hunger pangs

its very hot and i'm hungry. people who try to sell the idea that heat kills hunger should be made to starve in sub-saharan climates for days.i had grand plans of indulging myself with a huge north indian dinner. if there is soul food , it is tandoori chicken. a close second is chicken biriyani.and the takeaway five minutes from home serves both.

the plan was going along fantastic lines, till my father decided to contribute his two pence's worth( he was feeling guilty about sitting at home playing solitaire on his pc, while the rest of us had a long working day). my progenitor benevolently called the chinese joint in the next block, and was interrupted mid-call by my mother who wanted to go out.the arguementative tradition is well-preserved in both my parents and it was a 30 minute long patient discussion - the kind where seething people talk in cold, well-modulated voice.

i did not want chinese food. and this morning my father admired my new half-mojris, slid them on his feet and asked me if he could wear it when he wears indian clothes.( i do not have boat like feet, i just bought shoes a size larger because i like the colour and i like buying new shoes.) he also proceeded to use 'indo-chic' and 'metrosexuality' in the same sentence. i gave him the evil eye and have tried to be markedly cold towards him. i don't like my parents "cool". sheer laziness, however, prevented me from taking up my mother's suggestion that we all dress up and go out. diplomatically, i excused myself and went to change the lightbulb in the guestroom.

didi, our housekeeper, who i suspect can trace her ancestry to attila the hun, solved the issue by noisily banging the dishes down on the table, set with food she believes in. now, that is something we all treat with extreme caution. sometimes she produces food you can die for. but on other numerous occasions, being an independent spirit, she experiments with culinary art, leaving a lot to be desired. both my parents are extremely scared of her. she has been with us since time immemorial and has given me and my brother some of our most memorable spankings. she is also one of the steadiest of our emotional anchors, but that does not take anything away from the fear factor.

this is one battle where i decided discretion is indeed the better part of valor. i pleaded the need to get some more work done and slunk away.i should have stood for my rights to eat the kind of food i want. i should have pointed out that i'm an adult, but never in the last 9 months have i won with that line of arguement.

i do not want any introspective insight regarding my unevolved persona. at the moment i'm miserable and i'm hungry. very hungry.

ps. in a display of twisted up cosmic humor - the book lying on my table is Ben Okri's The Famished Road