IT was March. The summerbreeze caressed theneem leaves. Inside, Amma was preparing dosa for breakfast. I sat at the table with a growling stomach and a drooling tongue. I asked Amma if we had some of the mango pickles that Ammamma had got for us on her last visit. Sadly, we had run out of it.
Ammamma’s handmade pickles were to die for. Even though Ammamma made a variety of pickles, I loved her mango pickles the best. It was just perfect, spicy and tangy. The raw mango chunks were juicy and soft and it wasn’t oily. I asked Amma if she could prepare the pickles the same way as Ammamma did, and she said, “Not at all. I can’t even make it taste like a pickle.”
Having lived more than half her life in the city, Amma never had a chance to learn all the traditional recipes that Ammamma knew to make.
“Amma, why don’t we take a trip to our village? My vacations are on, dad is on tour and you’d have so much fun visiting Ammamma too. Besides, I’ve never visited my native place and it would be nice to explore the quiet life,” I told her.
A wide smile spread across Amma’s face. It had been over 20 years since she had visited the village, and she was more than excited to go back to her roots.
D-day arrived. We boarded our train to Vijayawada. Since it was an overnight journey and Amma didn’t trust train food, she had packed a simple meal of rotis, potato sabji and ‘lemon rice’ for our dinner.
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der December 2016-Ausgabe von Dimdima.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der December 2016-Ausgabe von Dimdima.
Starten Sie Ihre 7-tägige kostenlose Testversion von Magzter GOLD, um auf Tausende kuratierte Premium-Storys sowie über 8.000 Zeitschriften und Zeitungen zuzugreifen.
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(S)Tahr Of The Nilgiris
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Deepa Malik
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The Ghost Trio
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A costume party? I’m not going.”
Master of the High Seas
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Why Monsoon Matters!
The three girls, studying in the 4th standard in Bilpudi, say the rainy season is their favourite time of the year. “I like to sing and play in the rain,” says Jacinta Rathad. “I play with my brother when it rains,” admits Kalista Hadal. She says her grandfather goes fishing in the river with men from the village. A heavy rain can send water gushing into the river.
