Chaklis

"The problem with old people is that they don't want to accept that age is catching upto them. Nobody's asking them to prove anything. So why should they torture themselves and others with all this?", I told my mother as I stood frying "chaklis" in front of the fire, in a slightly exaggerated british accent so that my 78 year old grandmother doesn't pick up my words. All I got in return was a stern look and a signal to shut up and continue frying.

Firstly, let me explain the procedure involved in preparing chaklis.. First the rice should be dry fried, then laid out to cool down, then it has to be ground into one particular smoothness and the flour has to be mixed into a dough. The dough should then be laid in the form of a chakli which should then be fried and frying is not as easy as it sounds.

Anyway, I had run around the past day getting the rice ground and making the dough soft by repeated beating. And finally, swallowing my growing frustration, I agreed to fry and the chaklis actually came out very well.

A few days after this episode, I was relaxing at home watching an awesome episode of Boston Legal when I get a call from my grandmother asking me to go with her to the mill to get more rice ground. I became angry, very angry. I mean, hadnt I stood in front of the hot oil for almost 4 hours just a few days back?

After shouting at my mother for half an hour, I did take her to the mill and then dropped her off at her place. The sight of her shrunken frame and wobbly gait now irritated me a little. I am still confused whether my irritation was aimed at her actually working too much or her dragging me away from my sitcom. I hadnt spoken a single word to her all along. To initiate some conversation, I told her "Why did you fry more rice? Didnt we just make these chaklis a few days back?". Her reply completely humbled me.

She said "I heard you say that you like the khara chaklis more than the tasteless ones we made that day. These are for you", and started preparing the dough.

In the days when we can get almost anything by throwing money across the counter, moments like these show us how sensitive and caring our folks can be. She need not have made those extra ones for me. She did anyway. My anger ebbed away.

I walked into the kitchen, picked up the wooden piece that was used to fry chaklis, stood in front of the fire and said "Where's the oil? I'll help you".

Ciao.
Today is Star Wars day.. May the force be with you.

P.S. I came to a dreadful realization, a few hours after coming home that night. I had told my mother about my preference of khara chaklis in the same exaggerated British accent. I completely forgot my Grandma is as literate as you or me :P