Sometimes I forgot how much my sister resembles my father. Not just in looks, or temperament but those little idiosyncrasies that you remember, when you remember a person. Like today.
She woke up, came to my room and said in that, what I call, the cat who ate the cream look, and said, “Meena, if you are hungry, you can make that special, rava soaked in the curd stew ( for lack of better words ) that we both like”
How many times have we been spoken to, by dad, with the very same tone and the very same tone!
Lazy that we are, (by inheritance?), we would avoid cooking in the evening and hungry, in the middle of the night, wait for someone else to cook something up. And then Dad, with his special smile, would address me thusly, and I’d ask him, “Does that mean you are not hungry at all?”
And he’d reply, ” How can I not eat something you made with so much love? I’d simply taste it. A little bit”
And with a smile, just because he asked, I’d make it for him.
And now my sis, uses the very same trick with me.
And I couldn’t help remembering, and smiling and rustling up something that I’d usually do with a lot of grumbling.
I wonder, if my sis realizes how much she resembles my dad?