One Royal Falooda and one Mango Melba. She ate it all and then shamelessly asked me to blog about it. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Rashna Maneckshaw — my mother-in-law, the glutton.
Speaking of which, some months ago, we were went for a very important lunch with a Jain family. The kind over which relationships are cemented. We had strict instructions to not talk about two things — the family’s love of meat and meat. We were also instructed to speak in Hindi, as far as possible.
After the uncomfortable silences, mother got into her element and started yapping in English. When our mother gets comfortable, she starts verbalising her internal monologue. I sent her an SMS saying: Speak in Hindi. XX is feeling left out.
She looks at the phone after half-an-hour and goes: One SMS from Tatya! Why are you sending me an SMS? I’m right here!
As the food was served, the lady of the house apologised for the simple fare and said she didn’t know what to make since she didn’t know our tastes.
Mom says: “Arre! XX keeps talking about your food. She says it’s so good, it tastes just like non-veg.”
As soon as we left the house, I let go: “MOM! Did you have to be yourself?”
Mom: “I knew you were going to shout at me! You should have told me what to talk about.”
Us: “But we did!”
Mom: “Hey! Now you can blog about this.”
So I did.