Miss KNOW IT ALL

Parents biggest nightmare is handling a teenager especially if they are a rebel. This is one such phase, where the teenager assumes “I know it all” and of course parents presume “I am the best parent a child can have with my amazing parenting skill”

Quite recently, we were talking about various cuisines across the globe and why the Asian cuisine is the best. As we sat discussing on the spice levels, I recollected one particular incident that happened to me during my High School. We had moved to India a year back and were still adapting to the new environment. My school used to get over by 2:30 PM and we were back home by 3:00 PM.

Mom was the best cook I have ever come across and there is no denial to that. Our lunch boxes were a delight to all my classmates, since it was filled with yummy stuffed parathas, which people would not have even heard of. This was before the internet era. Yup no YouTube channels, no google browser. In short no computers. Most of the time, I would end up not eating since my tiffin box was in demand and I would be handed over rice stuff which I could not eat. My mom was aware and hence it was compulsory for me and my brother to have rice and veggies once we are back from school, as dinner at our place was again tiffin items.

On one particular day, not sure why; but I was annoyed with mom for some odd reason. Guess a teen doesn’t need a reason to throw a tantrum and I was definitely sulking a lot. I had made up my mind, that I will be making Maggie for myself and eating. This is one item which was very rarely found in our household. I stormed into the house, freshened up and said “I am having Maggie. Don’t worry I will make it.” My mom looked up from her book and said “There is curd rice and potato fry. Eat that for now. We will see about Maggie over the weekend.” To ensure my mom is convinced with my reasoning. I picked up the sauces that my uncle had bought from USA and said “I want to try this sauce as it says it’s the spiciest of sauces. Want to understand how spicy it can be? “My mom was getting irritated. “Once can you listen to me. Why do you need to argue for every single thing I say? That’s going to be spicy and why do you want to try it.”

Even as a teen, I used to eat a lot of spice. Hence, I scoffed since American food is the blandest of the lot and they find jalapeno spicy. I remembered once my uncle’s friends told me how he had made spicy food. And they were talking about lemon rice. After a good five minutes of argument, my mom said that I am going to learn the hard way and stormed off to read a book. I was happy that I won the battle. Who is she kidding? I have been to US eaten their street food and what not. Everything is filled with cheese. The peppercorns are not spicy, and neither are their green chilies.

My 2-minute Maggie was done and with a grin, (which was bigger than the grin of the Grinch who stole Christmas) I added three drops of the sauce. As I pour the sauce, am wondering why they have such a small nozzle for the bottle. I mix it well and take it in a bowl and sit opposite my mom, whom I am sure had an eye on me, but acting as though she is hooked to the book. She gave me a glare and said “Night when all of us are having dosa, gun powder and chutney, you better not ask for it. You will need to finish the curd rice which is for you and no one else will have it.” I just nodded happily, since I was happy with my current achievement of winning a battle with my mom and got to eat Maggie, while my brother was eating curd rice.

I looked at her and took my first bite into the yummy Maggie. I could feel a slight burning sensation in my tummy. No way !! not possible. Guess, the burning sensation is as I have not eaten on time. I stood up, went to the kitchen and searched for butter. I added a dollop of butter and mixed it and slowly came back. After all the fiasco, I did not want to react in front of my mom. I took a bite and vola its sorted. Wasn’t that easy?

I ate and took my next bite and slowly I could feel my face turning red and I could feel my ears burning. But I was not ready to accept defeat. I paused for some time and took the next bite. And that was the last straw. I burst like an eruptive volcano, cos honestly by now I was burning all over. The sauce was so hot that three drops was enough to set me out like a wildfire. I started howling and crying. My vison was blurred, could not feel my tongue and lips and could feel smoke coming out of my ears. My mom immediately pulled the Maggie bowl dragged me to the washbasin asked me to rinse my mouth and took a bottle of cold water from the refrigerator and made me gargle.

She ran to the kitchen and picked up the bottle of homemade ghee and rubbed it on my tongue, lip and asked me to sit silently. After about 15 minutes she just looked at me burst laughing and said I was a scene out of Tom and Jerry cartoon and wish she could record it. Well; variety is the spice of life and guess I understood it as spice is life. As I calmed down, my mom handed over a plate of curd rice. My evil plan was to skip one meal of curd rice. I ended up eating curd rice for the whole week

I still did not want to accept defeat. I looked at mom and went “Listen, how should I know a product from US would be so spicy? Especially when major population does not eat even a bit of spice”. My mom could not control her laughter now. “Well, that’s why there are ingredients mentioned in the bottle. Basic common sense is to read it and understand what has been put in it. That’s all to it”

I finally accepted defeat and after this incident, I decided before I bury that bottle, let me check what’s mentioned in the ingredients, which caused me to cry. The sauce had the world’s two spiciest chilly in the ingredient. No wonder the cover of the bottle had a picture of a devil with flames coming out from his mouth and ears. Yet the ignorant or rather know it all me decided to experiment with it.

And with that my dream of eating Maggie stayed a dream for quite sometime till I moved to a hostel during my undergraduate. And yes you can never beat your mom in a battle.