FICTION
Aromas of Nostalgic Ambition
A Lot of Firsts in Life
Her dreamy eyes stayed fixated towards the horizon. The sepia-tinted lights of the city swayed, waving at her, to join them as they sing the song of the dusk. A cool breeze played peekaboo with her senses, for a moment, before disappearing into thin air. Could she feel a tinge of petrichor in the breeze? Rain, soon? Her ears could just hear the sound of crickets, the cacophonic sounds of the city just blurred, just toned down to zero. She smiled, absent-mindedly. She closed her eyes and was transported back to her childhood days, her grandma beside her, cooking the delectable Mutton Kosha, which involves slowly cooking a gravy over low flame for a very long time to get a rich, dark-brown gravy and melt-in-the-mouth mutton/chicken/lamb pieces. Her curious eyes, her excited sensory nerves, all interplaying together, as if a symphonic orchestra, waiting for the crescendo, for those succulent pieces to get finished cooking, and grandma’s unstable hands would lovingly pick a piece, from the overheated cauldron and put it directly in her open mouth. And, that taste, she would give up everything just to go back and taste it one more time. Alas!
Her cell phone twinkled. She moved towards it, picking it up. Uttered some words, her heart seemed to skip a beat. It was the first time in her life that she had attempted grandma’s recipe. And not for herself. She didn’t even taste a bit, after cooking it.
The smell, grandma used to say, the smell shall speak to you.
She, a middle-aged woman, with barely anyone around her, a whim, decided to start a food delivery service, from home. And today came the first order. And that too, of grandma’s recipe from years ago. Grandma used to say, this recipe was taken by her from her grandma. Who knows, how old the original recipe is, how many generation-meandering journeys it traversed, in real? Isn’t it fascinating?
Neatly packed in a container, the recipe, of Mutton Kosha, awaited to be picked up by the delivery representative from an online service. Her heart trembled, and beads of sweat accumulated around her forehead. Would it turn out to be good? What if she missed some ingredients? What if the salt was more? Or less? What if?
His old scooter rattled with excitement today. Monsoon-infested rain-laden winds shuffled his hair behind, blurring his views for a moment, but he was happy today.
“I will mend you very soon, my friend. I know you need a very good doctor, to tighten your screws, clean your dusty parts, and make you shine like you were when dad brought you for me. Just wait for some more time, my friend. I am on my way towards something good. And I need your support, today, of most days.”
A middle-aged lady had called, and she explained her address. He will have to navigate around this bustling city, reach the place, pick up the order and deliver it correctly within a stipulated time. And, done. That’s the job basically. His Day 1, the first of many. He wants to make sure everything goes right, and he gets a good first rating from the customer. It’d immensely help. It was his first job, and thoughts jumbled up in his mind, he felt nervous, scared, excited, and whatnot. What if he’s not able to reach on time? What if he doesn’t deliver it on time? What if his dear scooter decides to stop working? What if?
New cities are so strange, no? All of a sudden you’re thrown into a place about which you do not know anything. Everything’s new, and strange, your senses, seem to take a lot of time to adjust and try to find that comfort zone from which you made this journey, in the first place. Stepping out of your comfort zone, but again searching for that comfort zone in this new place. And what greater comfort zone, than food? Ever since she shifted here, she seemed to get a hang of the place slowly, but what about the aroma of mom’s home-cooked meal? That, cannot be replaced. Unknowingly, she craved comfort food, but her work kept her away from such thoughts, but today, everything broke down. She had to order something, and well, she found someone who makes homemade Mutton Kosha. Nostalgia! She had to order this! And here she was, waiting for that calling bell to sing, soon! Maybe soon! What if somehow, the order gets cancelled? What if the delivery representative misplaces her order? What if?
He rode his scooter back, a little relaxed, and the rush of the city seemed to immerse itself into slow motion. The fluttering winds caressed his eyes and his face, and he seemed to enjoy every moment of it. And why would he not? He got a five-star rating for his first-ever delivery, in his first-ever job. More to come, more to come, he felt more confident than ever before.
“My friend, all is going to be well. Don’t worry. We have just begun.”
The wise trees on the horizon swayed by the winds. Nodding. Affirmative nodding.
She danced with joy, imagine a middle-aged woman dancing like a little child, happiness laced on her face, as she received a five-star rating for the Mutton Kosha, along with a little review. He couldn’t believe she was able to do justice to grandma’s recipe. She sat down, her heart beats racing. Her eyes get clouded with tears, her vision blurring, slowly. She couldn’t control the flurry of emotions running down her cheeks. She felt she saw grandma sitting beside her, caressing her hair and then kissing her cheeks. She let all kinds of emotions engulf her.
The first bite of Mutton and her hands trembled. The taste, in a single moment, transported her back to her hometown, to the little wooden table where she used to eat with her Mom. The power of food, perhaps. She kept eating, and eating, as tears flowed down her cheeks, mixing with the mutton, the gravy, and everything. Who might have made this? She decided to call her Mom. She missed her a lot. But before that, she had to review this heavenly food item.
Isn’t it surreal? Three unknown beings, interconnected unknowingly for some moments, each, never knowing what the other is going through, but somehow, together it all makes complete sense. All coming together like lego blocks, and forming the perfect structure. And being happy, amidst the chaos, amidst the race, amidst all complexities of life. And that’s what matters.
Somsubhra Banerjee, 2023
Thank you so much, dear Readers, for all your time, in reading my stories and for your likes, feedback and comments. They make my day, and they make me emotional. Thank you so much!
If anyone of you would like to try the dish mentioned in this story, Mutton Kosha, head over here, the recipe is near perfect:-
Thanks, as always, to Thomas Gaudex, for the immense support that you do, to writers like us, and for building this exceptional Scribe community. Thank you so much!
