A regular sultry summer morning in an old house situated in the by-lines of the heart of Delhi 06. Dinesh, an 82-year-old man is busy making tea, careful about the proportions of the ingredients he put. At 5 o clock, there may be hardly any people awake but the old residents of Madarsa Road have already begun the day. The cleaner is busy making the cars spotless after the stormy night and the Jamadar’s jhadoo has rhythmic sounds.
Sushma enters the kitchen and moves to the fridge to take out the boiled potatoes for making parathas for breakfast. He looks at her tired form and smiles a little, “I will mash them, why don’t you drink the tea till then?”
Nodding, she dragged a stool and took a sip from the cup he gave her as Dinesh began mashing the potatoes. “The tea is very nice.” She said, dipping a biscuit inside it.
“I will be a little late from office today, I was thinking of going to Khadi Baoli and get the household items.”
Dinesh stepped aside as Sushma stood up to start making the paratha stuffing. As she began rolling the dough, he took out the tawa and greased it with the oil.
They both worked in perfect silence but were in complete sync with each other. They were effortless, she rolled the parathas and he cooked them.
After they finished eating their breakfast, Sushma went for a shower as Dinesh went and cleared the kitchen. While she was doing her puja, Sushma prayed for the harmony and prosperity of her daughters and their family. She lit the diya in front of the gods and waited for Dinesh to enter the kitchen.
He held her hand and helped her up, “how many times have I told you, you should take a taller stool to sit. It is so uncomfortable for you.”
“But then I will be higher than the idols and what if they don’t listen to my prayers?” Shaking his head, he held her up.
Sushma sat comfortably on the sofa and took her glasses to read the newspaper. She had been deeply engrossed in reading the headlines when Dinesh said bye to her and left.
He walked towards the metro station when he recalled something and went back upstairs. He saw Sushma was dusting the living room and looked at him astonished, “what happened? You left something?” She enquired.
Nodding, he went inside their bedroom and walked out with his towel. Sushma shook her head in despair, “I am sorry, I forgot to put it out the towel for drying.”
She chuckled as she said, “bye.” Just as he was walking out of the door she called out, “why don’t you get some makhnidaal from the dhaba on the way back for dinner? I will make the chapatis.” He nodded and left.
And all Sushma could think, was how lucky she was to have him.
The story has been published on HautMondeTV
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