Inheritance
Sometimes there is a need to inherit. Coz not all things in life can be taught, and a lot of things that can be, you don’t always get an opportunity to learn.
I am especially proud of having inherited discipline from my mom. No, I am not talking of the kind that military schools enforce, I am talking about the discipline that most moms have, the discipline of organization, the discipline of efficiency, the discipline of being economical, the discipline of home making and keeping. I have been lucky to have such a mom, and unlucky to not have learnt whenever she taught. But today, as I cook in my kitchen, I realize, I sure have inherited a hell lot.
I am not the tidiest lot when it comes to it really, but the little I have, I owe to my mom. I can’t use a spoon and leave it there for someone else to clean. I can’t chop vegetables exactly the way they are not supposed to be chopped. I can cook without having half the ingredients required, and can remember to use all if I have them. I can’t use too much oil, or salt, or spice. I have to have a list of things to buy before I go to get my groceries. I like to have neat stacks of dabbas arranged for my dals and masalas, preferably labeled. I await the arrival of neighbors whom I lent my steel katori last week. And I love my pressure cooker.
For all the order that exists in my home today…
I am especially proud of having inherited discipline from my mom. No, I am not talking of the kind that military schools enforce, I am talking about the discipline that most moms have, the discipline of organization, the discipline of efficiency, the discipline of being economical, the discipline of home making and keeping. I have been lucky to have such a mom, and unlucky to not have learnt whenever she taught. But today, as I cook in my kitchen, I realize, I sure have inherited a hell lot.
I am not the tidiest lot when it comes to it really, but the little I have, I owe to my mom. I can’t use a spoon and leave it there for someone else to clean. I can’t chop vegetables exactly the way they are not supposed to be chopped. I can cook without having half the ingredients required, and can remember to use all if I have them. I can’t use too much oil, or salt, or spice. I have to have a list of things to buy before I go to get my groceries. I like to have neat stacks of dabbas arranged for my dals and masalas, preferably labeled. I await the arrival of neighbors whom I lent my steel katori last week. And I love my pressure cooker.
For all the order that exists in my home today…
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