Fish Curry, Chappati...........

Some people touch our lives in such a special way that we remember them for life. They may not have bought you monetary gains, not done anything great. Come to think of it, they would have actually done nothing at all. On the contrary, they would have lost something of their own in the bargain. Their time, their money maybe. We would never know, these kind of people are such, they would not let you know.

I do not have anything to repay their kindness, love they had for me. A complete nobody for them. Hence This. Written with all my love and gratitude.

“Maushi” (loosely meaning Aunty), I knew you for less than four months of my life. You would have come across hundreds, if not thousands of care-free guys like me who came to your canteen in the busy industrial area in a small town of Goa. For most of the time I knew you, you were nothing but a shadow for me, moving about busily in the dark kitchen of the canteen where I came to eat food every day for 4 months, noon and night. I just saw you move around ever so busy, Saree tucked in the typical Maharashtrian way, sweaty, tired maybe. Busy arranging dishes for the lunch and dinner time rush. I never once bothered to peep in to check how you look, how old you would be.

I was busy. Busy thinking. Thinking that you have made the Chapatti (Indian bread) even thinner today, the curry you have made would be full of water. What you would have plotted to cheat us of the 18 rupee that we pay for the food.

After about 15-20 days of regularly cursing the food, yet coming there to eat daily as I had paid up-front for the full four months. You once peeped out of the kitchen, to check me out. A regular guy. I thought you would have asked yourself; Oh! This guy will not miss one day’s food haan, every day he will turn up as he has paid upfront, I think he will eat every paisa worth of food!

Instead, you asked me “Pora, Jevat nai ka barobar, Kiti Bareek Disto hai?” (Son, are you not eating well? You look very pale) and I again thought you are just making small talk to ensure, I do not ask for a refund and walk off. Just making sure you don’t lose out on ‘Money’!

Then I dint come for two days in a row, I thought you would have been happy. When I returned:

“Kuthe Gela hota, Bara hai na tu?” (Where had you gone, Hope you are well!).

“Bara hai mee! Phiralya gela hoto.”(Am well, went for sight seeing!).

I could not sense the genuine concern and care in your question or your voice. I did not even bother to see you in the eyes; maybe I would have seen something.

One such night, I came in famished. I can still smell the watery fish curry you made that night. The four chapattis of the standard dinner plate were over in less than a minute from my plate, before I could raise my head; I saw your hand put two more chapattis in my plate. With a pang of guilt hitting my tummy, I ate the two chapattis you put in my plate. I would pay for it anyway, Big Deal!!!.

“3 mahine rahnaar hai ikde, aankhin barik jhaala, tujhi aai mhanel barobar kalji ghetle nai maushi ni” ( 3 Months you would be here, if you become any more thinner by the time you go from here, you mother will say Maushi did not take care of my son)

No matter how much I think about it, I wonder how the food tasted so much better from the next day, the chapattis were just fine, the water from all the curries just disappeared. And I do not know if it showed or not, But I am sure I smiled when I was eating food there, everyday since then.

“Kai Maushi; Kashi Aahe?” (Hello Maushi, How are you)

“Me Bari hai pora, tu sang, Bhook lagli? (I am OK son, tell me are you hungry?)


Even when i asked about you, The question as an answer was about my well being. Suddenly I saw you; I could see the genuine care with which you asked me if I am hungry. It was not just a question. It made a difference to you didn’t it?

Every time you made the fish curry I had so-loved, you never forgot to put the 2 extra chapattis in my plate. Somewhere down the line, you stopped charging me for those extra chapattis. The fish curries started to have more fish pieces floating in them.

“Ithun 2 Kilo jasti gheon jaa, mala changl vatel” (Gain at least 2 more kilos before you go from here, I would feel better)

4 months ended in a jiffy. It was suddenly my last dinner there and I had a bus to catch the next morning, there was the best fish curry again in my plate, with the 2 extra chapattis, and touch of ghee on them. And the Sweet, a nice small piece of Barfi, Coated with love. I selfishly have taken to believe that I am the only person who would have ever gotten a Barfi piece in your canteen.

I touched your feet, and gave you a tight hug. You moved your hands over my head, blessed me for what I was and pardoned me for all the wrong thoughts I had for you and your canteen. With that, I walked out, Never ever to see you again. It is eleven years this month.

Maushi, I have moved on in life. If I ever come back to goa I may never eat in the kind of canteen you run, I would probably be on a corporate card dining in a star hotel, where one chapatti would cost more than what you fed me lunch for. A place where I am sure the waiter / cook would care two hoots If I am hungry, I am sure he would not let me have 2 chapattis for free because I liked the fish curry he fed me. I am sure he is not bothered if I do or do not put on weight. But I am sure no one can make the fish curry as good as you did.

Maushi, I hope you had a nice life since. I am sure you would have. You would have the good wishes of hundreds of people like me. People who did not care for your good deeds then, but have again and again remembered and thanked you. I am also sure; you did nothing to get gratitude in return. But there is absolutely nothing I can give you in return anyway.

Except maybe a big Thank You.


PS> Maushi, I have finally put on weight. From the skinny, lean 52 kilo guy to a healthy 70. The chapattis worked for sure :-) Thank you once again.