A week long weekend was giving me enough tiredness from the time I got up this morning. Last week at the same time I was feeling very thrilled knowing I will combine two midweek holidays, a couple of work from homes and the weekend in-between to make it a week-long vacation. And now all those 9 days are done like in a few hours!
Thoughts went back to those cold railway rakes where I was sitting by window most of the night. While cursing my struggling to keep up eyelids, I was gazing at the night sky as if I can see the entire world. It took time for me to realize that I have my 4 years old daughter sitting next to me sharing the same feeling from her 1st train experience. Has she grew up so fast to share my feelings or I went back to be a kid – ready to play with her! We were creating new unknown games and playing until both of us gave way to sleep to overpower us.
When the beach sands tickled my barefoot guiding me to the gray waves, my eyes were still searching for those cut mango pickle in vinegar. My childhood favorite from Calicut beach. Without paying much attention to the staring petty shop vendor, I filled a paper cup with mango pickles. May be he wanted to say ‘dude its soaked in salt and you might trigger a high blood pressure’. While Sharing a small portion with others, I was rushing to eat the remaining mangoes faster before anyone else could grab more from my cup.
The thought of my daughter, jumping up crying ‘ants’ when she first stepped in to the sand dunes burying her little foot, probably pocking her soft tissues, brought the smile back to me.
Besides, the smell of fresh fish curry, the aroma and taste of fried mussels, naturally fermented sour curd…… who wants to come out of those heavenly feelings? I was gazing at my wife, relishing some of her all-time favorite cuisines. I could feel what she was missing in life cause of me bringing her here to this city.
But today, here I am, back, getting ready for office. Lazy as ever and wanting to go back to that cold train and cover myself in the black woolen blanket.
Suddenly a divine thought struck my mind. What else can I do so that I don’t have to go to work? The very thought has given me goose bumps. What a heaven that would be. What else can I do? Can I write? Hmmm, need to set up the stage. As a first step, told my wife during our breakfast time about my past life experience in writing poems and the district level achievements. Peeped in to her face through the corners of my eyes to see the reaction. As of now, all look positive. Now I need to leave a gap before the next attempt 😉
After the breakfast, later in the morning mentioned to her about my intention to write. Was thrilled to see the excitement on her face in contradiction to my expectation of a lukewarm response. She said, “Yes, write. Write about anything you like”. Curious now, asked her if she can suggest a topic. “Sure, why don’t you write about *Dharwad pedha?” The earth stood still for a second around me! I hated the moment last night our neighbor brought a packet of dharwad pedha as a Diwali gift.
Few minutes later while walking to catch my office cab I was murmuring to myself, “Mr. dharwad pedha, if you are ever alive…. I want you to know that I hate you. You just scrambled my dreams!”.
*Dharwad pedha is a sweet made from milk solids. The name comes from a place in the Indian state of Karnataka where it is made.