Break Fast?

Imlie was used to praise from everyone when it came to her cooking. She knew she cooked well. She knew most people liked her cooking. Her Moti Roti was world famous. In fact, anything she made was praised.

The only person who seemed to have a problem with her cooking, was one Aryan Singh Rathore. Her very own Akkad Bagga.

He’d eaten food made from her hands only one time. After they had left Pagdandiya, and before they had reached Delhi.

But he’d been hungry then. Sick and hungry. That phrase came to mind then, whenever she thought of him eating the food then, ‘A hungry man can’t see right or wrong. He just sees food.’

That day he’d been hungry and he’d eaten to sate his hunger.

But never after that he had eaten anything she had made.

Today, in fact, he left the table without eating any of the Aloo-Puri she had made.

Imlie was sulking. She wanted his praise, and while she knew it may never come from her work, as she kept disappointing him left and right, she wanted him to at least praise her for the one thing everyone else had.

Everyone loved her cooking, even his mother and his sister.

And that gave her the idea. 

She immediately found Arpita, grabbed her arm, dragged her to the kitchen and asked her, conspiringly, “Aaj ABP breakfast table chod ke chale gaye rahe, thik hai. Par Arpita Didi, humka maalum hi naahi hai ki uuka breakfast maan kaa pasand hai? Hum agar uuki manpasand ki cheez banaye rahe, toh shayad uu breakfast kar le.(Today ABP left the breakfast table, okay. But Arpita Didi, I do not know, what does he like for breakfast? If I make something he likes, maybe then he’ll have breakfast.”

Arpita looked at this stupid and oblivious girl. She thought Aryan didn’t like her ‘cooking’, but she didn’t understand Aryan didn’t like ‘her’ cooking. She thought that Aryan wasn’t eating because he didn’t like what she had made, but she didn’t realise that Aryan didn’t like that she had made that for someone specific.

Seriously, Arpita thought, between her UNB and this Jungli of his, it would be a long time before the train even left the station, let alone reach the station of love.

She chuckled at her own thoughts, and at Imlie’s confused gaze, replied, “Aru ka toh tumhe pata hai na, jab uska mann karta hai, tab woh khaata hai, jab nahi karta, tab nahi khaata. Tum uski chinta mat karo.(You know Aru, right, he eats when he feels like it, doesn’t when he doesn’t. You don’t worry about him.)”

But Imlie shook her head sideways, her eyes widening comically, and responded, “Arey! Humka uuki chinta naahi hai, bilkul naahi. Uuki chinta kare humri payal. Humka chinta iss baat ki hai ki uu humre haath ka bana khaana aisan kaisan ingore kare sakat hai. Aapko yaad rahe, uu humre haath ki World Famous in Pagdandiya Curry Chaawal bhi naahi khaaye rahe. Toh, hum soche, ki agar hum uuki pasand ka kachu banaye, toh… Aap baat samjhi Didi?(Oh please! Me, worried about him, not at all. My anklet could worry about him for all I care. I worry that he ignores anything I cook, like how could he? You remember, he didn’t eat my Word Famous in Pagdandiya Curry Rice also. So, I thought if I make something he likes… You understand Di?)”

Arpita almost face-palmed at this. Aryan was right, she thought, this girl is really a Gadhi.

She shook her head sideways, a secretive smile on her face, wanting to know how this would end, she replied, “Thik hai. Waise ghar pe toh joh bhi banta hai woh khaa hi leta hai, par usse naa woh English Breakfast bahut pasand hai. Like, you know, Pancakes, yaa fir French Toast. Sandwiches aur Omelette, yeh sab. Par usko Parathe bhi pasand hai, Aloo ke aur Mooli ke, bina butter ke, par Ghee chalega. Dhokle, aur Uttapam bhi, woh joh full on Mirch-Masala maar ke banta hai na woh.(Okay. So, at home, he eats whatever has been made, but he likes all the English Breakfast items. Like, you know, Pancakes, or French Toast. Sandwiches and Omelettes too. But he also likes Parathas, stuffed with Potatoes and Radishes, not with butter, but Ghee works. Dhoklas, and Uttapam too, those spicy ones, stuffed.)”

