Despite Differences ...
It was one of those rare scenes.
The bed sheets were clean and smoothly spread over the bed. The pillows all neatly piled one upon another at a decent corner of the bed. The quilts all folded and placed below the pillows. Everything just the way she did. And it was not a dream.
Returning from the office, entering the room, she had almost screamed, “Who did the BED?”
“”Me” was the short answer from her all smiling husband, almost proud of what he had done, having returned from the office early that day.
She stood there or some time.
She was impressed.
And, then she remembered how they had fought just a couple of days back.
She had a fetish for vegetables, while he was one whom one would call as a pure ‘non-vegetarian’.
Right from the moment she woke up in the morning, she would start thinking what to cook for him in the night. It was not for her self that she thought. It was her husband that made her worried.
He just could never understand, what was there to so much worry about, that too from the morning itself? Is cooking something to worry about? And worry about his meals? That is ridiculous, he would mutter to himself. One simple fish curry, and an omelette of double eggs, is just more than suffice for him. So? What is the big deal about it?
She was always at the end of her wits of what to cook for him. It was getting difficult for her to manage the daily cooking routine. How could one possible eat all egg, fish or meat and complete his lunch? No starters like fried vegetable? Yaak!!! ‘Gosh… This man does not have any taste at all’.
He loved fish curry alright. But, he always found that either the fish is not well cooked or the cooking maid did not fry them well, so how could he possibly eat them? And she just would not understand this simple thing of his. And she treated him as if it was his fault. But, he could not help it, is not it?. And those eggs, he did not want them so much boiled. When cooked in a curry, eggs ought to be half boiled, and kept within the warm water for some time. ‘Nobody has taste ….. #%#$%#% (neither his wife nor the cooking maid)’, he would conclude with disgust.
She could not make him taste her green delicacies. She would get annoyed, and then angry, really angry. After all, why cannot he taste some? It’s not something inedible. Is not it that something that human beings don’t eat? And now, if she had to buy vegetables solely for herself, she had to buy more than required, just because the shop keepers won’t sell so less an amount. And then, she had to do all the eating by her self which she really hated [to eat something alone without sharing the joy of it].
His in laws were another nightmare for him. He remembered how his mother in law (read monster in law) had once asked him to eat cooked lotus stems. As if they were edible vegetables. Who has ever heard of it? Yaaak!!!!!!! He had managed somehow to escape that time, by passing onto the material to his wife’s plate. Gosh……… One should have seen how she loved to devour them.
It was not that she did not like eggs, or fish or meat. But for her they were for special occasions and a part of the meal but not the entire meal. And she really could not do without something green on her plate. As she ate her green preparations she always felt sorry for her poor husband who missed so many delicious delicacies.
He loved to prepare the omlette in an utmost suave manner. He would take two eggs, beat them vociferously, and then spread them on the fuming sauce pan, till they swelled and a delicious smell brewed. He really took a genuine pride in doing that. And most of all he loved to prepare one such masterpiece of his dear wife. ‘Well, can really such a magnificent omlette be compared to a lotus stem preparation? Naa ….’ he always grinned inside with pure satisfaction.
She was happy that day, when besides mutton, he had also brought her a green, round, young gourd. It was like a gift for her. That was so thoughtful of him, she had mused. Some times, in happy moments of cooking, she would tease him by saying, that he rooted from the rich Jamindars of kolkata and that she came from the poor villages of Bangladesh, and so their tastes had to differ and that it could not be helped, it was destiny. And they would laugh over it for a long time.
The bed sheets were clean and smoothly spread over the bed. The pillows all neatly piled one upon another at a decent corner of the bed. The quilts all folded and placed below the pillows. Everything just the way she did. And it was not a dream.
Returning from the office, entering the room, she had almost screamed, “Who did the BED?”
“”Me” was the short answer from her all smiling husband, almost proud of what he had done, having returned from the office early that day.
She stood there or some time.
She was impressed.
And, then she remembered how they had fought just a couple of days back.
She had a fetish for vegetables, while he was one whom one would call as a pure ‘non-vegetarian’.
Right from the moment she woke up in the morning, she would start thinking what to cook for him in the night. It was not for her self that she thought. It was her husband that made her worried.
He just could never understand, what was there to so much worry about, that too from the morning itself? Is cooking something to worry about? And worry about his meals? That is ridiculous, he would mutter to himself. One simple fish curry, and an omelette of double eggs, is just more than suffice for him. So? What is the big deal about it?
She was always at the end of her wits of what to cook for him. It was getting difficult for her to manage the daily cooking routine. How could one possible eat all egg, fish or meat and complete his lunch? No starters like fried vegetable? Yaak!!! ‘Gosh… This man does not have any taste at all’.
He loved fish curry alright. But, he always found that either the fish is not well cooked or the cooking maid did not fry them well, so how could he possibly eat them? And she just would not understand this simple thing of his. And she treated him as if it was his fault. But, he could not help it, is not it?. And those eggs, he did not want them so much boiled. When cooked in a curry, eggs ought to be half boiled, and kept within the warm water for some time. ‘Nobody has taste ….. #%#$%#% (neither his wife nor the cooking maid)’, he would conclude with disgust.
She could not make him taste her green delicacies. She would get annoyed, and then angry, really angry. After all, why cannot he taste some? It’s not something inedible. Is not it that something that human beings don’t eat? And now, if she had to buy vegetables solely for herself, she had to buy more than required, just because the shop keepers won’t sell so less an amount. And then, she had to do all the eating by her self which she really hated [to eat something alone without sharing the joy of it].
His in laws were another nightmare for him. He remembered how his mother in law (read monster in law) had once asked him to eat cooked lotus stems. As if they were edible vegetables. Who has ever heard of it? Yaaak!!!!!!! He had managed somehow to escape that time, by passing onto the material to his wife’s plate. Gosh……… One should have seen how she loved to devour them.
It was not that she did not like eggs, or fish or meat. But for her they were for special occasions and a part of the meal but not the entire meal. And she really could not do without something green on her plate. As she ate her green preparations she always felt sorry for her poor husband who missed so many delicious delicacies.
He loved to prepare the omlette in an utmost suave manner. He would take two eggs, beat them vociferously, and then spread them on the fuming sauce pan, till they swelled and a delicious smell brewed. He really took a genuine pride in doing that. And most of all he loved to prepare one such masterpiece of his dear wife. ‘Well, can really such a magnificent omlette be compared to a lotus stem preparation? Naa ….’ he always grinned inside with pure satisfaction.
She was happy that day, when besides mutton, he had also brought her a green, round, young gourd. It was like a gift for her. That was so thoughtful of him, she had mused. Some times, in happy moments of cooking, she would tease him by saying, that he rooted from the rich Jamindars of kolkata and that she came from the poor villages of Bangladesh, and so their tastes had to differ and that it could not be helped, it was destiny. And they would laugh over it for a long time.
--------------------------------------------------
She loved her husband, and at the depth of her heart, she knows that he too loves her a lot. It was not an easy relationship since they both had to go through many hardships, before being able to tie the knot. So, the knot was all the more dear for them. After all those hardships which they went through, they could not think of giving it away so easily.
And, despite all those differences in their likings of food, they would eat from the same plate, at the end of the day.
[It was only occasionally, when the issue would take a larger shape that they would eat from separate plates. :-)]
And, despite all those differences in their likings of food, they would eat from the same plate, at the end of the day.
[It was only occasionally, when the issue would take a larger shape that they would eat from separate plates. :-)]
