I can’t eat this same Lauki (bottle gourd) everyday complained Aditya.
Ma had prepared Lauki again and Aditya was grumpy at the prospect of having to eat the same vegetable two days in a row now.
‘Didn’t I asked you to get vegetables yesterday evening, but you only suggested to prepare whatever is at home, I did that and whatever was at home is in front of you now’ Ma replied with a chuckle.
‘Stop making faces, here’s Aam ka achar (mango pickle) said Ma, while serving a generous helping of achar (pickle) on his plate.
‘I will get Bhindi (lady finger/okra) tomorrow, so I don’t have to bear this Lauki again’, declared Aditya emphatically, while eating the first morsel of the vegetable laced with a thick helping of achar to make it palatable.
Ma smiled watching Aditya struggle to finish off his lunch.
‘Hey, Aditya, aren’t you coming for dinner’, asked his roommate.
Aditya hated going to the mess, just looking at the food being served there was enough to kill one’s appetite, but didn’t had much of a choice.
‘Yes, sure, let’s go’ said Aditya while putting on his Jacket and taking slow, lethargic steps towards the eating area.
Sitting in the mess he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about home cooked food and Ma, as he saw Lauki on his plate again.
He couldn’t complain about it to anyone today as he stretched his hands reluctantly to begin eating, there was no homemade ‘aam ka achar’ to make it somewhat bearable either.
Surprisingly, he felt a strong urge to taste that same ‘Lauki’ his mother would cook with that same ‘achar’ she would serve it with.
He never felt he would be missing ‘Lauki’, he used to so strongly hate and vowed to eat anything, when he travels back home during the next vacation while forcibly pushing another bite of Lauki down his throat.