The Yarn Factory

I was very shy and quiet as a child. Like any other child, I too used to get into violent fights and brawls, but only with those kids who were very close to me. The outside world would see me as a docile young kitten with a mild temperament and impeccable manners. So much so that when Mom told others of the thrashings sis was subjected to at my hands, they thought Mom was a habitual liar(Mom dropped the complaining habit soon after). No, I wasn't doing it unconsciously. I quite often went out of the way to be polite and nice to people. This habit of mine put me into a discomfiting situation one fine day. I should have seen it coming.

Every summer, we used to make a trip to our native place in Kerala. It used to be a whirlwind tour, visiting our aunts, uncles and cousins, as well as those of our parents. Since we were the only members of the family outside Kerala at that time, at each home, we were given receptions befitting royal visits. Mango and jackfruit delicacies at every home(Mom used to carry a strip of Digene in her purse permanently. We used to pop one into our mouths each time we came out of one house, before going into the next one).

This happened when I was ten or eleven years old. We had gone to visit my grand-aunt(Mother's aunt). She was known throughout the extended family to be an excellent cook(Relatives visiting her home used to time their visits to coincide with lunch or dinner. She was that famous). So off we went to visit her, empty stomachs and all. As expected, there was a delicious spicy fragrance greeting us at the gate. We eagerly went in and greeted grand-aunt, and after the customary greeting, she invited us to sample a seasonal delicacy that she had made for us. This was where it all started.

Mom and sis accepted immediately, whereas, for some strange reason, I decided to play the decent guy. In a very formal and polite vein, I declined(the plan being that she would insist, and then I would accept. And then polish off whatever was placed in front of me). I had not accounted for the informal and unrefined(albeit loving) attitude of these people who lived in the beautiful countryside, far away from the polished etiquette of city life.

She said, “Looks like our little boy is not hungry. It's ok, you both eat. Come on”.

And I sat there watching my mom and sis gorge on the delicacies, while I had to be content with the smells and sights of the delicacy being devoured. Aunt couldn't get why sis was laughing her head off. Years later, to this day, the story is recounted at every family function, embarrassing me to no end. But one thing is for sure – I have learnt my lesson!!