When I entered kitchen for the first time that too with Papa! (A short story)

Like in most of the families, the female member is Head of the kitchen and my family was no different. We were a family of four, Papa, Mummy, younger brother and I. I and my brother never bothered to learn cooking or even understand the basics of it (now please don’t judge) So, it was just my mother who would always cook delicious meals for us.

Unfortunately, once she slipped from the chair while cleaning and got her leg fractured. It was the time when the daughter inside me woke up and decided to help her to every possible extent. Mummy was delighted that I would develop some interest and skills but she didn’t expect the unexpected.

One evening, Papa and I decided to cook dinner for all of us. He suggested pyaz aloo sabzi and paratha (onion potato curry and Indian bread). Mummy was more scared than happy imagining what she was going to eat that night and even more than that the aftermath. How can I not mention here, she is a cleaning freak so our home was shining at any given point of time and we were cautious not to mess up.

So with that fear in her mind, she asked us to sit back and just help her in salad dressing or setting the table but my father insisted on preparing a full fledged dinner. He was full of zeal to show his cooking talent which he had, kind of developed during the days of his outstation stay away from home when he was transferred to far off cities.

Finally, I and Pa were in the kitchen together for the first time. I helped him chop vegetables and knead flour while he cooked the curry and then we made parathas together with all the possible maps of many countries.

Whistle 1, 2, 3…..and we switched off the gas. The dinner was ready. All four of us sat on the well decorated dining table with the new cutlery, reserved only for the guests, as it was a special occasion. After all, we had cooked our first meal together.

Everyone had their first bite, then second, then third………finally all of us looked at each other and bursted into laughter. The curry seemed like potatoes dipped in oil and bread was a crisp paper hard to even chew.

But, it was undoubtedly the best meal ever as it had all the ingredients of a super supper – love for each other, care for Mummy, laughter, togetherness, teamwork, trust and most of all the joy of cooking together. I still remember the aroma and tasteless taste of that dinner and cherish it the most. The curd and papad oops paratha were the savoury. We clapped for our MasterChef!