Jhatpat Baingan- for Mother

Some days ago our cook went missing, and the onus came on me to fix a quick dinner. As is my habit whenever I am flummoxed, I called my mother- "Mummy, what can I make with Brinjal that is quick and edible?" Pat came the reply- "Make Jhatpat Baingan!" After I had got over my bouts of laughter, I got the recipe from her- shallow fry hing, garlic, dry pepper and turmeric; add brinjal, potatoes and tomatoes, some water and salt to taste, and close the pressure cooker lid. After one whistle, the miracle is done. While I was cooking, the smile never left my face.

I am married and my three siblings are 40 year olds with kids now; but a problem of any magnitude in any part of the world, and a prompt call is placed to mummy who sorts it out in a matter of minutes. Recipes are given, clothes designed, medicines prescribed and bickering couples put in place, all by that one lady sitting in a remote corner of India.

So many times have we wondered how someone as smart, talented and beautiful as her could sit at home and still be satisfied! But when one sees the way she utilises her creativity and time, one is left in no doubt whatsoever. Very few moments in her life are dedicated to leisure- a free afternoon brings her scissors and sewing machine into action, and a designer salwar suit takes form from an old sari which I would have given away to my maid without thinking. I have lost count of the times that I have been asked which boutique I bought my dress from, and replied proudly that it was designed and stitched by my mother. My most special memories are of days in school and college when I'd come back from a tough exam and find my favorite rasmalai or rasgullas on the table, all whipped up by that magician at home; they were better than the best of KC Das, mind you! Her knitting designs are to be seen to be believed, and not to forget, she is a very talented singer! Her wit and repartee make her a formidable opponent in any discussion. I remember a time when in the midst of a heated argument between my parents, I came to papa to get my report card signed. He shouted, "Go ask your mother who your father is!" Now, any other decent lady would have been reduced to tears at this, but my mother calmly pointed me to our ugly gardener outside and asked me to go get my card signed. That was it- the whole family rolled on the floor with laughter, papa included and reduced to tears all right.

She has always been a fiercely protective mother to all of us and especially to me, her youngest. I was born very sick, and doctors had no hope for me. She fought fate and nursed me right back to life. I was 4 when she fought again, and succeeded in getting a re-test for a dictation which I flunked because I did not feel like writing at that particular time- she informed the hapless nun from Kerala that pronouncing 'twenty' as 'twendy' was no way to stimulate a child into writing. A few months ago my husband & I had problems with our landlord, and she demanded his phone number to put him in place. We were greatly amused and needless to say, didn't share his number for fear that the poor chap would never be able to take another phone call without wetting his pants. She has always been there to support us as we face our battles in life; of course, she'd fight all of them herself if we'd only give her the bloody sword and sit back!

The cherry on this very special cake is a balanced head on her shoulders, which makes her a sounding board for her entire family. She has managed a household bustling with four children (not counting papa), a number of pets and all the accompanying responsibilites with love, sensitivity and sensibility, without ever showing a hint of strain or overwork, and still finding the time for all her creative outlets. How she does it all, I have no clue. But I do know that if she was not my very own Mommeeeee, I'd envy her like hell! And for the record, the Jhatpat Baingan was brilliant.....