Blame it on Vasthu!
When I visited my mother a few months back, I came to know about the development. To put it very mildly, I was shocked beyond words. How could this be happening, I thought. At first, there was denial then i thought it was a cruel joke, but then, when i saw the reality unfolding right in front of me, i felt a vacuum in my stomach.
How can I break the news to my brother, who's across the seven seas? Okay, maybe not seven. But definitely, a few thousand miles away in the US. And how will I break the news to my daughter? This would really shatter the two of them. Should I deal with my own sinking feeling first or should I take both of them into what is at that point a painful personal grief. How can I break the news gently to them? And the thought, why should I be the one to break the news? It's best to glide over the topic and let them discover and deal with the pain themselves, I thought.
However, my mother quickly pointed out that by hiding it, I would look guilty in their eyes. She advised that it's best I mention it at the earliest to them lest they think i hid such a terrible news from them and carried on as if nothing happened. Moved on as if our lives didn't just change overnight.
So, I waited till I returned home and one day when my daughter was engrossed in a good movie I decided to break the news to her subtly. This was the best time, I thought as she barely ever heard a word i spoke during such times. So, at what I thought was the most interesting moment in the film, I said softly, I've been meaning to tell you, the Tiffins Thatha(Grandpa) has shifted out and the Tiffin Centre has closed down.
I spoke so softly, I barely heard myself, but there she was, looking at me with horror. A deafening silence ensued as she paused the movie! It was the first time ever that she paused a movie to actually listen to me! I was made to repeat what I just said and cross examined by my lawyer daughter as if I was the one who threw Tiffins Thatha out of his rented premises. Did you tell Mamu, she asked seriously. I am waiting for the right time to tell him, I mumbled apologetically.
The Tiffin Centre was the most popular landmark right in front of my parents' apartment. He was famous for his melt in the mouth Idlies, crispy Vadas, and heavenly Mysore Bondas which came packed with a generous helping of tasty chutney. Day after day and year year after year the chutney tasted the same and the quality of the tiffins remained at impeccable standards. How did he manage that, I often wondered, as even my daily cup of coffee tasted different every single day of the week. To top that, in the evenings he was inundated with people who came from far and near for his South Indian style Mirchi Vada, Onion Pakodas and the most delectable 'punugulu'(South Indian snack) which were accompanied by a tangy and spicy green chutney. The chutney was the right blend of ginger, green chillies, tamarind, some jeera and maybe a couple of other magic ingredients that we never figured in all our trials at remaking it in our respective homes.
Whenever either my brother or I visited our parents, the breakfast always came from the Tiffins Thatha and of course the evening snacks too. My daughter and husband got indoctrinated as well and the extended family who visited were made to taste his tiffins too. Nobody could resist them and he was as much a part of our homecoming-comfort-food routine as my Mother's home cooked dishes. Come rain or shine, he was open by six in the morning and people from all walks of life made a beeline for his tasty tiffins. He was an intrinsic part of our visits home and it was impossible to think of holidays at home without his tiffins.
When I broke the news to my brother, I thought the video screen had frozen. He was shell shocked to put it subtly and was terribly upset with me for being as subtle as a sledgehammer in breaking such a distressing news so nonchalantly. What else can I do, I pleaded. I am equally distraught. But we need to accept the facts I said placatingly.
He was not one to accept things just like that, so the watchman of the apartment was tasked to find out why and how it happened. The house help refused to be left behind and joined in with the tidbits she gathered from her set of informants. The friendly neighbours pitched in too and bit by bit we pieced together the puzzle of the Tiffins Thatha.
As often time happens, varied stories emerged and almost turned the regular Tiffins Thatha into a legendary persona. Till he moved, we never even really bothered to check who he was, where he came from but now that he was gone, our curiosity and desire to know as much as possible about him was all consuming.
We heard stories of how he came as a watchman to the plot of land where the building of the Tiffins centre eventually came up. We learnt that he had started with a small tea stall to supply tea to the construction workers. And one fine day he decided to make and sell basic tiffins to the workers. All this was about three decades ago. The plot owner as a goodwill gesture offered him the corner shop for a nominal rent. Over the years, his business did so well that he graduated from a single man show to a retinue of atleast a dozen well trained and efficient workers who ran the Centre with a machine like precision. We caught glimpses of him at the Centre, sometimes collecting money from customers, sometimes supervising the cooking, other times, checking on the cleaning boys. We even heard that he made enough money to buy a Mercedes Benz and a plot in the vicinity.
Of course, there's no way to verify these 'facts'. We took some of them with a pinch of salt! But suffice it to say that after our thorough research we were told unanimously from different sources, that the owner of the building was told by a Vasthu expert that the corner shop which was the Tiffin Centre was the wrong place for the Agni-sthan! The Tiffins Thatha was served a month's notice to vacate the place.
Breakfasts and evening snacks are not the same anymore. Homecoming is not the same anymore. My brother and daughter console each other that the Tiffins Thatha may soon open a Centre close by. I try to be part of their conversation and want to be offered some consolation. But being the bearer of the bad news, i am given accusatory looks. "Let's blame it on Vasthu!" I try to pacify them!
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