Tracing My Mother's Footsteps

My school bus would be climbing the flyover, 10 minutes away from home. But already my nostrils would be ready to grasp the aroma of what my mother was cooking.

"Is it ribbon pakoda today?"

"Is it Mysore Pak?"

"Mixture?"

The guessing game added to the excitement of reaching home.





It was hard to go wrong, but for the 10, 11, 12, 13 year old, that logic was elusive. My mother was bound to keep one of these snacks or savoury ready to welcome me home.

I remember my brother would stand next to her, wanting to help her, interested in
what went in. I would wait with a plate, to gobble what came out. "Enough! Leave some for others!" would fall on deaf ears.

Even when I was 15 and 16, if there was no savoury to snack on when I returned from school, I would grab money to gorge on street food. No healthy tiffin for me... So she would make more to keep me hooked.

My friends would walk in asking, "Aunty, what is there?" The question was mere formality. They knew where she kept the goodies and they just went for it.

In recent times, whenever I take my children to my mother's house from school, my younger one especially would play this guessing game. Just as we neared a turned still a couple of kilometers from home, he would guess, "I think patti is making poori today!" "Do you think it is Maggi?" he will ask his elder sister. "What sweet?"

And the moment they enter home, they will head for the shelf where the goodies are most likely to be kept. But they are not the veterans I am. So I know how my mother hides them and I will secretly gobble while admonishing them for their junk food obsession. Now they have become wiser too.

I often recollect those teenage years, the flyover, the aroma and the guessing game and my friends. All I was giving my children were store-bought snacks of doubtful health impact all because I was hesitant to try cooking. What will they remember me for? For making them do the chores? Driving them around for classes? For reading a book when they were talking to me? Of me with my laptop?

Apart from a few interesting dishes that have become par for the course, my experiments with cooking were zilch. Even on special occasions, just a payasam (kheer); not the dishes traditionally associated with it. When inviting guests, maneuvering the menu to make it different and exciting, but nothing meal-stopping.

With a little encouragement from my online friends (yes, social media tempted me to try new things), I decided to try. I was surprised at how easy it was! And how exciting not only for the children, but for me too! I still am apprehensive and never sure of how a dish will turn out. For that, I have to thank my sweet darlings - husband included - for putting up with the experiments; not questioning the dish I want to try; or how it turns out; accepting whatever name I give it...

No, as of now their friends do not know what I make and I hardly make enough to share... But at least, I have moved from total paralysis to making a little, for after school snacks, for mid-morning indulgence, for late evening snacking... And a little bit extra to share with one neighbour once in a while.

Sometimes, as I stand remembering her stance and imitating it unconsciously, I feel I still have hope of becoming my mother's daughter.