Jassy woke up with a start. Not that she had a good sleep. The whole night had been spent tossing and turning. Reason? It was going to be the first day that she would be handling all responsibilities of ‘her’ home. ‘Home’, it felt queer. Only one month at this new place and she was supposed to call it as her home. Wierd. A girl spends 20-21 years at her parental home and then she gets married and within seconds she is supposed to call the new place as ‘home’. But now was not the time to mull over facts; there was a lot to be done.
Jaswanti had been the darling at her home. Pampered yet taught the virtues of hard work, raised modestly yet taught to respect everyone, taught to be self-reliant yet be humble. And though she was self-sufficient, the death of her parents and her brother in an accident devastated her. She had managed to live alone for two years., finish her graduation, yet living in ah empty house pained her. And so when Shakuntala aunty their neighbor who had migrated to USA asked her hand for her son, she agreed. There were many reasons to her agreeing, the primary being that she knew them well and secondly she knew that she could pursue her education further.
Jatin had always been the shy types. She never knew what he wanted or what he thought of. Her ‘suhaag raat’ had nothing of what the magazines said or the TV show showed. HE had just muttered, ‘you must be tired’ and had switched off the lights and both of them had slept-separately.
And so when Shaku aunty said that she was going to meet her sister in London, Jassy trembled. She suspected that she had left so that both she and Jatin could spend some time alone. And today was the first day.
The day had went on well. She had manged to finish housework, and started on with her studies- yes she was planning to do a diploma in human relations. And it was dinner time now. Now Jatin was a finicky eater. Everything was to be home made. While all the others could be managed, it was rotis that she dreaded. Firsttly her rotis would not be soft and melt in the mouth types and secondly they were never round.
Jatin came, he ate.. silently and when he was leaving he said, it does not matter if the rotis are hard- you will improve with practice but at least make them round.
Jassy sighed. She knew Jatins obsession with perfection in shapes. Even when they used to play in the yard as kids, the boxes in hopscotch had to be equal and perfectly squared.
From then on Jassy made perfect round rotis. Though small they were all equal and round.
The fourth day Jatin peeped in the kitchen just before dinner time to see how Jassy was managing to make such equally round rotis and smiled.On the kitchen platform were half a dozen oddly shaped supposedly rotis. Jassy would cut each into rounds with the help of a side plate just before roasting it on the griddle!!
to be continued