Mambazha Pulussery

I woke up with a start on Sunday morning with the entire house smelling of coconut oil. My wife walked stealthily to me and gestured towards the kitchen.

"Oho! You in the kitchen! Miracle! Miracle!" I teased my daughter.

She threw a reproachful look at her mother and turned back to stir some white paste in what seemed like coconut. Her hair was all frizzy, the sleeves of her shirt rolled up, sweat beads shining on her forehead, face screwed up in concentration at the lumpy gravy she had formed on the flames.

"What is it you are cooking?" I asked, half of the guesswork already done.

Wife snorted and hurried out of the kitchen.

"Mambazha Pulussery." she said quietly and clearly, not looking at me.

"What?" Quite a tongue twister that was.

"Raw mango curry in coconut milk. An authentic South Indian dish, okay?" she said with an admonishing look, flaring her nostrils, searching for the signs of teasing and laughing.

"Cooking for him, huh! You are going out with him today?" I asked pointedly.

"Yes." A curt reply.

She backed off a little as she dropped curry leaves and dried red chilies in the heated oil. I reduced the flame promptly as she coughed hard.

My daughter who had never stepped foot in kitchen was cooking for the man she loved. I felt a pang of jealously for this other man she now loved more than she loved me.

When she gave a final stir to that strange smelling concoction, I tasted it and grimaced in disgust.
"Is it supposed to taste like this??!" I asked her.

"Yes. This is how it tastes normally. Almost like his mom makes it." she said, a bit proud at her own perfect achievement.

"Yuck. You are really ready to eat such stuff everyday in future?" A quiet and serious question.

"Yes." Another curt reply with squinty eyes and tight jaw, "I. Like. It."

"It's coconut oil! It's got no other taste."
"It's okay. I like it."
"No, you hate it."
"I told you I like it."
"Taste it then. In front of me."

She took a spoonful and tasted it. I stared at her. She smiled and looked away.
"Fine. I dislike it. I hate coconut." she admitted and we both smiled.
"But it's his favourite." she muttered under her breath shyly, busying herself with the tiffin she had started packing.

I sighed loud enough for her to hear and left.

An hour later she came in front of us in her new dress and asked her mother how she looked.

"No! You won't wear this. Too short, Miss!" I pointed out angrily, glancing at my wife seeking support to my disapproval. To my utter disappointment, she merely shrugged and resumed her kitchen cleaning.

"I am wearing this. It must be looking too good if this annoys you so much. Thanks dad." daughter said loftily.

"Bye dad." With a swift hug she tottered away in her heels.

"Bye." I muttered rather gloomily.

"Since when did you become her confidant!? And you see, she loves him more! I had topped her list all these years." I whispered to my wife sadly.

"Times change." wife said, patting on my back.

No Strings Attached

She had stayed like that for around five minutes now, hiding her face in my chest, her fists curled around, pressing against my back. She was being unusually sentimental today for a reason I couldn't guess.

I patted the back of her head gently, breathing deeply to smell her hair.

"I will never hurt-"

She suddenly broke off from my arms and put her palm over my mouth.

I looked at her in surprise. Her face was contorted with fear.

"Can we agree on one thing please?" she murmured in a stern voice, "Let's not make any promise to one another."

"But why?" I asked holding her palm gently.

"Because everything good crushes under the burden of expectations." she said huskily, ignoring my reaction and pulling me towards herself by the collar of my shirt, "Let's focus on only lust. Let's be uncomplicated."

Strangely though, when her lips burnt against mine the next moment, she tasted of complications. I smiled realizing how, quite oblivious to her, her kisses had stopped claiming 'I want you' and started whispering 'I need you' to me.

"What!" She snapped sharply.

"I promise I will never make a promise to you." I said, contrary to my own heart that had made so many promises to her already.

She slapped me and then kissed more.