And Imlie’s eyes widened. She realised she had not thought this through. while she could make Parathas, and Dosas, and Dhoklas, she certainly had no idea about Pancakes, and French Toast.

One step at a time Imaliya, she thought to herself, let’s make what you know first, and then go forward.

She looked back at Arpita to see a secretive smile on her face. Arpita just nodded at her and chuckled and left her alone. This brother and sister always seemed to know more than they showed.

Tomorrow, she would start and get The Aryan Singh Rathore to eat food made by her hands.

With that resolve in mind, she waited for the next day.

Day-1

Imlie had made Mooli(Radish) Parathas, playing it safe. She knew how to make them, and she knew he liked them.

She set them along with Butter and Ghee on the breakfast table, providing everyone with a choice. She then called everyone out. After all the ‘Good Mornings’ and ‘Aaiye naa NarmadaJi baithiyes(Come sit NarmadaJi)’ were done, she waited for him to come.

And he came to a similar way as he had the day before. He came all Mr. Fast Forward and threw his jacket to hang off his chair, the head chair, and sat down on it. Not waiting for anyone, she saw as he opened the dish to discover Mooli Parathas. His eyebrow, the uninjured one, quirked at that and he served one to himself. She watched as he took the Ghee she had placed beside the dish and applied half a spoon to the Paratha.

Just as he was tearing off the Paratha to take a bite, Pankaj spoke, “Arey, aaj tune Mooli ke Parathe banaya hai Imlie beta. Shabaash. Tu aa gayi hai, toh bus khaane ka mazaa hi badh gaya hai.(Oh, today you’ve made Radish Parathas Imlie beta. Amazing. Since you’ve come back, the food has become tastier.)”

It forced her to take off her eyes from him for one moment to smile at Pankaj for the acknowledgement, but as soon as she looked back at him he was standing up, taking his jacket off the back of the chair and leaving while saying, “Maa, mujhe bhukh nahi hai. Main raaste mein coffee pee loonga.(Mom, I’m not hungry. I’ll have coffee on the way.)”

Thankfully before he could leave, Narmada frowned, “Aru! Aise kaise beta. Baith naastha kha lena.(Aru! Why? Sit, have breakfast.)”

Aryan shook his head sideways and said, “I have a breakfast meeting, main wahan khaa loonga. Aap khaaiye, Imlie ke banaaye, Mooli ke Parathe.(I have a breakfast meeting, I’ll eat there. You eat, Radish Parathas, made by Imlie.)”

And the problem was, Imlie knew better, she knew that last sentence was a taunt, hinting at something she didn’t understand.

She sighed and looked as he left.

She continued to look as Aditya sat down on his chair, applied a slice of butter on the Paratha on his plate, and ate contently, not even bothering to ask anything about a serving already on his plate.

She failed at her first try.

Day-2

Today, she had tried her hands at one of the English Breakfasts Arpita had mentioned that Aryan liked. Pancakes. She had scoured the internet for a working recipe, found hundreds of them, and tried her hands at some of the steps of the ones she understood the most.

She had also arranged honey, maple syrup and chocolate syrup to go along with it.

She had taste-tested on Arpita and Rupali both, and had received a thumbs-up from both of them.

The real test would come at the dining table.

She looked as everyone settled down and exchanged shocked glances at the breakfast today. She answered them with half-hearted excuses of trying something new. She cleared Radha’s doubt of them being eggless, which they were. She breathed a quick breath of relief once she saw everyone accept her reasons and waited again for him.

Arpita saw and smiled. She liked where this was headed.

Narmada saw her daughter smile and nudged her, only for Arpita to shake her head sideways and then take a bite from her pancake, which was heavenly by the way, her smile never fading away.

