Mamma Mia!

                                               

          Geet was beyond excited for today. It was her dearest Pappa ji’s birthday. Things had been a little off for the both of them since ‘The Incident’. There was always a difference in opinions between Geet and her father. But there was one thing in which their views never collided; and that was food. They were hardcore gastronomes.

          To get things a little in line for her Pappa, his angel had decided to cook a nice lunch dish for him. Though she enjoyed eating food she couldn’t cook it that well. This was the first time she was trying her hand at cooking. The amateur entered the kitchen and started working on the red sauce. She put the ingredients in the pan and waited for the consistency to be the required thick. She took a spoon out and tasted the sauce. Her taste buds enraged! It was just the way she wanted it to be. 

        Whilst she was preparing to serve the red fusilli pasta, Dr. Aluvalia, her father, sat down on the dining table with a straight face. Hurriedly, she finished decorating the plate and walked towards him with a wide smile on her face. She exclaimed, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” The doctor’s face lightened up on seeing his daughter with his favourite dish in her hands. 

 He took a bite of the food. “Mamma Mia,” he said as he took another bite. Bite after bite his plate was wiped clean within a few minutes. In fact, he finished the entire pan without leaving any of the pasta for its cook. Of course, he would. He couldn’t let his gem know that she had forgotten to boil the pasta before putting it in the sauce! 

The Empty Tiffin

     Karan had come home from a tiring day of school. It had been just 5 years since he had started school yet he couldn’t help but loathe it. Maybe it was a universal thing, he thought. As soon as he entered his house, he was greeted with a warm and soothing smile that was of his mother’s. 

     

      “Freshen up quickly,” his mother said with the same smile on her face, “I’ll set the table meanwhile.” Karan was very attached to his mother. They shared a very special bond. His father was a busy man handling his business. He was mostly out of town, working. But he loved the 8-year-old just as much as his significant other did. Karan sat down to have his lunch. It was his favourite dish today – biryani. He sat down and had his biryani peacefully whilst telling his mother everything about his day at school. This was his daily practice. Remember how I told you they shared a special bond? He ate the food but didn’t finish it entirely. He put the leftover in his mother’s plate. His mother was extremely tired of this old habit of his. She never knew why the boy made such a fuss about finishing everything in his plate.  Be it a gallon of soup or just a tiny spoon; he always managed to leave some behind. 

     “Can I ask you just one thing?” she asked the boy in a soft tone.

     “Mhm,” nodded the boy.

    “How come your tiffin doesn’t have any leftover while your plate always does?” she asked, puzzled.

    “That’s simply because I don’t eat alone at school,” he answered with a slight giggle.

    “You must be "The Tiffin Guy' then,” she said managing a giggle too. 

      The little boy assured himself that he had not lied to his mother. He hadn't said a complete lie, know. But only three beings knew the secret of the empty tiffin: Karan and the two dogs outside school.

Save Changes?

     
     There was a long Wednesday ahead of Jyoti. Life had been a rollercoaster for her. She had earned so much more than just wealth in the past three years when she had decided to write for a living. Her stories were rejected by many publishers but her iron will had pushed her to become a successful writer; touching many hearts. The journey she has taken to reach where she was a now had been a rough one.
      Jyoti entered her room and lazily started browsing on her laptop. Whilst going through some files, she found a document, really old. It was labeled ‘The Fable’. The document must have come along when she had transferred all her files from her old PC. The Fable was the first ever story she had written when she was a mere 12 year old. She never really knew she could write until The Fable. It was a story she had written as a young kid for a stupid school project. The little kid back then might not have been as wise as Socrates but was as imaginative as Rowling. She decided to go through that little memory of hers. It revolved around a young caterpillar trying to find its true identity. Jyoti read through the story and could do nothing but laugh. Her writing was so juvenile back then! Her grammar wasn’t that strong and the framing of sentences was poor. At this stage, it barely even qualified as a drunk draft to her. She started correcting all her errors and modifying the story. “Now that’s better,” she giggled to herself after re-reading the not-so-drunk draft. Out of the blue, the doorbell rang.
      She steadily got up to attend the door and clicked the red close button on the top right corner of her screen when a familiar window popped up. “Do you want save changes to ‘The Fable’?” it asked. With a smile on her face and partially in a state of nostalgia, Jyoti clicked ‘No’ instead of the usual ‘Yes’.