129) The Cook

After my wife’s death, I felt deserted given that my son had chosen in live in another part of the world. Here I am not yet sixty and still a long way to go to the grave.

For an old man, Madras is a paradise. The evenings can be filled with concerts, morning we always have the Marina beach for a walk and where we oldies congregate for the day’s gossip. Having a long day in front and with nothing to do, the newspaper becomes another activity for the idle mind. But the biggest source of annoyance is those bills: credit card ones, electricity, water charges, mobile bills, milk, and the shopping for vegetable daily. In my entire life I have never attended domestic chores – bless my wife for that- and now these were driving me crazy.

On friends’ suggestion, I appointed a cook. Pushpa, a tall, lean woman in mid 40s was a picture of efficiency right from the start. Her terms were that I keep the rice and dhal on the cooker and she would come in like an expert and prepare sambhar, rasam, curry besides 4 chappatis for the day.

In the first two months we hardly conversed for she seemed always in a hurry. Slowly we got talking.

She said,” I start the day at 7 in the morning cooking for a software couple on 30th cross. From there I work in the temple secretary’s house and yours is the third. I only reach home at 11’o clock and then start my own cooking for my husband and son”.

She was interested in finding a job for her son and asked for my assistance. I asked her imp to meet me for my assessment before I can conjure up something.

Balaji was gawky and angular. He looked a straight line than any flesh in the body. I browsed through the badly written resume and then started chatting with him.

He said,” Uncle, I have graduated from political science and please help me get any job. I hate to see my mother struggle so hard and I wish to bring some money to the house”.

This warmed my heart instantly. I queried,” What does your father do?”

Balaji cussed under his breath and said,” he is really good for nothing and can do better than drink and beat my mother. One of these days, I am going to give him a thrashing”.

The story did not stop there as Balaji got emotional,” he married my mother on a lie. He was already married with two daughters and yet lied to get married again just for another dowry. My poor mother has stuck it out despite his wastrel ways just because she believes in tradition. This rogue takes away all her money, beats her every other alternate day and yet she stands by him. She will even tolerate my criticism”.

I could only say,” She is old fashioned though a woman of great virtue”.

The lad said,” I don’t understand”.

I got the boy a job in Blue Star as an account assistant and as to Pushpa, I said,” I feel sad for you and if there is anything I can do for you, I shall surely do it. Self-sacrificing souls like you are a rarity in today’s world”.

She answered,” I am just doing my dharma,” before cleaning the vessels and keeping it on the stove for another day at work.