Travails of a Tawa

TRAVAILS OF A TAWA

Sabita Radhakrishna

With the era of splurging come into age, even people who are not compulsive shoppers feel the need to spend when they roam the malls and shopping centres. I am not one of those who will "shop till I drop" not even in Dubai. No way. But when I am surrounded by those who use friendly persuasions, purportedly, for my own good, I think I do get bamboozled into buying and have lived to regret the occasional rash decision. Travelling economy class rewards you with limited baggage allowance, so I set out with a firm resolve not to buy a thing. We visited one of the new malls, and I kept grumbling that the potti kadais we had back home years ago had so much character compared to the glitzy malls which sold the same old things in different packaging. I was accompanied by my mother, an inveterate shopper, and my husband who is terribly anti-shopping. Balanced precariously between two opposites was yours truly, trudging along, my mother at my elbow with a gleam in her eye pointing to this and that, remarking how useful these things would be in my home.

Our first stop was the IKEA shop. I love to visit this place irrespective of my resolve. Originally in Deira City Centre, it closed in 2005 to a re-opening of the store four times bigger and housed at the Dubai Festival City. Picture frames, tableware, and soft cotton towels from IKEA blends right in with the furnishings. The idea behind IKEA is to help you fulfill your own ideas in decorating your home by offering a wide range of well designed, functional furniture and accessories for the home. At prices you'll find surprisingly affordable. With their origins in Sweden you can find the style you prefer from modern to rustic fabrics, sheets, furniture, beds, lamps, rugs in all sorts of colors and patterns that match like a dream.

The gleaming steel and chrome kitchens with different combinations, the island kitchens with their impeccable lighting, and wall strung stands to accommodate those snazzy little jars which can hold tempering ingredients or masala powders….lure you…. I took deep sighs and wished I was 20 years younger with my zest for immaculate housekeeping combined with aesthetics. Of course 20 years ago there was the question of affordability.

My legs having faced grevious injury would not allow me to keep pace with my enthusiasm. I wearily sink into an upholstered chair in the furniture section. "Look but don't touch" is a principle you can forget when you come to IKEA. "Lie down on our beds. Try out our chairs. Compare prices and measurements. Make yourself at home. After all, your home could be just like this."

"Comfortable isn't it ma'am?" asks the helpful salesgirl. "Before you decide I would advise you to try the one here, it's really top class." I nod my head and smile, put on my best grimace just in case she hustles me out of the section for having made a visilble dent in the upholstery. Mother and I gratefully follow the arrows to the exit and all the while, she tells me that the tawa she set her sights on would have been so useful, and such heavy cast iron pieces are not easily available in India. Wearily I sit on the first chair I find in the restaurant. Would an angel bring me a sandwich? My mother mentions the tawa to me again. Husband overhears and yells, "why don't you girls go and get it if it is that important." I hardly feel a girl and certainly don't feel gigglish.

I hold my mother and waddle towards the lift. We reach the tawa section after a search, and yes there it is beckoning. My mother eagerly claims it and I notice her arm sags. I take it from her and realize it weighs a ton. Actually it is not a tawa at all , it is a glorified frying pan, with a handle equally heavy. In no mood to change my mind I lug it sheepishly to the entrance while husband waits. Gallantly he takes the thing from me and says "Ouch!" Once home, I hide it under my bed.

As luck would have it, I hear friend Asha is leaving for Chenni for just 10 days. Her husband has gone before her and she is carrying just a sling bag. I ask Asha if she would take the tawa. She agrees most spontaneously. We are invited for tea at her cousin's place and she tells me to bring it over. We enjoy the tea, but one look at her face tells me it is bad news. " I will take the thing home and weigh it,aunty, but if I am overweight or rather if my luggage is, I will have to leave it here for someone else to bring. You see I am also carrying Sanju's golf paraphernalia, so I am very sorry. But there is a chance I might take it. Asha is one of those sweet young things who would do anything for an aunt even if it means inconvenience.

My son has been invited for dinner by two of his American colleagues and of course he has been told he has to bring his visiting family to meet them. Asha drops us off at the classy hotel, where you cannot lug a heavy tawa or carry it in a plastic bag. I leave the thing in Asha's car and feebly attempt a "please try to take it to Chennai dear," Asha flashes her brilliant smile before she leaves.

Two days later we telephone and find out Asha has left, minus the tawa. My daughter- in-law Anu calls Sanju (who has returned alone) rather desperately, requesting him to bring the tawa home before we catch the flight. Sanju assures us that he will, and he forgets the whole thing. Anu makes one last desperate bid to collect the tawa.. After a series of calls she learns that the thing has been passed on to Krishna and Astrid's home since it is nearer ours. Anu makes a trip to their home only to be told that it did not reach them. By now I am sick of the tawa and decide to bequeath it to Anu with all my love. "Oh no, ma," she says "not for me, I don't need such things, I have one too many here." I suspect she fears her arm might get disclocated when she attempts to wash it.

As the plane takes off from Dubai airport I am relieved to travel tawa-less and wish the new owner the best of luck. Asha returns to Dubai, and is full of remorse that the thing got left behind. She teaches at my grandson's school and the good natured Aditya promises to carry it home if she reaches it to him. Asha is rushing for a teachers meeting and requests the peon to hand it over to Aditya. The peon grumbles a bit as he is carrying the thing to Aditya's class. "A parcel for Aditya", he announces. Aditya who? There are about 3 Adityas in the class and just then my Aditya visits the loo, so no claimants. Back goes the tawa to the teachers room. Next day Asha is aghast that the thing is still lying there propped up against the wall. Anxious to avoid foot injuries and accidents, she decides to hand it over herself and manages to catch the right Aditya as he is walking towards the bus. His little arm sags and it keeps bumping into his legs as he tries to balance his heavy load of books and the thing as he heads home from the bus stop He groans and sighs as he reaches it home. Anu finds his legs covered with bruises where the thing kept bumping into him.

Back home I recount the tawa tale to Asha's aunt Rajam. She lets out a scream. "You mean you trust these children with this sort of thing? I had taken some podis to Asha's place to be handed over to my daughter. It didn't reach my daughter, but a visiting maid from Asha's mom-in-law thought it was for them, and whisked the bottles away and was praised for suddenly making excellent sambars and vatha kozhambus…I assure you it will be plain luck if the tawa reaches you…..."

Two months later our son is arrives in Chennai. He reaches in the early hours of the morning but is bright as a button. We are each bleary eyed but try to match his smiles. "Ma I have something for you!" And even in my state of half sleep I know what it is.

The tawa or frying pan is lying in the pantry. My maid used it to give my knees oil formentations by heating cloth pads dipped in ayurvedic oil.. She believed that this way it will get seasoned (the tawa not my legs) I believe her. It is six months now and it still lies in all its glory in the pantry. "Too heavy to wash," remarks my maid.

I might just try frying cutlets tomorrow, and make Ma happy that she persuaded me to buy it…..