I still remember the day vividly. That was the day I had told my mother that I have found my Mr. Right at last. In my heart, I always believed that there is light at the end of the tunnel. But she confirmed it nearly thrice a la Big B style and eventually locked it after a few days of resigned contemplation. The question mark on her face was too evident so neither did she smile nor heave a sigh of relief for her ignorant daughter.
For those who are unaccustomed to my very basic wishes in Mr. Right, please read an earlier post written with all the mighty stupidity I’ve been bestowed with. I’ll unravel them layer by layer as I have nothing better to do now.
A few glimpses of Mr. Right begin to show from the honeymoon onwards. Although the risk of sounding like a nagger looms large over my head, I promise to put down only pure facts and nothing more here.
The coffee is breathtaking at Coorg. Mind you I said Breathtaking alone which means it takes my breath away when its brewing. Where on Earth or the other planets have I claimed to love coffee or even know how to brew a decent one?
I was a ‘Complan Girl’ right from my kindergarten who retaliated in her adolosence to become a diehard ‘chai-shaukeen’, especially with an essence of ginger – a most exotic and cute sounding spice. But who is to explain this to the Mister. Yeah, my Mr. Right is the Mister now and I know now that the light at the end of the tunnel was just another lost soul with a torch in his hand.
The Mister sipped loads of black coffee in an aura of divinity while I watched in daze. I was after all a cutting-chai types. Cut to present when we are as good as an old couple with all ‘Niceties’ of speech and manner nearly vanished, we have become what we were to begin with.
The Mister will not shut the toilet seat; I can see my mum smiling now. She was smiling when I had told her how he cleans and scrubs every inch of the bathroom and the toilet bowl, every time i came visiting. Little did I know that it was just a quick fix before the arrival of the school inspector. It so happened that yesterday he came in early and asked for coffee which is very rare. I was delighted and nearly jumped up in glee, that a lowly ‘chai-shaukeen’ was offered the task of preparing the royal beverage – coffee!
In my divine glee, I not only boiled the filtered coffee powder but also watched in horror as it spilt out in all its Vesuvius fury. Before I could wipe out all evidence, I realised the Mister had witnessed the entire ‘open-and-shut’ case with a rather wide open mouth. He couldn’t bring himself to speak for a few seconds.
After some life-changing moments had passed by, he started blabbering something what now seems to be just my mum smiling away in all her glory. Your Mr. Right, huh?
What can a ginger-tea lover possibly know about brewing exotic roasted and powdered and refined coffee beans? Well, nothing really. The Mister has realised that and now handles all the delicate coffee management devices in our kitchen. It is not so often that ‘realisation’ hits so hard. For someone who promised to try the lowly ‘adrak-chai’ in the name of love, now protects his royal coffee from chai pollution.
I can see my mum’s smirky smile, flash back to that mushy day and cut back to this dreadful day and my mum smiles all the way.