I'm terribly missing the food cooked by my mom. The last time i ate what she cooked was one and half years ago. Then she fell sick only to never get up and make that chicken manchurian or that khichda !Instead she ate what i cooked for her for 6 months while she could still eat it and another 4 months by feeding tube through her nose.
She never cooked pasta - that was my thing ! She gave up trying to make gulabjamuns when they came out ruined the umpteenth time.She stopped making idlis and dosas - i soaked the dal and chawal and ground the batter and works from last 10 years or so. She always made khichda, biryani and kaadi chawaal and manchurian.Hence i am not fab at those.She made the rotis.
I miss her meals - those quick ones conjured out of nothing. Or those leftovers transformed. I remember the days she wouldn't want to cook but would eventually go to the kitchen before Dad came back from shop.
I miss the bhajiyas she made most sunday evenings. My dad has stopped asking for bhajiyas now.
I promised her i wouldn't cry and i don't except when i remember her sufferings and her last days. When will that day come when i don't remember her sufferings but just good old school days when i used to throw my bag on the bed and run to the kitchen to see what she had cooked that day !
I'll never get to eat that food again !
She never cooked pasta - that was my thing ! She gave up trying to make gulabjamuns when they came out ruined the umpteenth time.She stopped making idlis and dosas - i soaked the dal and chawal and ground the batter and works from last 10 years or so. She always made khichda, biryani and kaadi chawaal and manchurian.Hence i am not fab at those.She made the rotis.
I miss her meals - those quick ones conjured out of nothing. Or those leftovers transformed. I remember the days she wouldn't want to cook but would eventually go to the kitchen before Dad came back from shop.
I miss the bhajiyas she made most sunday evenings. My dad has stopped asking for bhajiyas now.
I promised her i wouldn't cry and i don't except when i remember her sufferings and her last days. When will that day come when i don't remember her sufferings but just good old school days when i used to throw my bag on the bed and run to the kitchen to see what she had cooked that day !
I'll never get to eat that food again !
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