Winding through Life

We were on a scenic highway in California. It was one of those beautiful, long, winding paid highways that takes you to US 101, through the Redwoods, with trees that meet overhead. The morning sunlight filtered through the leaves casting crazy patterns on the road, giving everything a fresh and ethereal quality. Yes, this had the makings of a perfect first date alright. My mind kept dwelling on food though. The coffee we had stopped for at Starbucks before we got onto this long winding part of the trip sloshed around in my empty stomach. I needed food but had been a little embarrassed to ask for it as we had not hit that level of comfort yet....Yes, I am a girl who loves her breakfast but I can be annoyingly girlie at times. I also hadn’t a clue that the long and winding was this long, or this winding. And as the morning progressed, my food thoughts intensified to shrieking heights. Till we hit the REALLY winding part at which point the immense love for food I was experiencing was replaced by a loathing. The kind of loathing that can happen only just before you HURL! I pointed at the first clearing I could see, my date brought the car to a screeching halt, and I leaped out of the rental car and puked my guts out. I can only guess at what his thoughts were as he stood at a distance with a box of napkins, wringing his hands. No doubt wondering how this carefully planned day was off to such a ‘hurling’ start. Mine were abundantly clear though. “I need food; he seems to run on coffee. This is a sign. This will NEVER work.” Yes, I threw up on our first ‘official’ date, 6 times to be accurate.


Saturday morning I stood in the kitchen. I opened and reopened the refrigerator door. The eggs were there, so was the bread. I just needed to put it together. I even eyed the dosa pan, thinking of the process. My faculties weren’t so readily accessible to me. So I just stood there. The hubby walked into the kitchen, looked at me and went “You need food.” 10 minutes later we were on our way to Chennai Woodlands. Needless to say we had partied long and strong the previous night and warm food that had been prepared by someone else, brought to me and served, was in order. I munched on the plain dosa (crepe-like wafer-thin pancakes) while my idlis (fermented rice cakes) soaked in gorgeous sambhar (spicy lentil soup kinda thing). Till they hit that saturated, crumbling point when they were scooped up and sent for a quick dip in the chutney pool. I even had the stomach for a masala dosa after this. The hubby sat there nursing his coffee, nibbling on something quite halfheartedly. I think he was experiencing the now familiar feeling of being grossed out at how much I was putting away mingled with immense satisfaction that he had got this one full and square, that he knew the wife.


I know that since I have started blogging, it seems like I do not let a Horlicks or dishes episode pass, ‘unseized’. I know I have whined about the romance that seems to have been married off and sent away. I also know that quite a few of my handful of readers are single. So let me take this chance to set the record straight on my views on the subject. To not have to force yourself to think when you are not up to it, to know that decisions made on your behalf will only have your welfare in mind, to be able to completely trust that even though you might not be the expert on a particular subject and be completely unaware of the intricacies behind it, you do have this covered as you are with a person who will take the time to cover it for you, is unbeatable. I am obviously not talking about just idlis here. And this is just a small fraction of the whole picture.

Am I glad I stuck around after the hurling to figure out that he needs his food too, large quantities of it, but just a little later in the day? YES. Do we do winding roads anymore? NO. It’s all in the prenup, just after the section on no-translation-of-Tamil-movies and before the one on foot-massages. It’s the prenup all couples have, the one that isn’t about money, the one you don’t need your lawyer to help write up, and the one that keeps changing. You can add to it and remove, as you wish, as long as you both get to be editors.

To my readers - I realize I had promised a dishy scoop on the party and have instead written on this. Sorry, can’t help it! The party was a blast and I came away loving life and the living. The sambhar and the spring did not help either. But please don’t walk away in a huff, the bitch is on a hiatus but she will soon resurface. I promise!