The Plunge

It was a sheer drop. My heart was beating as hard as drum rolls at a college party. I had seen 7 others go before me and knew that it would be over in 10 seconds. I also knew that I would be pushed off without mercy in the next minute if not less. I chanced a pleading look behind. My husband nodded in the negative. He was next in line but sporting a grin.  Oh, that man can look calm even if faced with a cage of lions gone hungry for a year, I angrily mused. 

I was staring unblinking at the bottom. It seemed to be plunging deeper by the second. I  should have looked at the other end, where beaming faces would have encouraged me. But no, like a deer about to be swallowed whole that cannot but help but continue looking mesmerized into an anaconda's hypnotic eyes, I fixed my gaze on the ground. 

"How do you want to go?" jovially asked the man about to shove me off that tiny ledge. "I just want to reach the other end." , I squeaked. Without so much as reply, he did what I had been dreading for the last ten agonizing minutes- pushed me off. I shut my eyes and tried to ignore the blood roaring in my ears and fear racing through my ears.

I sneaked a peek to see trees whizzing by, and dizziness creeping fast on me. I had lost sight of both ends to my increasing panic. I opened my mouth. To this day, I don't know if it was to breathe or scream. But before I could act on any wild impuses, I heard a jubilant voice, "You're here!" I saw seven beaming faces I had last seen on that tiny ledge. Before I had even calmed my thundering heart, my husband jumped into my vision. 

"You did it!" He congratulated me. Oh yes! I had done it. I had actually ziplined from one tree to another. As in many situations in life, I had dreaded the plunge, battled the fear of unknown and failure, built up plenty of excuses, and almost chickened out at the last minute. But after actually doing it, I realized that it was no big deal and I could actually do it again. With a smile, a braver me waited my turn. This time, when asked "How do you want to go?", I answered with a grin, "Surprise Me!" And I laughed all the way.

*Ziplining: A zip-line consists of a pulley suspended on a cable mounted on an incline. It is designed to enable a user propelled by gravity to travel from the top to the bottom of the inclined cable, usually made of stainless steel, by holding on or attaching to the freely moving pulley. Zip-lines come in many forms, most often used as a means of entertainment.

Recipe for Disaster

Quite an eventful day- in the kitchen. My culinary woes, or more accurately, hubby's gastro woes never seem to cease.

Today's menu was Methi Paratha. The leaves were soaked, cooked and tasted. Since, it was the first time I was independently preparing them, had mashed potatoes for some Aloo parathas as well. Sounds like quite a strategy, doesn't it? Fool-proof, I thought.

Obviously, I underestimated my own abilities to botch up the simplest of stuff.

Open to scene where the first aloo paratha is prepared. Methi paratha is on the tawa merrily cooking. After I happily flipped the paratha one last time, I heated some ghee for Hubby's favourite roti accompaniment - ghee and sugar. All done and I called out to him to take  the parathas. I was quite confident since I had my backup of aloo paratha. I have made them many times previously, so I was happyily rolling out the next ones.

Act 2: Hubbyji delightedly took his first bite. At my questioning glance, he swallowed and tried to curb the spasm of distaste that was overcoming him. My frown lines were growing deeper than Grand Canyon when he replied- too much salt. 'Okie- skip that and have the Aloo under that one' was my reply. Hubby turned and left only to come back with a horrifying shout. What? was my only comment. This is terribly salty too. Our jaws dropped. Okay, extra salt was his excuse- mine was plain misery. The flour- replied my inner Sherlock and a ravenous Hubs dear.

Hmm. I wish that were the end. Sadly, the day had was yet not over. I'll leave out the gory details of a partially cooked Frozen paratha. I won't even mention the  overcooked one that followed the half-done partner or even Hubbyji's growing ire. It is just too gory and painful. Just a one word description will suffice- Disaster.

So, what can I reveal? Well, I must mention Hubby dear's sweet gesture of cooking for me. [I take offence at anyone who says 'About time' though.] And I will include his sympathetic way of wiping away my tears of frustration at having lost the battle in my kitchen. Hubs is a sweetie- really; and not just because we shared the next parathas slathered with lots of ghee [my favourite]. Not just due to his way of making me double up with laughter at his jokes as we ate. Could be that he allowed me a close win in the round of Scrabble that we played next- just before his offshore call. Could be because he nudged my favourite MB towards me as he took his daily meeting. Could also be his handing me an almond sprinkled chocolate ice-cream. But mostly, it was for understanding. For comprehending my feelings, and sympathising at such silly times. Especially, since Hubs is a great cook and is an expert at new dishes and the fact that he had asked specifically if we could have an early dinner as he was a bit hungry and had loads of office work.

Is it any wonder that I adore this man? Absolutely not. My efforts in the kitchen might have ended up in an utter failure. But that's paltry compared to the comforting fact that I've ended up with the right man! Adios- to a new day and a new recipe, maybe.