kissa kaddu ka

8/13/2019 Kissa Kaddu Ka

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The Pumpkin Perils (Kissa kaddu ka)

We had just moved in to our fourth rented apartment in the past three years. We had to perpetually

move from one rented apartment to another, either of our own violation or whatsoever good reason

the landlords proffered. A few days after settling down and finalizing the numerous walas the essential

cogs in the wheels of the city life, Paperwala, milkwala, dhobiwala, cablewala and so on, it was knowthy neighborstime. My better-half being also being better in such matters volunteered in this

endower.

There were just four 2BHK flats per floor. There was one bang opposite ours, and two on to the left of

each. I happened to notice some sexy looking ladies footwear in the shoe rack bang opposite our flat. An

old Hindi film song appeared in the audio popped up in my mind, jiski joothi itni sundar woh kitnee

sundar hogiwoh kitnee sundar hogi. Curiosity is such a catty thing, would it kill me I wondered.

That evening over the cuppa chai, I sidled up next to my wife, and gently steered the conversation to the

neighbors, she quickly warmed up and started reeling out the details, Ok here we go, the families on our

immediate left are the Raos. Mr. Rao is a branch manager in the Chandanagar SBI bank. Mrs.Rao is your

quintessential house wife, her home is her world. Three daughters, studying in the Delhi public school

nearby. The eldest is keerthi in class eight, the second girl is..I let her go on humoring her with hmm and

haws, no way could I interrupt her while she went on about the girls descriptions their likes and dislikes.

Oh I see, I prompted, and now in the flat opposite to the Raos was the retired old couple the Guptas.

Their only son settled in the heaven on earth the US of Aofcousre. I heard her out patiently. The boy

did his MBA from IIM Ahmadabad and blah blah blah. I grinned and heard it out with a feigned interest.

What about the door opposite our, I gently prompted. No Idea, the door is always shut throughout the

day she retorted with disdain, considering it to be a personal insult breaching the general good neighbor

code. I suddenly found something very interesting on the idiot box, a ruse not to raise any suspicion

about my disappointment in not knowing about the beautiful lady opposite door. Before you jump to

question how I know she is beautiful?, well I told you the foot wear gave me the clue.

Well now that I had this odd ball job that would take me out of town every now and then, my wifes first

priority was check out if there was any yours friendly neighborhood spidey around to do the odd jobs

around during my absence. She usually finds one, so far no luck.

Days passed by as we settled down, and we got into the routine of the daily humdrum. One fine Sunday

morning there was a knock on our door, I was busy engrossed in the daily news paper, I almost finished

reading the paper from first page to the last, including the matrimonial column, I felt obliged to squeeze

out every paisa worth of the two rupees paper dutifully. My wife grudgingly came out of the kitchen toopen the door wondering, who it could be. There stood the pretty young girl, with the most disarming

smile, hi aunty she trilled, I am Kaadambari your opposite door neighbor, she introduced herself. Gosh

babe, you just committed the most sacrilegious sin possible, calling my young wife aunty. Now itsgoing

to be an uphill task to redeem yourself I groaned to myself. Ok, damage control time. Hi please come in,

I invited her, I am Kumar.. Saaai Kumar, I grandiosely introduced myself a la Bond.. Jaaames Bond, style.

I seriously believed that women dig guys with a good sense of humor. And this is my wife Senorita


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Sunita. Smart girl she got the hint and said Sunita Akka, can I borrow your hair dryer please mine seems

to be broken, she asked with a cho cutehelpless puppy look. Oh no problem at all, what are neighbors

for, said my wife , and brought out her recently acquired Philips XZ720 sleek model. Kaadambari quietly

left promising to back in a jiffy.

The jiffy turned out to be a couple of hours. She came back with the hair dryer and a friendship offeringof the curry she cooked in a bowl. Akka please check out the new recipe I tried, its stuffed green peas

and corn bell pepper dish she said. Oh wow exclaimed my wife, and they went off into a discussion on

their respective culinary skills. I quietly sneaked off to do a Google check, as bell pepper rang no bell, for

all I knew was black pepper and green pepper. Wondering how the green peace jokers got involved in

this corny pepper saga.

A ten minute intense research latter I went back to join the ladies in their discussion, with sufficient

knowledge of the bell pepper. Too late, the discussion had moved on to the beauty parlors and other

woman to woman talk. I tried to eavesdrop, but the topics were adamantly inscrutable to an Adams

ear. So I reluctantly got engrossed in the news channel, putting on airs of a concerned intellectual on

world affairs.

An hour later after Kaadambari left, we sat down for lunch, I did relish the stuffed bell peppers, but was

cautious in praising it for obvious reasons. My wife gave me the low down on the girl; she was the third

daughter of Mr. Chennadorai of Chennai. As she got this job here in Hyderabad in a reputed BPO, she

moved here a few months back and her landlord was a close friend of her father, so the rent was

discounted. She mostly works in the night shift, and sleeps by the day, this Sunday happens to her

weekly off.

