A helping hand….

Since I was a child

Mum and Me - 1983

I had a dream

To write a book.

What kind of story always plagued me.

The dream never materialised.

I had an idol, a mentor, a friend,

A mother

Known far and wide for her magical hands and delicious food.

I found my clarity. I wanted to write a cook book.

Her cook book.

I wanted to honour her legacy. I wanted to save her legacy for me.

For the day I would need to cook.

For the day her grandchildren and grandnephews and nieces would make her food for me.

It was about her and me.

More about me.

I thought it was a brainwave. A unique idea.

I turned to the only person I knew who could help make it happen.

Little did I know my aunt had been working on the same thought for years.

At first it broke my heart.

Annoyed me.

My unique idea was not so unique.

My book, not mine.

Her reasons were different from mine

Monisha & Vasu - 1988-89?

but possibly the same?

To honour her mother, her aunts and uncles, her food?

She was the baby in her generation; I am the baby in mine. 

It may not be true, but that’s what I want to believe.  

Her food – my food

My food her food,

is it not but the same?

Of the invisible family ties that persevered through decades and generations,

Was the only constant thread the taste of our food?

Ego didn’t matter. Accolades either.

It wouldn’t be my best seller. It would be even better.

It would be a personal tribute.

The dream changed. The timeline too.

It should have been completed in her lifetime.

I thought time was not the issue,

There was ample time.

The pace of gathering material and stories crawled along over years

It did not worry me.

It would be done. It would be completed.

Even my dedication.

if I had the chance to add one, was decided.

And when I was looking at other things, the hour glass emptied.

Time ran out.

I gave up on my dream.

My aunt’s desire to fulfil hers grew stronger.

However, the book will materialise.

The dream will be fulfilled.

For all the smallies who came after me

Iona, Nayantara, Abhay, Zoya, Ishaan, Isabella, Jasmer, Saba, and Vasundhara too.

For all their smallies who will come.

From being the baby, Moni is the aunt

And in time has become a grand aunt too.

From being the baby I am an aunt

and in time will become a grand aunt too.

Life doesn’t stop.  Change is the only constant.

This book will be the anchor.

The food will remain unchanged.    

Her food will continue to heal our souls.