Jane Austen Always


Literature was not born the day when a boy crying “wolf, wolf” came running out of the Neanderthal valley with a big gray wolf at his heels: literature was born the day when a boy came crying “wolf, wolf” and there was no wolf behind him.

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Spicy Happiness

May 9, 2019

                                         Spicy Happiness
“Is it your birthday?”
“I don't care, I want two Samosas as party. ’’
"You lost the match? No problem .Let’s eat samosas."
 These are some lovely lines quoted by every student of our school.
 Small, crushed yellow potatoes mixed in flour, salt and fried black pepper.
These triangles of happiness fried in hot boiling oil in big cauldron attract every one.
Ours is a big school in the lap of nature. In a remote corner of our school ,almost hidden from common view is our school canteen. But the smell of crunchy and mouth watering samosa  can be sensed through length and breadth of the school.
The moment, the aroma of frying samosas emerges out , there is a spicy happiness all around. We start relishing it in mind and forget the horrible faces of teachers .
Primary wing students love to eat these crispy potatoes bathed in hot oil. In a push back fight to get samosa first, these juniors knee down between the legs of the seniors to grab a tasteful bite.
For senior students, it is beyond an eatable. If any friend happens to be absent, it saves us from loneliness. If any of us performs poorly in class tests, we savour it. If we get highest marks, we relish it. If any brilliant student or a truant goes missing in the school, it’s for this spicy happiness only.
This wonderful delight is very close to our hearts and taste buds.   We imagine tasting hot crushed peppery potatoes and face every challenge ;be it the teacher’s shout or a scolding.
 Many a time we forget  our Tiffin box intentionally  at home if it’s a green vegetable. In such odd situations, this magic from school canteen satisfies our hunger .
This triangle of happiness is a mood lifter for everyone.  On many occasions, students offer samosas to Cleansing staff to see a sparkling smile  on their faces.
This is the secret of my as well as other students’ willingness to go to school.
 I remember the time when I was selected to represent my school in an inter-cluster English Debate Competition. There, I was missing it more than my friends and parents. I searched for it in vain.
 My friends, who keep disturbing me on phone, rang me frequently. ‘‘I know you will win .we will organise a samosa party on your victory”, one friend reminded me of my tension-reliever .Others wished me good luck and demanded again of the hot crispy treat .No one was good enough to offer me this happiness as soon as I go back.
Next day was the day of Debate Competition. I was to present my views against the motion. I was in no mind to sleep or focus on my topic. Besides, phone calls of my friends drew me nearer to my school life.   
"Why do some people have those special skills of spreading happiness and become so essential part of our life that we feel their presence and absence both?”,my mind travelled to the canteen. The face of canteen owner came online to my mind. 
Ashok has a big family .The happiness of his family depends upon the earnings made by selling samosas. He comes to school on an old bike.  Once he was telling the teachers that every day he gets up at four in the morning   and puts potatoes in a big container to boil .He boils 100 kilograms of raw potatoes. When he comes to school, he brings them with him on his bike.
First of all he worships his Deity. He brooms the surrounding area. Then he sits on a big bench and spread the peeled boiled potatoes.
Then he makes dough of flour and makes many hundred round balls of dough. Sometimes we also get a chance to see how he flattens the balls and cut them in semicircles. In a big cauldron he roasts some herbs and spices to make the stuffing.  He mixes the mashed potatoes with them .After cooling it , he takes the semicircles one by one and  joins the corners . It takes the shape of a triangle. He fills it with the material and closes it using water .Finally he leaves these triangles in deep oil to fry where they start dancing .
When these triangles are deep fried in oil, gentle breeze brings festivity with it .Softly, whiteness turns into golden colour. He flips them skill fully.  Wait a minute!!
 Lo and Behold! Our spicy happiness is ready to be relished.
 His face gave me a spark of determination like golden streak in a cloudy sky. I started writing about him. More I thought of him ,more clearly I could see a small place called our school canteen under the  vast blue sky where this man earns his livelihood by selling happiness. All my opponents were secretly discussing their arguments and rebuttal part. I was thinking of the man who was planning for the next day to make our life spicy with his golden skill.
Our competition was over. I made my presence felt and proved to be a strong debater. After the formal closing of the event, it was time to say good bye to the contenders . We may be enemies in competitions but when we depart , we have tears in our eyes for  each other. We hugged one another tightly .Tears rolled on our cheeks.
That was the feeling of a battle fought and won;a feeling of victory.  A feeling of Separation and hope for re-union. It was the feeling of eating  samosa.
At a later stage in one of my competition, I lost the battle. I could not even stand up. My opponent held  me in her arms. The first thing I could wish in my brain and desire in my mouth was a simple samosa.

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1 Comment
  • Samina

    Superb explaination! My mouth is watering too for samosa.

    about 3 years ago