Bhajiya with granny in the rains
There’s something about heavy rains and the desire to have something fried and hot.
That’s the excuse I gave myself after I finished a plate of what we call alu bhajiyas here. Thin slices of potato, coated in besan and deep fried the hell out of.
I’d earlier gone to Parel today. A 45 min drive in pouring rain. I felt like having something hot & savoury, while the rain came down on our car.
Our cook, #bunkinbanu came to work in the evening. I requested her to make bhajiya.
PS Bhajiyas can be made with onion, cauliflower, chillies or even spinach, not just potato.
I took out a generous serving of the bhajiyas once she was done; piping hot and fresh from the pan, put them on one of the heirloom saucers that didu, my granny, had given me.
I munched on the bhajiyas while I stood by the window and chatted on the phone with didu. I described the joggers, dog walkers & the pav wala on the road below scrambling to take refuge from the rain. She asked me about ‘Bablu’ (her name for Baby Loaf) & Nimki. I told her that they go below the bed when it rains.
I told her that dinner tonight would be the coveted Bengali rainy day combo of khichuri & ilish bhaaja (Hilsa fried in mustard oil). The khichuri would be made with gobindo bhog rice & crowned with gawa ghee from Kolkata. While sitting in Mumbai.
She grew up near Dhaka at the turn of the previous century. You could apparently put your hands in the overflowing rivers & catch ilish in the rains. 90 years later, she lies largely in bed, imprisoned by a flailing body. She has no appetite. Ilish would be too expensive & her fridge too small to store it as it happened when I bought an ilish for her from the market a few years back. It’s hard to predict where life takes you as the years pass by.
And korola (karela/ bitter gourd) fry, I added. I plan to grill it in the oven, but that would be hard to explain.
‘Korola ki bhalo lagbe?’ She asked. It doesn’t taste good.
Hya, I reply, but what to do. Sometimes you need to swallow (eat) the bitter truth.
Do we need to do so, I wonder. Is there a fine line between being prudent & being repressed?
Should I stop fooling around here and go to the gym instead?
Ah, it’s raining. Phew!
