That pinch of salt in curry !!

It was supposed to be my last meeting with her. It wasn’t that i was going to border or something but that was the general feeling my mind had perceived. Neither was i willing to think of this situation in any other way because even though it was just a perception of my mind deep down in my heart i knew that it was very close to reality. I meet her at Kanjurmarg station and although its a slow train station the place is always busting with people. Probably the station wouldn’t even exist if it wasn’t for IIT Bombay. 

And it is the closest connecting station to Powai. I saw Powai 5 years back when i came to Mumbai for the first time on my own, and had dreamt of living in hiranandani complex since then.  She was a colleague of mine at my first job. I don’t quiet remember how we manage to stay in touch with each other once both of us left that job. But somehow we did held on to that string, which at time was as thin as thread.

Being from a Punjabi family the only apt way for me to give her a farewell was by hosting a dinner for her, and it was for this purpose that we were heading in an auto back to my rented 14^th floor apartment overlooking my office which was just a walking distance away.

“So this is why you get time to cook?” she asked.

“Oh come on!! Cut that weird American accent one me... i know how crappy your English is.”

“Achaa!!... then you need to find a better excuse for avoiding this question”. She replied

“I am not avoiding anything, and what would you do now even if I did tell you?” I said.

I noticed a small hint of disappointment and her smile shrinking.

“but yes... this... this whole set-up.. this everything you see around me allowed me. And it is not a big deal.” I replied

 

“to live i need to eat... and to eat i have to make...whatever i can” i added

“you really need to work on your emotions young man” she replied and laughed.

“and you can laugh all you want when you will miss this home food out there” i said

I never realised her importance in my life all the time when she was around. Some might say that i did acknowledge this fact but couldn’t convey it. Some might even say that i didn’t convey it because of day such like this. But if you ask me i did convey it sometimes. Although it was tough initially but with practise and few more attempts it did came out the way i wanted it to come out.

But somehow between my chase and her running things just faded out. There was no specific reason, there were just these two things. One pulling me and other pushing me, both in different directions. and then one day she asked me “What am i in your life?”. And i had no answer. In that push and pull i guess i was lost.

“my god you do know how to cut onions.” She said leaning against the kitchen door as if teasing me.

“i hate backseat chefs....but i might make an exception for you, coz i don’t get many guests here.”

“really??... i might not like you making an exception for me.” She replied

 I understood the sarcastic tone in that sentence.

“I wouldn’t  say that if i were in your place, Especially now that you would be flying to America in a few weeks time with that crappy accent of your” I said so to dilute the situation with a wipe of fun.

“FYI it’s not America it Canada... waterloo, Ontario Canada my friend, and i bet your cooking wouldn’t be any better than my accent.”

“Then why dont you help me with the salt in fish curry for starting?” I asked her with an open jar of salt in one hand and spoon on the other. And instantly she knew that I had lost the argument then and there. She added a pinch of it in the curry and somehow it tasted.

“Perfect!!!... Now get out of that stupid apron and lets eat... I am hungry” she ordered.

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“Mr Lewis, you do cook better that my expectations” she said after taking a few bits of fish curry on dining table.

“Yeah?? don’t like it too much, I know you are going to miss it in ONTARIO CANADA....hahaha” i laughed.

“Itna bhi miss nahi karugi....” i again sensed a hint of sarcasm in her voice. I just couldn’t understand why.

She helped me wash the dishes with a promise that in turn i would help her get a Taxi. But this sarcasm of her kept poking my mind.

“You know once you had asked me ‘what were you in my life?’ Sometime back..” I asked her while we waited for a taxi.

“Yes and I also remember there was nothing that you said back then” she replied.

“Because I didn’t knew it back then”. I answered.

“So do you know it now?” she again asked with an attitude in her stance and sarcasm in her voice.

“Yes” I replied.

“And what is that?” she asked with a blade of sarcasm which i felt she had perfected since last time.

I answered “that pinch of salt in curry”.

Remembering that you are to be Forgotten....