Leap of Faith

Curiosities & side effects

I took in the vastness as I entered the kitchen. Once old structure now remade into a different array of drawers, kitchen tops, counters and display cutlers. After weighing my options and half an hour consultation with Shweta on the phone, I finally settled on Dum Biryani and Raita. I was not so sure of myself, neither was Shweta. She had always been the better Cook. Now she was enjoying the premarital meeting with Nikhil's parents at London, and here I was trying to make the most complicated Biryani.

On the brighter side, Riya was there with me boosting my morale. Because all she knew, was how to operate a gas burner. The personal chef, an attractive man in his thirties, helped with all the ingredients.

"Where did you learn to make a Dum Biryani?" Riya asked while tying the kitchen apron.

"Shweta taught me; she makes it chef style. I have always been her assistant when making a grand dinner," I explained chopping the mint leaves.

"I guess she will make Nikhil a happy person," she giggled. "He is a real foodie."

"Oh no. She is lazy too. Always needs to be pushed," I said. "What kind of person is Nikhil?"

"Oh. Nikhil is sweet. Loving and caring types. Not like Aayan, always annoyed," she commented twisting the corner of her lips.

"That's true. Your brother's mood swings are hard to cope up," I laughed and got back to chopping onions.

"And he hates small talk. Never will you find him asking about the weather. He always orders," Riya added.

I laughed nodding and got back to preparing the marinating the chicken. Riya was intently watching asking hundreds of questions on everything in the recipe.

"You know Trisha when Papa was alive mom used to make dinner every day. Now that he is gone, and practically nobody lives here, she had lost the interest," she commented, thoughtfully.

"Now you are back," I smiled.

"Yeah. You are here too. Maybe things in this family will get back to the old times."

"I hope too!" I exclaimed. "What about your dad? Was he a foodie?"

"Oh Papa, he had his moods, sometimes he would be a real family person, always going around mom and us, other times Papa used to be so engrossed in his work that he forgets to eat or sleep," she remembered, leaving a smile on her face.

"Literally?" I asked bewildered.

"Yup. Especially when writing his journals. He used to sit for twenty hours straight, writing his new idea or his thought process or even reading a book. And mind you, nobody was allowed to disturb him," she said twisting the coriander leaves in her hand.

"I can imagine!" I replied. Suddenly an idea struck me. Something inside me was told to keep going with the current topic. "Tell me, was he always like that? Engrossed in his work and not talking to any of you?"

"No actually, when I was little, he used always to find time for us. He took us trips every year. But after my high school started, he became too oblivious of us. Always drowned in work!"

"Time when Vikram started to look into business?" I asked tentatively, forming some equation in my mind.

"Maybe a year after that. But why are you asking like that?" Riya replied with a question.

"Just curious," I smiled turning my attention to the boiling water in the large pot. I added black pepper, black cardamoms, cinnamon, and bay leaves with oil in the boiling water. I stirred the mixture for long minutes smelling it. When the spices were leaving an aroma, I added the basmati rice.