Imlie saw Aryan come, muttering a low good morning, his jacket not in his hand this morning and settling into the head chair.

She saw his eyebrows raise at breakfast.

This time, his lips too quirked up in a smile.

She felt a rush of relief, hoping he would eat something today.

He stacked his plate with a couple of pancakes, applying honey to one and chocolate syrup to the other. She saw him pick up his knife and fork to cut up the pancake, and just when he was about to take a bite, he stopped and looked up, straight ahead.

When she registered what had happened to make him stop, she also realised that she hadn’t noticed when Aditya had come up to the breakfast table, a pancake on his plate too. It was what he had said that made Aryan stop.

He had said, “Kamaal hai. Ab aapki taste bhi Mr. Rathore jaisi ho gayi hai Imlie Madam. After all, yeh aapka ghar hai. Yaha choice bhi aapki hi hogi. Yaa phir Mr. Rathore ki, aakhir unhone toh aapko yeh ghar bheek mein diya hai.(Amazing. Your taste is now similar to Mr. Rathore’s now Imlie Madam. After all, this house is yours. The choice is also yours. Or Mr. Rathore’s, since he gave you this house in charity, right.)”

There were a multitude of warnings in Aditya’s name by the family members, but what made Imlie tense was how Aryan was going to respond.

And she was right to be tensed, “You know Mr. Tripathi, ek kahawat hai, ‘Beggars can’t be Choosers’. Aap agar iss ghar mein hai toh woh Imlie ki bheek hai, especially aapke aur aapki wife ke liye. So Mr. Tripathi, since beggars can’t be choosers, you have no choice but to eat what is given to you. I, on the other hand, can have my breakfast someplace else.(You know Mr. Tripathi, there’s this idiom, ‘Beggars can’t be Choosers’. If you can stay in this house Mr. Tripathi, then it’s because of Imlie’s charity, especially for you and your wife. So Mr. Tripathi, since beggars can’t be choosers, you have no choice but to eat what is given to you. I, on the other hand, can have my breakfast someplace else.)”

He turned to say goodbye to his mother, and left, his plate filled with uneaten pancakes, which she had made for him.

Feeling anger surge through her, she said to Aditya, “Apan Pancakewa maan shahed yaa kachu aur daalne ki aapko konu zaroorat naahi hai Aditya Sir. Kaahe ki aap kachu meetha bhi kha le na, tabhi bhi aapki zabaan kadwi hi rahii hai.(You don’t need honey or anything sweet with your pancakes, Aditya Sir. You know why, because eating anything sweet can’t cure that bitter tongue of yours.)”

With that she left the dining room.

Disappointed. She failed the second time too.

Day-3

Imlie had no hope that Aryan would be having breakfast with them today too. After all, once was an incidence, twice, coincidence, but thrice, three times was a pattern. She had no previous reference to feel confident that Aryan would eat something from her hand again.

Yet she tried, again. 

This time she made South Indian food. Everything, from Idli to Mirch-Masala Tomato-Onion Uttapam.

She felt resigned, but at the same time, as she took the Uttapam off the pan into the dish, she felt a flow of hope go through her again.

Maybe. Just maybe he would eat today.

She watched as the daily routine upto everyone coming up to the dining table took place. Everyone came except the Rathores. She waited again for Aryan, hoping he would eat today, and then scolded herself for it.

This time the conversation started before Aryan or Aditya had come to the table.

Aparna was the one who asked, “Imlie, aaj tune South Indian banaya hai? Tujhe maalum hai na Adi South Indian nahi khaata hai.(Imlie, you’ve made South Indian today? You know that Adi doesn’t eat South Indian.)”

And honestly, Imlie had forgotten. She had genuinely forgotten about Aditya not liking South Indian, so enamoured she was in making Aryan eat something made by her.

She sheepishly shook her head and admitted, “Maa, woh hum bhool gaye rahe.(Mom, actually, I’d forgotten.)”

