MEMORIES DO NOT WITHER AWAY!

It was the year 1970. I was very naive when I got married and moved to Bangalore where my husband called TNN, was employed with Hindustan Aeronautics Ltd.

I had never cooked or learnt how to look after a house. As my father was in a transferable job and busy with building the modern temples of India, we were posted in far off places with almost no good school facilities. To begin with we were at Hirakud Dam Project in Orissa. At the age of five, I followed a girl called Shashi Aggarwal, and was admitted to St Joseph's Convent in Cuttack which was about 280 kilometers away from Hirakud. I stayed in the Boarding House. Ever since then up to my Graduation, I remained in Boarding Schools.

During school holidays when I went home, I never ventured into the kitchen area. My mother would teach me embroidery, knitting and such other beautiful skills, in which I had more interest.

When I landed up in Bangalore after marriage, I was happy to see that my husband had taken a pretty little house on rent in the posh area of Sankey Tank at Upper Palace Orchard. He took me around the house showing me the place and then finally took me into the kitchen and showed me a beautiful cupboard where there was a box filled with chocolates that I loved. I was totally floored! It was then that I saw something else. There were rows of neat boxes full of various things which are needed in a kitchen. I was aghast, bewildered, shocked, scared and what other word have you, to describe my plight!

I had reached my Waterloo, so soon in life!

Not having a single clue about how to go about it, I decided to wait and see how things went from there. I did not even know how to make tea. My culinary skills were limited to only boiling rice and an egg! That was the end of my cooking story! My marriage was what people call a "love marriage" and we had known each other for almost 3 years, so I owned up. For a couple of days we went exploring the various eating joints in this pretty city. Our favourite haunts were Brigade Road, Commercial Street and MG Road. Sometimes the Railway Station too saw us frequenting the Railway Restaurant, where good chicken biryani was served at a reasonable price. Finally Dooms Day arrived and TNN bought a recipe book and said let's start cooking at home. We decided on making aloo and roti. I realised that kneading the dough was extremely difficult. I would first add flour, then water, then flour, more water until finally there were lots of tears also shed. We finally settled for rice and aloo sabzi.

As time passed I learnt from a Gujarati friend how to cook a simple meal.

Those days TNN would leave for office around 8 am. He used to walk up to the main road from where he would catch the HAL Chartered bus. One day immediately after TNN left the house, the bell rang. I thought TNN must have left something behind, but instead I found a man with a basket of roses in his hand. He said that he was a gardener and was selling those rose cuttings. He told me that the sahab who had just left, had seen him around the corner and told him to give the plants to me for Rs. 30. In those days Rs. 30 was a princely sum, as my dear husband earned Rs. 600 only. He was a Management Trainee in the prestigious HAL. I was delighted to realise that my husband knowing my love for gardening had arranged for rose cuttings to be delivered to me. I, the young, naive, silly girl with stars in my eyes was really impressed. I quickly brought out the Rs. 30 and sent the gardener off. I then lovingly planted the cuttings in my tiny garden. In the evening when TNN came home, I thanked him profusely for his kind gesture. He was surprised and then after seeing the cuttings of roses, my endevour to plant them, my fast parting with the money and my abject stupidity at getting so easily duped, sent him into a delightful uncontrolled bout of laughter!

To this day even after 41 years of marriage, of which 30 years were spent working for the prestigious State Bank of India in a Senior management position, I am still laughed at for my abject naivety!

Oh! The innocence of youth!

These  memories were secretly tucked away safely in my mind's safe deposit vault, and have been brought out today to share some anecdotes with you.