U is for Uma
He loved kheer. That was the first dish she had
cooked for him when she had married him 42 years back.
“Bahu you have to make something sweet. It is a shagun,”
her mother-in-law had instructed her.
A shy Uma had offered to cook Kheer. And he had loved it.
Taken 3 helpings as she had looked at him from the corner of her eyes. God
knows how devoted she had been to him all these years. Everyone around them
could see it too.
“Mukul bhai you are lucky to have Uma as your wife!”
“Moti daan kiye honge jo asis biwi mili.”
He had been a good husband too. Never uttered a harsh
word-not even on the night when they learnt that she could not bear him any
children. He had hugged her, “We are a family. We complete each other.”
Her eyes brimmed with tears as she stirred in the sugar in
the kheer. She chopped the pistas as the kheer simmered.
She washed and gently wiped the fresh rose petals. Most
days he would gobble it down hot but some days he would wait patiently for it
cool in the fridge. He loved it when she served the cold kheer in a bowl
garnished with pista and rose petals.
She looked at him tenderly as he stared blankly out of the
window. He had been confined to his bed for 12 years. 12 long years since the
stroke. Last 6 months had been a nightmare. Most days he struggled with her
name and some days he did not even recognize her. But last night he was lucid- “Uma
make some kheer for me tomorrow.”
Hence the kheer today. She sat next to his bed with
the bowl. She sprinkled the powder – she had crushed 12 sleeping tablets-one
for each year- on the kheer and mixed it gently. She then sprinkled pistas
and the rose petals.
She gently turned his face and looked into his eyes. Her
eyes brimmed as she lifted a spoon and gently fed him.
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