“They are special and I am seeing a few of them after many a decades,” I told Radha. She promptly retorted, “If the meet was the next day why worry now? Just ask Sundar da what would they prefer to eat?”
“Organize anything, Chinese or Indian,” as I shouted over a recalcitrant phone line. My worries were over, as I had delegated the problems.
Rain lashed Kolkata on Friday evening as I had another distress call: “I may have to change all menus if there be rains tomorrow too! The dinner hall would have to be shifted down as well in case of rains.” Radha was on the line doing the fine tuning. Chinese dinner was finally chosen, with the ever seductive curd rice and more milagai, narthailai podi accompaniments, to keep with the Indian-ness. In a way I was crafty to impose my choice and tastes Surprisingly my proposal was conceded without a fight or even a mild argument. I was suspecting as to what hidden trap it had led myself into! Finding no clue I had to wait for the day break on the D Day.
The children chipped in the moment Chinese spread was chosen for the evening. They were aware of the taste and type from Chinoiserie of Taj, Mainland China and Red Hot Chilli pepper. In the pretext of testing out others close-by, sample orders were placed on Hong Kong Express, near my home and after relishing till the last strand of noodle and the last grain of rice, with an assortment of vegetables, plates dry cleaned by our Scooby and Choco duo, the children declared that the quality was no match to Mainland China. The food supplier was finally chosen.
“Can you cancel the curd rice?” The call was shocking for me. It was like having a boarding pass and not being allowed to board an aircraft. I asked in a weak voice, “Why?”
“The second fridge has passed out. If you remember I have been telling you that the mechanic had warned during his last service that it was useless to service it any further and had to be replaced.” Middle-of the –month-blue bit me, as I meekly asked, “What could be the damages?” “I am ALREADY in South city Mall and here is a good offer; It is a new LG model with enough room; and yes! We can even store the special curd rice,” Radha indeed knew how to strike the iron while it is hot and overcome my typical bureaucratic boulders. The new fridge costing a cool 37000 rupees landed at my place, even before I returned…all for a plateful of curd rice, which I would relish. I could have raised the issue of the other fridge, and apprehended a barrage of counter issues, on the space the wines and beer occupy in it. I needed a smiling and cheerful hostess during the visit of my friends.
I called Sundar, who promptly as a doctor, caught on to my distressed throat, further mauled by the thought of non-plan expenditure in the middle of the month and suggested various solutions. He had no telepathic thermometer to know I could have developed a mild temperature as well.
I could not miss out visit to my factory on Saturday and was already late in my return. My cellphone rang, and when I saw the caller to be my wife, my heart started palpitating. “Could you get some potato wedges? Do come back fast, it is already late.” It was available at a distant store and resulted in a detour of about 20 kilometers and a whole hour. I had to oblige. Resilience and agreement at crucial times was key to the success, I had learnt from some management guru!
As I was entering I asked her,” What about the AC in the terrace? Is it functioning properly?” My ever vigilant wife confirmed that she has already informed the mechanic who would arrive any moment then. “But it may be a good idea to change the AC after all,” Radha suggested at her usual opportune moment. As an habitual selective hearer, I ignored, as I peeped out to see God taking sympathetic towards me and sparing us of any rain.
The humidity was a spoilsport and I was doing the final touches to the bar, the primary and ultimate meeting place for the thirsty stags. My throat surprisingly cleared and my body temperature was better than normal!
Harihara Subramanian was the first to arrive, followed by Dr.Sekhar and Dr. Sundar. We did a formal inauguration of our dispenser, with the first doses of the amber liquids. Soon the gang gathered and the meet got spirited, with distilled, brewed, fermented and fresh juices.
My heart jumped in joy as I heaved a sigh of relief on seeing the curd rice with the promised accompaniments of more milagai and nartha elai podi. We had a wonderful after dinner single malt tasting for the connoisseurs and the final bell rang well after midnight. I relished and adored every moment of the four and half hours, which fled like a few minutes.
As I hit the bed after minimal clean-up around 1.30 am, my pampered throat nudging me to sleep, I whispered to Radha, “Thank you.” She was already asleep!