Steel Lunch Box and Oh-So-Clever Ms. Singh
If I may say, I was a fool to think Ms. Singh won't catch me. She was a clever teacher. There was no fooling around in her class. And let me confess, I was petrified of her. But that particular day, I had no control. What I did was no child's play! It took immense courage to indulge in the stupidity. Yes, it was stupid of me. But, pardon me I was hungry. My stomach was making weird noises. I did what I had to do - I opened my steel lunch box, unwrapped the roti from the cloth napkin, took a piece and folded a generous dose of aloo-gobi into it. I ducked my head and put that big bite into my mouth. It didn't end there, I told you, Ms. Singh was clever. She reacted even at the slightest mark of suspicion. I had to raise my head. I raised my head and placed the book in front. Abhay was reading Chapter 7. I paced my mind and caught with the lines. He was reading the second paragraph. I was chewing simultaneously. I must take a moment to say, my mother is an artist. That aloo-gobi was to die for! And it tasted extra delicious that day. After the first bite, hunger went sideways and greed took charge. My mouth watered at the thought of another bite. I placed the book down, moved my hands under the desk and made another bite. The boy who sat in front moved in suspicion. Because of Ms. Singh, he didn't look back. The fragrance of this winter delicacy must have reached his nose. Sneaky, dude!
I walked past her but there was no shame. I realization dawned upon me. Ms. Singh was clever but my mother was cleverer.
To Ms. Singh -
You were smart but not that much! Had it been my mother she would have guessed the dish by the aroma that wafted the moment I opened my lunch box? Ms. Singh the only excuse would be your poor sense of smell. Your only defense. But Ms. Singh, we all know how much you hated excuses.
P. S. - I ruined Chapter 7, not by my act but my turmeric stained fingers silly. Par koi nahin, kuch daag achhe hote hain!
*Image Source - www.veggieindian.com
*Image Source - www.veggieindian.com
One of my friends and classmates was very bold and clever -- sitting in the first row, he used to start eating his lunch from the very first class itself (he used to eat others' lunch during lunch time). Once teacher caught him,"Hey you! What are you doing? What's in your mouth?". The boy would turn his head left and then then to right, all the time chewing very fast. Finally when he had managed to swallow it down, he would reply innocently,"Who Sir? Me?"
ReplyDeletehaha! It's something most of us are tempted to do but very few are bold like you. I did sneak to reach for my tiffin and was also caught, at the same time. Yum narration:)
ReplyDeleteHehehe...we all have done that :-D loved the narration, Saru...
ReplyDeleteWhat a delicious story!
ReplyDeleteI'm a gobhi fan too ! Loved the post :)
ReplyDeleteI love aloo gobi. Your narration has made my mouth water. I need go eat aloo gobi now!
ReplyDeleteHahaha! Kuch daag seriously achche hote hain! :D
ReplyDeleteWhen i was in 12th, everyone's lunch boxes used to be empty long before our lunch break. The boys would 'steal' whatever food they could get their hands on. One of my very good friends started hiding his lunch box with my sister. She is 3 years younger than me. He would go to her classroom in the morning, give her his lunchbox for safe-keeping and collect it from her during lunch break. His mom was an awesome cook. So his lunch box was most in demand, you see! :D
Happy Blogging!
Chicky @ www.mysteriouskaddu.com
(To miss Singh) that part describing about your mother's greatness was simply amazing and tantalising our heart's even more than your Gobi and rooti .
ReplyDeleteI was never called Miss or Mrs. Singh ( I was called by my first name) but my students have shared many such stories with me, no gloating but they also told me that they could never dare to eat their lunch in my class. I don't believe that Gobi fragrance could not be detected!! Miss Singh seems to be very gentle and I have seen such teachers too.
ReplyDeleteSaru, I admire your skill of relating a very simple incident so well. :)
Such beautiful memories stay with us forever. A lovely post!
ReplyDeleteWe all have done this. Loved the narration..ya some daags achhe hote hain :)
ReplyDeleteBeen there, done that, though was never caught, cause my tiffin was never made of steel.
ReplyDeleteLoved the letter to Ms. Singh and the pride with which she was pronounced less clever than mommy dear.
I too have fallen to this greed many a times. Especially during 12th std, my tiffin used to b over by lunchtime! Yes, the teacher should have guessed by the Aroma but I passed off without getting caught ever! Loved ur narration, as always!
ReplyDeleteI am hungry now....I too did this delicious mistake when in school. Your beautiful narration reminded me of that!
ReplyDeleteHahaha! Reminded me of the interminable wait to the lunch recess in school. I had a shameless bunch of backbencher friends (I was of course a back-bencher myself) and we regularly emptied our lunch boxes well before the recess. As a result we attacked lunch boxes of other less fortunate, sincere kids during the actual break! Loved this nostalgic post. And yes, Ms Singh was not so smart after all!
ReplyDeletemere to mooh main panee aa gaya the way you described the Aloo Gobhi kee secrete story. .
ReplyDeleteHey.. I thought I had commented on this.. Just saw it wasnt there. Amazing narration. Remembered the times of sneakily opening the lunch box in class.hehe
ReplyDeleteHehe..this reminded me of a incident when I was caught for doing nothing. Yes, I did nothing but still from somewhere aroma reached to my teacher's nose and that made me a culprit. Trust me, I was such a nice boy that I didn't utter a word and accepted the punishment silently. I was asked to stand outside and that was the moment I grabbed with both hands. Went to canteen and had samosa and that was it. Dil ko itni tasalli mili na kya bataun ๐
ReplyDelete@Everyone - Thank you so much for reading!
ReplyDeleteDelicious post.
ReplyDelete