served with love…

MY KITCHEN MAY NOT ALWAYS SERVE TASTY, THE WORLD’S BEST FOOD BUT IT SURELY WILL BE SERVE WITH LOVE…

 

The first step and the first car is always important and near to heart, it is one of those moment you could define the wondering ointment on your purged surrounding and you find the way to assured roadways. There comes days in a woman’s life where she starts here new days with new environment around her, there is definitely an assure fact to kindle and harness the new ambience. So is the important the day for her when she is put in her test and that goes along the taste.

“Not just beautiful, we are searching an educated, fully well mannered, highly talented beautiful girl for our darling and dearest son”

When I heard this, I was wondering it was far better being a guy then girl now a days, then attracted an attention to me,

An eye contact and everything seemed all right till then, those two eye lashes met together in assurance “I am there, do not worry” I felt lucky to be a girl then, a girl made because he was a guy and now that we can enjoy our chemistry.

Nervous, afraid I burnt a lot of food than I had ever counting all my learning days of cooking, it was a high time and I had never cooked all alone, kitchen seemed me a ghost hunter place, I had no idea where they keep the salt and where is the sugar, I was afraid if I mix both of them because sugar was crushed to nano and so was the salt, why? Tell me why?

Dint they had teeth?

Well, someone send me the angel out of blue around the ground, well rescue operation started and misplaced values of my soft nurturing hands took a round trip.

My husband helped me cook and my brother in law helped me re arrange the kitchen, that day without anybody’s notice we melt those energy of sheers we gathered from lunch and breakfast in form of those sweat bubbles.

Unaware of any permitted taste and hindered logics I took my courage to fight my test ground. Grounding my little self I thought that it was time for my bag pack and return to pavilion.

“What is this?”

I looked puzzled because I had no idea what actually it is called, my husband is Punjabi and I am not, it took me hard to make her believe that it was my alone helpful behaviour, but I ended up saying.

“Something that pours love in every serve”

She did not seem to get impressed, unlike my reaction, she said “tell me what you do here, my specs are missing, how do you made this?”

God’s in play I was sure, I all held my breath and said “oh well, I did not make it”

Grinned my husband long there, staring and nodding at me, “Then who made it?” she fired her attention questionnaires

“We made it” I got restlessly unanswerable

“Means what?” her voice got rude

“I, you, him everybody here made it, one by one you all came there in kitchen and there came a reason to move along forward and I was enjoying the mess, once created and found the baby corns and wondered what these punjabi’s will find interesting in these Japanese version of makka, and then found few tomatoes and wished to crush them and find my anger there, I then found some pieces of legs of a fresh weed, I gave up and then found a way, I thought if I do not make food, will my family will be hungry today? I said no, no ways, I will cook for them I will cook for MY family, because my mother never let us sleep hungry, and now it was my time to put the motherly love here, I then took all those ingredients that came to me, and kept my every logical acceptance, I know it may sound cheating but Google really helped, it took 4 other like me to describe me how it sounds to cook a Punjabi khana, I do not know if it is mouth watering but I have already waters my patience in it and trying to get to the originality of resource, potato, tomato, capsicum, lots of butter and drop of olive oil, again butter, then curd, again the rice, then the flour, then the essence and then one after another every ingredient served in the plate came to a dancing floor, we talked, played and eventually put all our efforts and love for you, here….”

Silence…

“jindi reh, ab lagi na sadde ghar ki”

I am happy with those 5 Rs, essential as my gift, and I will keep till I meet my daughter in law to handle that kitchen where we still talk, play and serve love….

that 5 grew with millions with her grace and now we wish that every one on earth eat healthy and live longer…

 

thank you Indiblogger, Thank you Borosil

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