While the family looked shocked at Imlie’s admission, they heard Narmada exclaim, “Imlie, tune South Indian banaya hai? Tujhe pata hai, my Aru loves Uttapam. Shayad aaj woh breakfast karle.(Imlie, you’ve made South Indian? You know, my Aru loves Uttapam. Maybe today he’ll eat breakfast.)”

Imlie’s cheeks reddened at Narmada’s exclamation, which kind of exposed the plan that only two people knew of.

Before she could say anything though, Arpita saved her and said, “Haan Maa, woh aap keh rahi thi naa, ke aapko tension ho gayi hai, Aru ke naastha naa khaane par. Toh maine hi Imlie se kaha aaj South Indian banane ke liye.(Yes mom, you remember, you were telling me about how you are stressed about how Aru’s not having breakfast. So I asked Imlie to make something South Indian.)”

Narmada was about to negate everything Arpita had said, when Arpita nudged her. Narmada sighed then, absolutely done with her kids, and settled down to eat breakfast.

All the Tripathis also breathed a sigh of relief, relieved that Imlie had made something Aditya didn’t like only because Narmada and Arpita were worried for Aryan.

Meanwhile Imlie looked at Arpita gratefully, she had saved her.

Today too, Aryan came first, but this time, everyone was looking at him expectedly, waiting for him to eat breakfast. Today, he was talking on his phone when he came, his only indication of surprise to see something he liked at the table was a pause in his words, and then a promise to call back to the person on the other end of the phone.

He sat down, completed his routine of taking food in his plate. 

And then came Mr. Aditya Kumar Tripathi. He came. He opened up the dishes to see what was for breakfast today. He looked in all the dishes as he was trying to find something, and not finding it made him throw a tantrum.

Aditya asked bitterly, “Maa, aap jaanti hai na ki main South Indian nahi khaata. Aapne mere liye kuch nahi banwaya?(Mom, you know right, that I don’t eat South Indian food. Have you not arranged anything else for me?)”

Aparna, lost in love for her son was about to ask Imlie to make something else for Aditya, but just as she turned to say it, she heard Aryan exclaim, “Mr. Tripathi, would you just stop being a baby for a whole minute and eat what’s been made.”

She looked as Aditya was angered even more and replied, “Mr. Rathore, aap shayad bhool rahe hai, par yeh ghar humaara hai---(Mr. Rathore, I think you’re forgetting that this house is ours---)”

But Aryan interrupted him, “I’m sorry Mr. Tripathi. I think I heard wrong. Aapne kaha yeh ghar aapka hai? Isiliye aap yeh ghar chod ke jaa rahe hai? I thought aap yeh ghar chod ke isiliye jaa rahe hai because aap Imlie se aur bheek nahi le sakte hai.(I’m sorry Mr. Tripathi. I think I heard wrong. You said this house was your’s? That’s why you’re leaving this house? I thought you were leaving this house because you can’t accept any more charity from Imlie.)”

Aditya’s face twisted, but just as he was about to reply, Aryan got up and said, “Maa, mujhe bhookh nahi hai. Bye.(Mom, I’m not hungry. Bye.)”

And he left, ignoring Narmada’s Aru and Arpita’s UNB. He left, his plate full of things to eat, left there, uneaten.

All Imlie felt was, she shouldn’t have hoped.

Day-4

Technically, it wasn’t day four today. 

Because Imlie stopped trying today. She isn’t making something she’d heard that Aryan liked today.

Instead, she was making something she knew to make. She was making something she had seen him enjoy eating.

Moti Roti and Dal. Along with fried green chillies, and a salad of boiled potatoes, boiled beetroots and chopped onion. And also, pickles. Green chillies, carrot and mango pickles.

Yes she knew that Aryan had only eaten her food at that Dhaba because he was hungry, but this time she wasn’t trying to make him eat. She was making something he had eaten and enjoyed before.

It was up to him this time, to eat or not to eat. That is the choice.

