CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The Hindi word for person is vyakti.
My Mother-in-law to be decided her next duty was to teach me how to be a good housewife. She literally meant the old sense of the word ‘house-wife.' Kishore tried to explain to his Mother that things were completely different in New Zealand and just because I was going to be his wife, it didn’t mean I was going to stay at home and look after the house. Kishore and I had discussed whether we would live with my parents or rent a small flat. The latter was more likely as we longed for our own privacy, despite the fact saving for our own home would become harder. Kishore’s Mother wondered if we lived in a flat with both of us working, who would do the laundry, which she did by hand, the cooking and cleaning? In her mind a man could not be expected to do these things.
Dust is a big factor in Delhi, it settles everywhere. Housewives will wipe surfaces daily and if a family goes away for more than a week dust covers are placed over the furniture and every surface. If this is not done the whole house will be covered in dust upon return. The hiring of a servant is a fairly easy thing to do in India, more so when Kishore’s Mother was little. A young girl or boy from a poor family was happy to work in a house for a small wage. The servant would more likely be a boy and would live with the family and be proud to be earning so he could send money back home to his parents. Wealthy households might have a whole family of servants living with them, who attend to the cooking, cleaning, driving, gardening and other household chores.
Servants were not usually an option in New Zealand during the eighties, so trying to earn, save, pay the bills, attend to all of the housework and look after a baby when it comes along is even harder for young couples.
Kishore told his sceptical Mother that we would manage, cooking could be done in advance in bulk and frozen, which is what he did in his boarding house. He said every house in New Zealand had a washing machine and cleaning could be done together on the weekends. He assured her modern women kept working after they were married. They didn’t stop when they were pregnant and quite often went back to work even after the baby was born.
After all the talk about being a good housewife, I wanted to appease my Mother-in-law so it was decided I would at least learn how to cook some Indian food. I loved to cook and wanted to prepare meals for Kishore I knew he would enjoy. With this in mind, I became an eager student. The first food Mummyji decided to teach me was to make rotis which are served with most meals. Sometimes rice is used as a substitute to rotis - vegetables, dahl or a meat dish are the accompaniments.
Due to India’s large population and the gap between rich and poor, adaptations have been made to serve nutritious meals that are extremely inexpensive. The variety of lentils alone is huge and can be bought in bulk for little expense. Chillies, onions, garlic, ginger and spices are used to add flavour to jazz up the meal – to give it some bite or grit and there are, of course, the medicinal benefits of these spices.
Kishore’s Mum and the other women of the neighbourhood make delicious pickles with lime, lemon, chilli or ginger and enjoy swapping their creations with each other.
Every morning on the footpath outside Kishore’s family home, a street hawker could be heard hollering “Fresh fruit and vegetables – bananas, apples, potatoes.” The hawker waits next to his cart, which is laden with produce while housewives determine what to cook that day by the best price they can get for vegetables from him.
As I stood next to Mummyji her experienced hands easily kneaded the flour and water, which quickly formed into dough, which would be used to make the rotis. She then clicked on the gas for the tawa to heat up. A tawa is made out of heavy black iron and is similar to a frying pan with no sides. Sprinkling a dusting of flour onto her hands she effortlessly shaped the dough into golf sized balls. Picking up her rolling pin she pressed the first ball flat to the size and diameter of a side plate. She repeated this process with each ball, placing them, one by one on the hot tawa. When the bottom begins to cook the roti is flipped. It is supposed to blow up like a balloon when it’s fully cooked, this can be achieved by lightly pressing it with a cloth.
Up until now I had been an observer, handing me the rolling pin Mummyji gestured I could try rolling out the next roti. Ha! My attempts at trying to roll those little balls into neat round circles were hysterical! Square, rectangular, oval, my rotis were anything but round. I knew food was meant to be respected but I could not help picking up a knife and drawing eyes, a mouth and a fin into the dough I was rolling that somehow ended up in the shape of a fish. Even Mummyji had a little chuckle!
The rotis as they’re cooked are piled up one by one. Wrapping them in a cloth keeps them warm until they are ready to be eaten. If a hungry crowd is waiting, fresh rotis are served straight from the tawa. Young children eagerly stand by their Mothers as the enticing smell of the dough toasting wafts through the house. A hungry growing child could eat ten rotis one after the other, spread with a little ghee, clarified butter, which Kishore’s Mum also makes herself, they are absolutely divine, hot and buttery - just scrumptious.
A stuffed roti is created by sprinkling grated onion, potato or cauliflower when rolling the roti, it’s then cooked in the usual way with a little ghee drizzled on the tawa. Stuffed rotis are delicious served with natural yoghurt and are a light meal by themselves. Adding a little sugar when rolling makes a sweet roti, these are welcomed by hungry children after school.
Having always thought yoghurt was something bought at the supermarket, I discovered it could be easily made at home. Kishore’s Mum showed me how simple it was to make, I was really surprised. Yoghurt was definitely something I would be making once I got back to New Zealand.
Additions can always be made to Indian food so it can stretch further. Flour is inexpensive and extremely versatile. When cooking vegetables every part of it is used, nothing is discarded. If an unexpected guest arrives right on dinner time, extra rotis can always be made. Dahl is soupy and can be stretched to feed more mouths.
It didn’t take me long to realise that Mummyji had an ulterior motive while teaching me how to make rotis. She was in fact a truly smart and loveable woman. The two of us enjoyed many laughs while getting to know each other during cooking, creating a wonderful bonding effect. I taught her some easy English words while she in turn attempted to teach me some Hindi words. We laughed at our efforts to pronounce the others language. My attempts at making rotis were hideous but also really funny. Kishore’s Mum knew our time together was short so she insisted on teaching me to cook as well as learn Indian ways, which was her way of getting to know me a little better. While cooking she asked me about my love for Kishore and tried to explain her idea of being a good wife.
With our limited communication I learnt things about Kishore’s childhood that only a Mother has knowledge of. She told me about her marriage to Chandra and the joy she experienced at the birth of her first son. Mummyji told her side of the story when Kishore was left with his Grandma. Unfortunately she became too upset to talk about the six years she spent without him. Although she did recall with a shine to her cheeks, the joy she felt when discovering her next pregnancy.
Kishore’s Mother relished the time we spent together, this gave her time to form her own judgement on whether her future daughter-in-law would fit into her society and be a good wife to her son, regardless of the fact we lived in New Zealand. The eldest daughter-in-law in the family is an important person, as she is married to the eldest son. I knew my capabilities were being tested.