Just when my Ma decided to let me have my way in the kitchen and my dad chose to wait in eagerness for my pie instead of submitting to his worst fears, which primarily involves physical damage to myself, I cooked up my first ever kitchen disaster.
I was doing just fine. 15 minutes into the baking, it looked great. The smell, the aroma, filled my senses. Only thing, it looked a little dull, wheatish, not the perfect golden brown you see on TV or magazines. So I put it back into the oven. By the time I got the color right we had to hammer our way into the pie. **** the food designers. Me the photographer should have known better.
But then, Team India came to my rescue. Sachin went on to score yet another hundred and we looked good to reach 350. Easy match! Just then Sachin fell and the rest came tumbling after. 9 wickets in 29 runs! Now that’s a master act. South Africa won and by the end of the day no one remembered by pie.
Oh! I have to tell you this. While my mother was helping me with the pie she started singing “Sheila ki Jawani”. She returned my cold stares with a beaming smile as I made a futile attempt to make her stop. She did, but to my horror, soon started on “Munni badnam hui”. And I surrendered.
Well, I guess nothing is as easy as a pie… least of all instilling corrective behavior in your mother. But got to admit, they are always embarrassingly sweet.