So she settled the dishes for the fifth time that week, resigned to the fact that she would gain praise from everyone except from the one she wanted it from, and called everyone out for breakfast. Resigned that he would go without breakfast once more.

The same routine, the Tripathis came, the Rathores came. Aryan came. Aditya came.

Aryan filled up his plate. Aditya filled up his plate. They began to eat and she watched wide-eyed as Aryan was about to take a bite when suddenly, “Imlie, tu bhi baith humare saath khaane ke liye.(Imlie, come sit, join us for breakfast.)”, asked Narmada.

Imlie shook her head, forcing her gaze away from Aryan to Narmada and said, “Aap sab khaaiye naa, hum baad mein khaate hai Kaki Maa.(You all eat, I’ll eat later Kaki Maa.)”

She smiled and turned to look back at Aryan to see he had unhanded the bite he was about to take. She saw as he stood up once again and made some excuses about work.

And Imlie exploded. All her disappointment turned to anger. All her tries had failed and she was tired. But she needed to know. She needed to know why he wouldn’t just eat.

She rounded the table before he could leave and held his wrist. She felt him stop, and she felt his gaze on her too. She noticed the pin drop silence in the dining room.

She took a deep breath and pulled him in front of her.

She saw as his clavicle came into view, beneath his two buttons unbuttoned plum shirt.

She looked up at his affronted look.

And then, rage underlying her words, she asked, “Tum kaahe naahi khawat ho?(Why are you not eating?)”

He turned his gaze to the breakfast table and returned his gaze back to her, confused.

She irritatedly repeated, “Kaahe breakfast naahi karat ho? Kaa sach mein itna fast forward ho gaye ho kaa, ki sach mein apan fast ko break naahi kar sakat ho?(Why are you not having any breakfast? Have you really become that fast forward, that you do not have to break your fast.)”

He looked at her incredulously, and asked, “What?”

Imlie roared then, “Kaa what haa? Kaa what? Pichle chaar dino se hum tohar liye tumre pasand ki cheez banawat hai, aur tum ek baar bhi breakfast naahi kiye ho. Kaahe naahi khaa rahe ho?(What what? What what? I’ve been making your favourite things for the past four days and you haven’t eaten breakfast once. Why are you not eating?)”

Aryan looked at her, dubious, his eyebrows raised at her outburst.

Imlie groaned in irritation and asked again, “Tumka pasand hai na? Parathe, Uttapam aur uu uu English Breakfast, Pancake. Toh khaate kaahe naahi ho?(You like these things, right? Parathas, Uttapams and that English Breakfast thing, Pancakes. So why are you not eating?)”

Aryan rubbed a hand on his face, done with this girl. He looked at her and then asked, “Tumhaari problem kya hai? Ki main breakfast nahi kar raha? Ki main apna favourite breakfast nahi kar raha?(What is your problem? That I’m not having breakfast? Or I’m not having my favourite breakfast?)”

Imlie bursted out, “Humri problem? Humri problem ee hai ki tum humaar haath kaa bana khaana naahi khaawat ho? Ke tum roz aisan naastha kaahe naahi khaawat ho?(My problem? My problem is that why do you not eat food cooked by me? Why are you not having breakfast everyday?)”

And then her eyes widened, she could not believe she had said that.

Aryan could not believe she had said that. All this time, he was irritated with this family, with her cooking for this family, with her wanting this family’s appraisal, with her making Aditya’s favourite breakfast, with her not eating at the same f*cking table with them, and she had been what? Making things that he liked so he would eat? 

Imlie looked on as a million things went on in Aryan’s eyes. 

She resigned herself of not getting an answer and turned to the table, urging everyone to eat.

Just as everyone was about to eat, Aryan grabbed her elbow and pulled her to him.

Imlie looked at him with fire in her eyes.

