Parsley and Thyme

Pati, patni and woh

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He suddenly smiles at me from our balcony while I am casting loving glances at him. It has been a busy day and I am relaxing on the sofa for a few minutes, watching him from a distance. And I am engrossed – admiring the way his thick black mop of hair falls over his innocent dark eyes. I smile back, and he indicates to me that he is aware of my love for him, as well as of his own good looks. He goes back to his activity and I decide to read the newspaper.

Five minutes pass, and he is feeling my lack of attention. He gets up from his place on the balcony with an angry frown on his flawless face, walks over and gives me a hard whack on my thigh. I am startled, but not unnerved – this is usual, I think. Living with him over the years, I have learnt how to get him back into his best humour. I get up, give him a tight hug and ask him what he would like to have for dinner. That perhaps sounds assuaging – he gives me a wide grin and plants a kiss on my cheek, proving to me once again the truth in the age-old proverb that establishes the indelible connection between men and food. Now, c’mon…you know which one!

Though he shakes his head in refusal to the each one of the items on the victual medley that I suggest thereafter, I continue. Knowing that most items on our menu have to possess his seal of approval – a ritual that I have so willingly become accustomed to since the time I met and fell head-over-heel(less) in love with him. After turning down the ninth item on my menu for the evening (men can be so demanding and women so subservient), he finally agrees to settle down for his simple favorite – dosa, sambar and chutney. 

Well, that settles the dinner for the night, I say to myself and walk over to the kitchen to get it running. A few hours later, my husband walks in, back from office and heads over to the kitchen where I am still engaged. He looks over at the preparations for dinner and exclaims – “Oh, dosa ?”. I reply “Yeah, he wanted it tonight”. Dear hubby looks over at the young man who decides most of what we say, eat or do these days without a hint of jealousy. As I wait for his reaction, my husband says “I love you little Chikoo” and runs over to hug our oh-so-little son.

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Written by Kanchana

February 18, 2009 at 11:31 am

Posted in Chikoo

Tagged with ,

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