Cooking and myself are far apart, in space. The only reason for me to visit the kitchen is to satisfy my insatiable hunger. Insatiable, as i've never seen people of my age eating as much i do. It so happened that a friend was shocked, on seeing me, empty my plate heaped with rice, and there i was, complaining that i my stomach was not full. She had considered herself to be a glutton, until she saw me. Pat, came the reply, 'Mouna, how can you eat so much?'
It did not concern me, when she said this. I'm surrounded by people who skip breakfast everyday, who give lame reasons that food does not enter their throat early in the morning!
However, my parents too realised that i eat a lot. Happy, on the day of the convocation at BVB, for having recieved my diploma certificate, i approached my parents who were seated someplace else. They'd rather speak about the fat that has gained entry into my body, than share my happiness. Celebrating the event in a restaurant, that evening, i was prohibited from eating any fatty food. The ban still continues.
Relatives taunting me on my meagre cooking skills, is a past-time. I am supposed to have accomplished some basic dishes. Well, cousins, younger to me, atleast cook rice, while i'm known for burning rice. My tomato rasam tastes worse than the worst tomato soup available.(Truthfully, i've tried it only once, when mother was ill, she has vowed never to consume rasam prepared by me.)
It's not that i cook terribly, it's just that others' do not fancy my kind of dishes. Asking mother for suggestions, when i'm at a dead end, unable to decide on how to procced. The results have always been disasters, wherein i'm to help, myself in finishing the entire contents. A resolution has been made that my recipes need my touch, only mine. Mother's tips' never help.
Hope that i'll be able to please my folks, with some eatable food. Not that, all my inventions have gone hay-wire. Well, most of them have, but some have been liked peple at home. Once in a blue moon, yes, but they do appreciate.