Did I mention that I dont have a cook and a maid? I did? Did I repeat it ad infinitum, ad nauseam so that you absolutely totally and completely grabbed the horrific implications of the same. Let me complicate matters by expolating on the topic. We are a household of five adults and one child. Of the five adults, two are chauvinistic men types who do not do housework as it is below their dignity and they have been raised to be the men of the house who donot do any housework. Of the remaining three adults, one is the mater in law, who does do a fair deal but given that this is Navratri, has been tied up with Mata ki Chowkis every single day. Therefore. I have been primarily designated cook on the premises. Reconcile this fact with the fact that I hate cooking with a passion lesser mortals reserve for tasks like taking out the garbage and cleaning the washrooms. I would take out garbage and clean washrooms rather than cook. Therefore it was with much reluctance that I took on the mantle. Add to this was the fact that I was also doing the navratri fast for all the eight days. Which made me hungrier than usual and therefore not at my optimum level of concentration as required for cooking, given that I am, on an average day, quite capable of adding salt into an innocent dal twice, making it lethal at first taste. And then compound this situation by me being at ferocious starvation levels by evening and needing to eat my cooking. (Now you know the true secret of the 3 kilos weightloss in a single month!!).
Naturally, I have been in a mood so foul that the husband prefers to bury himself into eminently boring books on day trading rather than risk a knife being flung at him if he gets me at a wrong moment. The child has also learnt to tip toe around me and eat his meals silently, without fuss if he needs to survive.
We have our society navratri function tomorrow. The evening will see a Mata Ki Chowki, followed by dandiya and dinner. It is strange how I, a totally non religious, non ritualistic person have gotten suckered into keeping the navratri fasts by the husband, who does keep them every year, and appealed to my vanity by claiming (rightly so in retrospect) that it would help me knock off them kilos quickly. And he threw in some baloney about willpower etc, which I felt compelled to disprove, given that he did so with a sardonic comment about my lack of, and such like. Therefore the fasting. Therefore the hallucinations about Chicken Tandooris laid out end to end down an entire road just begging to be eaten in one sitting. Therefore controlling the irresistable urge to run to the fridge and fry meself an egg just to get animal protein into the system. But I am delighted to say I have stood firm. I have resisted all temptation. I have shunned all edible animals with a firmness that doesnt augur well for my cellulite. I so deserve a new bag and shoes for my efforts. LV monogram canvas Alma, here come to mamma. And I have planned out my next week with back to back buffet lunches to make up for my eight days of torture and deprivation. I cannot bear to eat more of my own cooking. Maybe I should open a restaurant for weight watchers and hire myself as chief chef. Food so terrible that you would rather stay hungry. Now that’s a plan!