I padded into the kitchen with a listless yawn and looked up at the whiteboard. Under the boldly printed word MENU there were two options listed. Pink and yellow.
Vikas sauntered in, tipped the flakes from the pink box into his cup, topped it with hot water and ate it mechanically, and went into his room to continue his work.
I sat at the table, aimlessly stirring the pink sludge.
When Babbloo came in, I added the pre-mix from the yellow box to a cup of warm water, and plonked it along with a spoon in front of him
He did not have any problem eating it, proving the fact that likes and dislikes were all outcomes of habits.
Finally, after a mouthful, I ditched the gunk and went into the room I shared with Babloo.
He was putting on his earbuds. I switched my laptop on to help him with his lessons. But my mind was not on it and my thoughts flew to the smorgasbord of feelings that the different senses would evoke, back at home.
I asked in a dreamy voice, “Do you know the kind of lifestyle we used to have back at home?”
He looked up at me with amused interest.
“We never had this kind of sludge for food. The variety of eating options was mind-boggling. The day-to-day comfort food of roti-curry-dal-rice. The occasional South Indian indulgences of soft fluffy idlis dunked in flavourful sambar and the crisp dosas with coconut chutney. Then there were the spicy, tangy roadside food, the occasional rich and lavish hotel fares, and the once a year sumptuous feasts during festivals.”
My words slurred with desire. With difficulty I switched on to my parent mode and continued.
“Back home, I had a small kitchen garden that I nurtured. I still remember the lovely fragrances that wafted in from it. The boxes of greens- Mint, coriander, aloe vera, the tiny square piece of yard, filled with tomatoes, chilies, and brinjals and the flowering plants- jasmines, Indian lilies, and the chrysanthemums: all had their own heady aromas.”
Babloo was looking at me attentively, his eyes alight with curiosity.
I continued, “I would work in the garden, and the rest of the day I would be wafting off a mud+manure scent mingled with that of mint. I can’t believe I would head to the bathroom to wash off that fragrance. How I wish I could get one whiff of that smell now.”
Babloo leaned towards me and asked, “What else do you miss from there?”
I thought for a second and continued, “There was a time when I would always grumble about the crowds. The sweaty masses that were a part of life there. On the streets, trains, buses, markets, and bus stops. A never-ending throng that pervaded all walks of life.”
Babloo looked confused. “I don’t understand. What does crowd mean?”
I thought about the friends, neighbors, and relatives. About how they would all drop in with scant respect for privacy. About the penetrating, sometimes irritating personal questions from relatives. The hugs from friends and the way we would hold hands when we walked on the streets. And mom applying oil to my hair. I longed with all my heart to go back home.
Suddenly I realized I was sobbing, my whimpers graduating to howls. I heard a door opening and Vikas strode in. He squatted next to me and put his hands around my shoulders. Babloo watched with concern.
Vikas held me till I stopped weeping.
“Priya, you knew life was going to be like this. We did discuss- these feelings of isolation and remoteness that would crop up. We have volunteered for this as a family. Our sacrifice is going to help science. It’s just for another year and I promise you, we will be back.”
I sniffed, dried my tears and let him go back to his room.
I set some work up for Babloo, and waited till he was absorbed into it.
Then, I went to the doors, opened them and looked out. There was absolutely nothing-Just vast lonely space.
Mars was a desolate planet.
Author Notes
The word smörgåsbord is Swedish and its etymology comes from the words smörgås, meaning “open sandwich” or “buttered bread” and bord meaning “table”. So, the definition of smörgåsbord is literally a table full of open sandwiches.
When it was borrowed into the English language it became more inclusive.
A smorgasbord of things is a number of different things that are combined together as a whole.
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