A Hundred Flukes

Chapter 33: From Lucknow With Love

          "No way, never in this poor life." she declared with a mighty shake of her head.       "My potato life will not chew bitter guard again. My jalebi will not have a diabetic version."

"Don't make jalebis then."

"That's not happening."

"Swallow the overdose of pride Khushi, this is our only chance." Payal persuaded her sister holding her hand in hers.

"I have two legs, two hands, two eyes, two ears, one mouth, one nose, one stomach...."

"Cut that."

"WHAT?" her eyes fell out of their sockets. "You want me to cut my stomach?"

"I want you to cut the bullshit." said Payal getting impatient.

"What I mean is, this cannot be our last chance, not till I am breathing fine."

"You aren't, right now anyway. Listen Khushi, we have been going places since two days. Begging and pleading in front of shop owners to taste our samples and all we have earned is 'we have our cooks', 'we don't need anyone', 'please excuse' and even blank stares. It was you who suggested this place, I told you it was out of our means but you were adamant. And now by Devi Maiyya's grace we even got lucky. We cannot step back Khushi not now." she tried to reason.

"Why not, we haven't signed a contract with them yet." she hissed and turned to the manager. "We are sorry sir but we are not willing to take this contract." she told him.

"No Sir we are willing. Please ignore what my sister says."

"Jiji."

"Shut up."

"Hey Devi Maiyya."

"Khushi remember we have to help Babuji and Buaji too. They now depend on you, us." said Payal softly.

Khushi shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "You are good at emotional atyachar(blackmail) jiji." she sighed.

Musings of Khushi Kumari Gupta

Potato is potato, it should always be potato. It should not change even if people think it makes them fatter. My resolve was to never see Laad Governor's constipated face again, it should remain like that. It should not have changed at any cost, but you Devi Maiyya you really enjoy messing with my life, you love playing games with me all the time, when I had warned you, DO NOT. People don't take me seriously, even you don't take me seriously, and hell even readers don't take my character seriously. Why what's wrong with me? What's wrong with my prayers? I tell you what you did.

Today was a bright Sunday morning, and bright means hot. Jiji and I took phone numbers and addresses, then we visited shops plastering the silliest fake smiles, I even made a couple of jingles to advertise but you know I am a bad singer, remember how the priest in Lucknow used to shrink his nose whenever I wanted to sing your 'Arti'. So yeah, where was I? Selling, yes. And stout, plump and fat uncles sat on counters. Their bellies looked as if they could hold all the items on display inside them at once. But I stopped myself from telling this to them. All we asked was very politely to taste our sweets, give us one chance, we'd provide them with best Lucknavi sweets. What did fatty uncles say? They said No Vacancy. EN-O No. Soon we had struck off all names. Then this last one remained. From Lucknow With Love, it is a renowned sweet mart in Delhi, you know situated in a wealthy locality, a Hollywood movie inspired name, a stylish exterior and a very un-fatty uncle behind a wooden counter. He looked at us, yawned, heard our first sentence, shook his head and said "No salesgirls please."

Jiji gave me that 'I told you so' look and how much I hate it when she does that. I was not about to back off yet, I said one hundred and forty three 'pleases' and finally un-fatty uncle tasted a Barfi. He even ummed, I wasn't surprised, why be unnecessarily boringly, faking modest when I know I cook well? But what did he say, "We'll see. Not now. We have a specialized cook and he is in popular demand, but I will let you know if we have something for you." We gave him our phone number and were about to leave when his phone rang and we heard his side of the conversation. "What do you mean by he's sick? Like he's really sick? Oh no, oh shit, oh crap. Like that sick? Like why is he so sick now? What will we do now? We can't lose this contract Bhaiyya, it's precious and prestigious.