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Pickling or the Art of Fingering

Suddenly I am praying for the Sun to burn bright for at least two more days. Romanticism of rain can take a backseat. I don’t want falling raindrops. There’s a selfish reason behind it. Because I want to sun dry my mango pickle. In between work, attending a marriage, dealing with soaring mercury and most importantly recovering from an intoxicating holiday hangover, I decided to make mango pickle (of course with help from Taraben, my cook).
My friend who dreams of becoming a ‘spice queen’ fuelled my desire to make pickle. I bought a packet of pickle masala and raw mangoes from her as I thought it’s better to buy it from her than from the market. I believe in encouraging budding women entrepreneurs. On my way home, I enthusiastically stopped at a crockery shop and carefully chosen a glass bottle to  store pickle.
And when my mom called up in the evening, I had to give her this ‘breaking news.’ I secretly wanted to score a point over my (academician) elder sister who doesn’t even make a cup of tea at home forget about making pickle. So, this was my humble attempt to put myself on a higher pedestal and score some brownie points. There was no doubt that mummy darling was happy with her daughter’s ‘attempt’ to make pickle. As expected, my mom told me to get her a small bottle of pickle when I visit her next. I told her, “Of course, all these years you have done  so much, now it’s time for you to have a taste of our cooking and pickling skills.” (A clear attempt to score over Didi and to touch that emotional chord).
And in my family, news travel fast. Much faster than the 24X7 news channels. So, the next call came from my younger sister in Atlanta asking me how my pickle-making session is going on. True to the DNA, she also asked me to give her a bottle of pickle when she visits India in 2013. Never knew, my pickles would be so much in demand (for whatever reason it could be). Being a journo, I don’t take anything on face value.

So, naturally when my friend Indira (equally mad like yours truly) came on G chat and said
Nunni Chunni (she calls me by the name ‘Nunni Chunni’ which I simply love it), I had to flash the breaking news. So, here goes the flow of conversation between the two ‘MAD’ friends

Indira: nunni chunni
9:31 AM me: Hiii
9:32 AM me: Indira I made mitha aam ka achar today. u have to taste it
 indira: Parcel it
 me: Teri nunni multi-talented hai
9:33 AM indira: since when you have become an aunty making achar and all? is it a very “attempting achhar”? my neighbour once told me indira maine aaj bahut attempting (tempting she meant) achar banayi hain
9:34 AM me: Ha ha haaaaaa I m rolling in laughter
  I m the pickle queen
9:35 AM indira: now u can bring out a pickle book
  title: Attempting pickles by mrs menon
9:36 AM me: Nunni achar
9:37 AM indira: nunni ki ungli ka kamal
9:38 AM me: Yesss the art of fingering
 indira: You can also have other descriptives on your label: seekhiye ungli kaha kaha pahanch sakti hain
 OR ungli ki doosri istamal hahahahahah
 me: U bitch
9:39 AM indira: chuslo nunni ki achar
me: Nunni ki achar tere liye nehin……

Then our conversation veered towards an ex-colleague who thinks that he’s God’s greatest gift to woman kind and of course he’s India’s answer to Orhan Pamuk (he thinks so, we don’t)

I hope, the shameless blazing Ahmedabad Sun will not do a 360 degree turn. And my mom and my younger sister will look at me with renewed respect. All for a bottle of pickle.

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About Deepika Sahu

I earn my living through writing stories, editing what other people write (in simple terms I am a journalist). I dream of opening a cafeteria in the mountains, owning a beach home on the shores of Bay of Bengal... but right now, they all seem like wild dreams.. A gypsy at heart --- am passionate about life, music, words, cooking for people I love, soaking in the lashing rain and just looking at the changing colours of the sky.... And I am a great fan of the Indian Railways and I long to travel in First Class AC coupe across India.....with my man

One response to “Pickling or the Art of Fingering

  1. indira ⋅

    now i deserve a big bottle of achar!

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