Madhavi

Recently, one of my acquaintances expressed gratitude to her eight year old son for teaching her how to love truly. I was immensely impressed by her gesture because I have not seen many mothers acknowledge that fact. It is true that people younger than us sometimes teach us a lot about life. It is also true that some younger people are just spoilt brats who do not deserve any attention but this post is not about that vain category. 

Speaking of younger people, I am reminded of my stay in Hyderabad as a fresher out of college, comfortably earning and relatively independent, no-care-in-the-world kind of life. I used to share a house with a friend. My cousin sister lived close by and she advised us to hire a maid to do all the cleaning and washing. Since we liked the idea, she talked to a girl herself and it was agreed that she would come everyday before we left for work. The girl's name was Madhavi.

What struck me the most about Madhavi was her punctuality. Rain, sun, cold, illness would not matter. Our doorbell would always ring at 7 in the morning. While my friend and I used to struggle to get up early, cook some meagre breakfast and barely be able to catch an 'air conditioned' company bus to work, Madhavi would get up as early as 4, fetch water for her home, help her mother cook food, work in a neighbouring house and come to our place at 7. After leaving our house, she would go to a couple of other places before lunch. One would think she would probably "lie down and read a book" in the afternoon to rest but no, Madhavi went for stitching classes. Her idea was to learn to stitch blouses for women to supplement her family income. At this juncture, it becomes imperative to mention her age. She was barely 17 years old.

Madhavi's father, as she told us, was a daily wages laborer. Madhavi and her mother worked as domestic helpers. Her elder sister was married to a good-for-nothing moron who always demanded money from Madhavi's parents and gave them unwanted grand children to take care of, in return. Her younger sister was an illusive girl who refused to study or work and preferred to laze around and day dream or fight.  If Madhavi did not work, the family would not be able to make its ends meet.

In spite of her circumstances, Madhavi stood as the epitome of integrity, punctuality, honesty and sacrifice. She understood people, situations, where to draw a line, where to keep quiet, everything. Her forbearance never ceased to amaze me. Many a time, she put me to shame because I was much older than her and still fretted over minor discomforts.

When it was time for me to leave Hyderabad and Madhavi, I told her that I would always pray that she does not end up with another useless drunkard who would do nothing but kill her from within. Even to that, she replied philosophically - "It is difficult to get a good man in my community. I am prepared for anything. But I will have only one child, even if I get beaten and killed. I will bring my child up well". 

I have no idea where she is now. I do not know if I should have kept track but it did not happen in the natural sequence of events. However, Madhavi would always be one youngster whom I would admire and thank for the rest of my life. She silently taught me many things and I am still learning them.

Paneer + peanut gravy + Andhra tadka

Well, if you think this is some sort of a recipe, you will be disappointed and not at the same time. Paneer is Indian cottage cheese, popular solely in North India, Andhra (short for Andhra Pradesh) is a state in southern India while Tadka is an Indian word for seasoning.

It all started on a pretty hot evening. My room mate 'S' (not to be confused with the S in my previous post. In fact, all my current room mates are S's) announced we were going to have some Paneer dish for dinner and set about preparing it. I for one, hate Paneer. The chewy feeling that it gives totally puts me off. I can tolerate it only if its in some Paratha (Indian bread). So seeing a chunk of Paneer lying on the counter ready to be sliced was enough to get me skeptical about dinner. But S, lets call her Ms.Chef, seemed resolute. 

Now, Ms.Chef is crazy about peanuts and started roasting them vigorously with red chillies. As if Paneer was not enough, she next announced that its going to be peanut gravy. WHAT?!? Really? Did the other S (I'll call her Ms.Energy because I have not seen anyone more enthusiastic about life than she is) who was washing vessels allow both her jaw and a vessel to drop? I would never know because my senses stopped functioning for a while. I was aghast. Ms.Chef was of course nonchalant and said "Aye baavuntundiiiiiiii" (the way she drags every final syllable in Telugu words) - meaning "hey, it would be good". 

The third S in our house happened to pass by and was equally mortified at the thought of the ultimate paneer peanut combination. In an attempt to address the impending doom, she suggested meekly.. "Er.. would it not be better if you just cooked it the usual North Indian way.. in tomato gravy?"... For a moment we thought Ms.Chef would give in. She considered things for a few seconds and announced again - "Ok. lets add tomatoes to the peanuts". DEAD !!!

Well, the peanut, red chillies, onion, tomato gravy was made, Ms.chef kept smiling (should I say wickedly?) at us while we tried every theory to prove that the whole thing is going to make us puke and die (forgive the hyperbole). To what avail? The "Aye baagane untundiiiiiiiii. Meeku teleeduuu"  (Hey, its going to be ok, you guys dont know) song continued and ended with Ms.Chef doing the unthinkable. She seasoned this dish with South Indian Tadka (Mustard, cumin, pulses). Now any self respecting Indian would admit that this is a strictly unholy combination.  If paneer+peanut can make one die, this tadka combination would force the dead to turn in their graves. But it seemed Ms.Chef would not rest until we "rest"ed for ever. END OF STORY !!!

Epilogue: The dish turned out to be life-giving and not life-taking. In other words, super yummy - "pure unpolluted awesomeness". We ate it for two days, licking our fingers and drooling for more (very much like dogs). In fact, anybody who reads this post and can guess who Ms.Chef is in real life and also knows her personally, should beg/request/demand/command her to cook the same for him/her. I do not know if its the peanuts or the tadka or the paneer or the chef's skillful hand or "love" (if you will :P) or all, but Paneer +Peanut gravy +Andhra tadka is one of the best Paneer dishes I ever had with Rotis (Indian bread). 

* bows solemnly to Ms.Chef*

Pay it forward

I know I left my previous post incomplete and hence forever in the "to be continued" state. I somehow did not feel like writing more because the experience was so disheartening. What should have been simple and in fact my right as a good tax paying citizen became traumatic and cumbersome. The passport office was just one example of what we have learnt to endure over the years. Sometimes when I look around, I begin to think if the world is all a bad place where mistrust, selfishness and envy rule the roost. But almost immediately I know I am wrong. If the world was indeed such a dismal place, it would have ended long ago. There is still a lot of goodness (albeit hidden) and I remember one such instance that comes to mind.

S is my very dear friend. I do not clearly remember how our friendship started. It must be one of those days in office where you go about looking for people to have lunch with. S came across as a confident, charming, very outspoken person. Anyway, coming to the point, S had a friend P who was in a not-so-rosy situation then - he was broke and getting married. P desperately needed help in making his house a home for his bride. Needless to say, S actively took part in the whole process. She was looking to give him something that he would not have otherwise been able to afford - something that is necessary for his home (dining table, TV etc.). This kind of amazed me because what she proposed to give him was actually pretty expensive. I might think twice before I got MYself those things, leave alone gifting a friend. When I asked S how, in THIS world where people do not even share their salt with others, she could so easily choose to part with tens of thousands of rupees for a friend, not as a mere loan but as a generous gift. Her reply is the essence of this post.

"When I was in college and had very little pocket money, one of my friends used to pay for my many meals. I was uncomfortable after a point and told her to please not do that anymore. Then she told me in case I felt guilty or obliged, I could help another friend in need, exactly how she helped me in my times of need. So I help P today and probably tomorrow, he will remember this and help some of his own friends."

I recently reminded S of this story and she was puzzled that I remember it even now. It might be a normal episode for her but it had a deep impact on me - it is because some people still have these selfless values that our world is still inhabitable, else we would have all killed each other long ago and that would have been all.