The curry exchange became weekly affair both ladies competed in a one up womanship. One particular

dish by Kaadambari was the hot and sweet Pumpkin curry, with chunks of pumpkins cooked withjaggery. I did really relish it. Well she seems to be good girl this Kadduwhat do you say I asked my

wife, the sharp piercing stare I got from her, made me bite my tongue, I mean kaaadambaaari what an

ancient sounding name I shortened it to kaddu I quipped defensively, but she makes real good kaddu

curry na. Oh I see, is all she replied calmly. And before she could say anymore the ringing phone saved

me from whatever was in store that day.

Hello Anna its me Ramu, remember me? Hmm a classic catch 22 situation, now who the hell could this

guy be? Instead of beating around the bush, I used my time tested reply, Sorry wrong number thatdid

the trick, Anna it is me Gummadikayala Shivasankara Ventakavaraprasada Rambabu. Son of your

maternal uncle, Oh I got you I interrupted before he could reel of his fathers name thats about twice aslong as his. Who can forget you raa you used to gobble up all the weeks stock of sweets in our house as

a kid. So where are calling from? Anna guess what I recently got a job in Hyderabad and I am living ten

minutes walk from your apartments only Anna. Oh I groaned, and I shifted here hardly a month back.

Anna I am working in TCS. I am a little busy Anna so sorry Anna I will be able to make to your house only

on this coming Sunday for dinner Anna. Wow he just invited himself saving me the trouble, and

disconnected before I could even think of an excuse.


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By Sunday evening He promptly arrived well in time by six p.m for the dinner. It was quite some years

since I last saw him; He was still a bit rotund like a pumpkin, talkative but jovial kind of guy. Preliminary

introductions done, He took us through a vivid detailed summary of his journey from his schooling thru

college to his present job in TCS as a team lead. He was staying in a boys hostel, nearby. How is the food

my wife ventured to ask in general, and he went off into a short synopsis for the next 30 minutes. By

end of his narration, my wifes sympathies were well cemented and set in concrete.

Suddenly dinner was announced, if hogging like a pig sounds clichd so be it, thats what he did. Soon

tra-la-la it was dessert time, guess what it was my wifes famous kaddu ka halwa, by the time I finished

my small serving he too finished the entire dish that normally lasts for a couple of days at our home. A

load burp was the beginning of the praises, hymns, ode, kirtana, or whatever one can call it, by the new

found brother in law for his Vadina. Are my eyes paying tricks or do I really see a halo glowing around

her head by the time he was finished with his praises esp: for the kaddu ka halwa. With promises of

visiting soon again he left with a heavy heart and a heavier stomach.

One fine Sunday, I happened to bump into Kaadambari, in the elevator, she was just returning from the

weekly shopping lugging a plastic carrybag full of vegetables, and yes there was her favorite Kaddu. We

got chatting, and I praised her kaddu ka curry, not to mention the poriyal, aviyal, kolambu, kootu and all

those heavenly Madrasi cooking. I could see her Tamil pride rise up and boil over like the aromatic

sambaar she occasionally gives us. She was overwhelmed by my interest and proceeded to enlighten me

on how to select a good kaddu For cooking, you may want a pumpkin that is heavy for its size. The

lighter ones are drier, with a bigger open space in the middle. For the most part, stay away from the

large pumpkins when selecting a pumpkin for eating. I stored up this trivia for future retrieval, and

thanked her.

Ramu my good old bro became a regular fixture at the dining table on Sunday evenings, plying my wife

with his praises for the kaddu ka halwa, while she plied him with ladle after ladle of the same. Ah by the

way she found the your friendly neighborhood spideytoo. He would run errands, be the handy man,

pay the bills, and regularly bring groceries, vegetables not to forget the kaddus I suspect he had his

vested interest, or should we say waisted interests?

Then the inevitable happened, subconsciously I started hating kaddu ka halwa, and being a diabetic did

not help. Slowly the squabbles started and tiny disagreements ended up as loud arguments about the

Kaddu. Kaadambaris plying us with Kaddu sweet and sour curry only made things worse, as she did not

forget to mention that I loved her curry every time she met my wife.

Another disaster that was waiting to happen did happen, one Sunday noon while the spidey was at ourhouse for lunch Kaadambari came in with her customary kaddu ka curry. Introductions made, they got

into a heated debate on what should be the final Moksha of the kaddu, halwa or curry. While me and

my wife had to seek refuge in the TV. Finally after an hour they agreed to disagree. Ditto between me

and my wife.

Sometimes the almighty works in mysterious ways, miracles do happen, Spideys visits became erratic,

often he would not turn up citing being busy or having to work overtime in office. My wife lost interest


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in cooking, and would rustle up insipid meals. Kaadambari too would get ready and be out for most part

of the Sundays coming home late at night.

Relation between me and my wife started getting strained and uneasy. Something must be done and

fast. So the Sunday night I announced to my wife, dear I am taking you out for dinner to the new

authentic Andhra restaurant they opened recently. She reluctantly agreed as she did no cooking thatday. It was an impressive restaurant, ethnic ambience, candle light, we slowly walked about looking for a

cozy table for two, aah there I spied a vacant one towards the corner, with just a young couple lost to

the world. Their table laden with bowls filled with Kaddu ka halwa, and Kaddu ka curry. Another mystery

solved, I watched my wifes face as a myriad of emotions played out, and she turned towards me with a

mischievous grin slowly spreading across her face. Alls well that ends well.

kissa kaddu ka

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