Aryan answered her question then, “Pehle din, maine isiliye nahi khaaya kyunki tumne apne ex-husband ki favourite dish banayi thi. Dusre din, maine isiliye nahi khaaya because iss ghar mein tumhare khaane ki tareef mujhse bardaasht nahi hoti hai. Teesre din, maine isiliye nahi khaaya, kyunki frankly, main Aditya Kumar Tripathi ki bakwaas sehen nahi kar paata. Chauthe din, maine isiliye nahi khaaya, because mujhe laga ki tumne deliberately Mr. Tripathi ki naapasand cheez banayi hai. And aaj maine isiliye nahi khaaya because tum iss dining table par inn logon ke saath baith kar nahi khaati.(First day, I didn’t eat because you made something your ex-husband likes. Second day, I didn’t eat because I can’t take it when these people praise you for your cooking. Third day, I didn’t eat because frankly, I don’t have any patience when it comes to Aditya Kumar Tripathi’s bullshit. Fourth day, I didn’t eat because I thought you made what Mr. Tripathi dislikes, deliberately. And today I am not eating because you do not sit at this table, with these people and eat with them.)”

Imlie opened her mouth to reply to him, but he stopped her, “I’m not done. Maine har din isiliye nahi khaaya kyunki yeh tumhara potential nahi hai Imlie. You know tumne in paanch dino mein kitne article diye hai? Two. Woh Imlie kaha hai jisne mujhe aadhe din mein front page ke liye worth article diya tha. This Imlie is killing that Imlie. Mujhe problem tumhaare khaane se nahi, mujhe problem tumne khaana banaya isse hai. Mujhe problem yaha khaane mein nahi, mujhe problem tumhaara humaare saath nahi khaane mein hai.(I’m not done. I did not eat anything everyday, because this is not your potential Imlie. You know how many articles you’ve written in these five days? Two. Where is the Imlie that brought me a front page worth article in half a day.This Imlie is killing that Imlie. I do not have a problem with your cooking, I have a problem with you cooking. I do not have a problem eating here, I have a problem that you do not eat with us here.)”

Imlie sputtered then, “Humko ee kaam pasand hai---(I like this work---)”

But Aryan interrupted her before she could finish, “I know tumhe pasand hai. But yeh kaam tumhaara nahi hai. Fir bhi tum isse daily kar rahi ho. Koi aata kyun nahi, tumse yeh kehne ki aaj main breakfast banauga? Huh? Why Imlie?(I know you like it. But this work is not yours. Then too, you do it daily. Why does no one come to you, say that they’ll take over the cooking today? Huh? Why Imlie?)”

Imlie begins again, “Kyunki hum---(Because I---)”

But Aryan interrupted again, “Tum kya Imlie? Inhone yeh bhi notice nahi kiya ki inn paanch dino mein tumne bhi breakfast nahi kiya. But maine kiya. Aur meri problem toh sirf yeh hai ki tum apna khayaal nahi rakhti. But why do you care? Tumhe kya farrak padta ke maine khaaya ki nahi?(You what Imlie? None of these people here noticed that you did not have any breakfast in the past five days. But I did. And my problem is just that you do not take care of yourself. But why do you care? Why does it matter to you if I’ve eaten or not?)”

And that was the gist of the thing wasn’t it.

It began because he hadn’t eaten anything made by her, but it also began because he didn’t eat anything the first day.

She cared when he wasn’t eating anything.

That scared her.

She looked up at him, and he looked down at her.

They both understood what he was saying, but neither wanted to actually say it.

Then Aryan slid his hand from her elbow to her wrist, sat down on his chair, and pulled Imlie to sit down beside him. He pushed the serving he had prepared for himself to Imlie and scolded her with his eyes to eat.

Imlie looked from him to the filled plate. She looked up at him again and then slid the plate between them, urging him to eat too.

Then, miracle of miracle, Aryan Singh Rathore melted right before their eyes and took a bite.

And then, in another surprise, Imlie’s lips widened in a grin and she too took a bite from the same plate.

The Tripathis were shocked.

The Rathores just shrugged, this was becoming something of a common occurrence for them.