Tuesday, 3 June 2014

The Pickle Jar.....

                   




 Under the kitchen slab, rested the large pickle jar. The old lady of  the house was the sole manufacturer of the contents in it. Sometimes raw mangoes my mouth is already sour, sometimes lemons and sometimes I don't know what she added in that jar.

                         Every 2- 3 days she used to shake the jar and the sound  echoed till the roof with us eavesdropping upon the moving delicacy inside. Sometimes I stole a little piece only to find her standing and staring  with scorching eyes and lips opening to say,"Don't you dare break the jar. I love pickles  like anything."
     
                         I loved pickles yes, but not the oil in it for it would always burn my throat and  irritate my stomach. Every now and then I would swear that I won't have it again but the greed always emerged victorious, when I saw everyone enjoying it with delight.
     

                         Then one day, the old lady packed the tiffin box with chapattis and aloo gobi ki sabji to be sent to her husband who worked at a distance from home. The lady was enjoying her meal when the Tiffin waala bhaiya  arrived asking for the tiffin. She ordered her son  to put the tiffin in the bag and hand it over to the boy.While he did the job, the lady screamed my name to bring some pickles from the jar.
             

                         I searched here and there but all in vain .For my dismay cannot find the jar.I went upto her and said in a busy tone "Where is that bloody jar???I could not see it. May be I am blind". She said ,"Go again, you can find God if you want to." I returned to the kitchen, trying to find where the jar could have possibly gone may be for a stroll or may be to the bedroom to sleep, haahaa....


                        Under the slab,I was seeing when suddenly, something disturbed my minute inspection. It was something that was shinning on the slab near the gas stove. It was something I could not understand. I ran to the lady to tell her my findings. I asked her in a confused tone,"Do we have another set of tiffins  similar to the ones we send everyday??" She noded no .I said ,"Then what did the brother give to the tiffin waala.....???

                            
                        The burst of laughter availed her lips that I had never seen in my entire life as if I am 2000 years old haaaaaa...aaaaaaaa. Brother was arrested and questioned and he admitted his crime with a blush. Now the sentence he was awarded was To take the tiffin to the work place without BUTTS and WHATTS and WHY......