovers from their tiffin box, I thought I was checking if the food tasted okay when cold or was it spoilt or did the child like it. Have been smiling like a child since I know the real reason behind it. The taste took me down the memory lane. We had no kitchen tissues in those days, we used newspapers to wrap or cover the food. One day, my tiffin was 'Khara Bhaat' i.e. Vegetable Pulao made in the Gujarati way. The paper on it was from an old notebook of mine and the blue ink ran over the yellow rice. I did not eat my tiffin that day but the memory of the handwritten notebook paper and the blue ink stained  yellow rice, remains fresh. Shop keepers or vegetable vendors did not have plastic bags. Everything was wrapped in a 'Thonga' made of brown paper or newspaper or old official documents . Suddenly, I am missing the 'Jhaal Muri' taste in the 'Thonga'. I am salivating for it. 'Jhaal Muri' and the stick 'Kulfi' were the treats we got for 25 paise. Gauri Bai would give us the pennies while cleaning her cupboard, which was always so organised. She would remember something and try to locate it in her cupboard between neatly stacked white sarees or in the pockets of her travel petticoats. 

Bai had these pockets stitched by Jagdish Bhai, our tailor/ Darji before her Teerth Yatra/ pilgrimage. The money was stitched in a cotton pouch and then put in this pocket with a running stitch. She had her travel 'Peti' or iron suitcase ready with clothes and toiletries for any sudden trips. She could leave the house at a moment's notice. I am just the opposite. I take long to pack, though I am getting better at it. I managed to take a two day holiday without missing any of the essentials of travel, except oil. I can't travel without basic oil in my bag which is used as a moisturiser or sunscreen or medicine. This time I gave it a skip. After a swim and Yoga at sunset, we went to our room to bathe and change for dinner. Since it was a pretty place, I decided to make myself look prettier. I do not know to apply makeup on self other than lipstick. I applied the Kajal pencil as an eye liner...a thick line on my lids. I was feeling very good about my achievement. The family did not notice the extra black lines on me. Leisurely dinner in the moonlight with our children's favourite Pasta with Arrabita sauce and Garlic Bread. I chanted my Hanuman Chalisa in the jungle. No, I was not scared but it was Hanuman ji 's birthday. Back in the room, I realised that I had forgotten my night suit. Luckily, I had a spare set of clothes for a rainy day. I literally carry clothes for a rainy day as during one holiday in Mahabaleshwar to enjoy the monsoons, we ran short of clothes  especially kids' clothes. Had to give so much for laundry at the hotel. The semi moist clothes came back and that was the best they could do in the Mahabaleshwar rains. Brushed my teeth and washed my face. The eye liner was in tact. I thought, I forgot to wash my eyes. Used some cotton which was there in the fancy stone box by the sink, but no good. The liner remained steadfast. Little did I realise when I applied the eye liner that it is water proof and it won't come out with water. No oil in my toilet kit. I tried spitting on the cotton ball and wiping my eyes with it. By now, I was panicking. I took the hotel towel and spat on it and rubbed my eyes. Little difference it made and now the eyes were hurting by being mauled by me, the spit filled cotton ball and the towel. I gave up. Brushed my teeth once again to remove the dirty taste of the eye liner from my mouth. Thankfully, the body was tired after the bi annual holiday swim and slept off. 

The only time, I get to swim is when we are on a holiday which is twice a year thanks to the school and work schedules. I have stopped going for a swim regularly and now I am really missing it. At the pool, the parents wanted their children to become ace swimmers in one day. Each Mom was barking instructions to her child about how to swim, kick and breathe. One genuinely concerned mother, was telling her child to bring perfection in all that she does. The child wanted to play in the water but was coerced to join the Aqua Aerobics class. There too, the Mom's instructions to her child were louder than the Coach's instructions. All her commands sounded like those WhatsApp forwards which certain kind of people send every morning. Children are children but the mothers and fathers are of all kinds. Some want to make their children perfect in everything on the holiday break and some who just think all that their child does is perfect. I have a problem with both the sets of parents. Parenting is an area very dear to me and I have strong views about it. I feel the responsibility of raising a child is huge as we are taking care of the new generation. Giving them love is the only way to nurture them. They know their path, they know their growth. We are just there to take care of the sapling. We are there to make the world a beautiful place for the future generations. 

Keep tasting the leftovers from the tiffin box. 

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