Wednesday 2 July 2008

Rohit.....

He’s standing in the kitchen with a big fat dollop of butter on his spoon…ready to mouth it, when I scream – “ROHIT, STOP.” He’s suddenly very lost.
“What?”
“You can’t eat butter like that.”
Now he wears an expression of deep hurt and looks well and truly offended.
“But this is olive butter. It’s supposed to be healthy!” He says, pure exasperation on my foolhardiness now evident in his voice.
“Its still butter. You CAN’T eat it like that.”
A few fleeting moments of eye contact and then…..he gobbles what’s on the spoon, and runs…………..with me shrieking after him trying to retrieve the box.

That’s Rohit. My life partner, soulmate, bedrock…

Yeah, So Rohit is a food buff……when we moved to the UK, we were both freshly out of medical college, just starting work. In other words neither of us had a clue as to how to go about setting up home. Plus, as far as food was concerned, we got by mostly on microwave stuff from the supermarket, neither of us having the time or energy left after a busy on call shift, to cook.

I’ve got to say, my other half happens to be extremely talented where public relations is concerned. So, within no time of moving into a new flat, Rohit had gathered all the strategic information.

“The couple across the passage are marwaris”, he said one day, looking positively ecstatic as if their being marwari had just opened the gateways of heaven for us.
“The wife doesn’t work which means she’s got plenty of time.”
“Yeah, so what?” – I still didn’t get it. Anyway, he set about…

Couple of days later, I returned from work, to find bhabhiji teaching Rohit how to cook.
“Rohit’s told me everything,” she said – “how you people haven’t had a proper meal for ages. And you burnt the daal y’day”. She said to me with the utmost sympathy, with a look of pure pity in her eyes.
Now this wasn’t strictly true, but I decided it was best to keep mum. Believe me, it was worth the humiliation of being the object of pity. Because then, the food began to arrive- she’d send me gulab jamuns one day and kachoris the next. Bhabhiji firmy believed she was rescuing two poor souls from near starvation as we were totally incapable of taking care of ourselves. She’d taken us under her wings. Life was sweet.

Manisha...

Manisha and Taral have been good friends for long. I still remember that first meeting at mutual friends. I was sitting talking to someone when suddenly, all conversation ceased and all I could hear was female tones in rapid marathi, almost 50 decibles higher than anyone else in the room. As to what she was saying, only a couple of people in the room could make out. But all of us had to listen as it was near impossible carrying out any other conversation in the room with her bombastic voice next to us. That was Manisha.
Her loud talk still remains a prominent feature but since then Ive discovered so many different aspects of her personality. She’s an excellent cook, both her and Taral having busy medical careers, she still finds time to think of every tiny detail to do with her two boy’s upbringing. Since prakhar, her elder son was born with several medical problems, he still is under follow up and needs a lot of care at home. Never once have I heard her complain or crib about the several hundred demands on her time. Or about the fact that she has had to put her career on the back burner to be able to give enough time to Prakhar and Taral who was grappling with his own demanding work life.
She’s now taken up a staff grade post in the NHS which gives her enough flexibility to be able to juggle home and career.

So far so good…..I haven’t come to Manisha’s USP though - ‘talk before you think’.
As per Amit, she’s like the car which has lost its filter AND silencer…….
So, she keeps the conversations lively. They keep coming, one liners to big fat juicy monologues, at top speed and full volume! Happy times.
(P.S.- Amit is Pratima’s husband.)