‘Where could the dabba with the semi-broken blue lid go?’, was the question I asked myself while scanning the fridge thoroughly. Since I had an early morning lecture, I kept the search process on hold and diverted my attention to boiling the milk and preparing tea. Luckily for me, the man of house is quite adjusting. Will go about with just tea today.
You could be wondering, what would the contents inside the apparently broken dabba be, to have bothered me so much; to which the answer is ‘atta’. We Indians, specially Gujjus love ‘rotlis’ and our lunch is incomplete without its consumption. Married to an accommodating and slightly health conscious Parsi Bawa, I make chapatis for his breakfast, every morning. In order to utilize my time efficiently, I have a habit of kneading and storing the dough for at least 2 days. I know, many of you would be like – ‘can’t you freshly knead the dough every day, it hardly takes few minutes’, but then the remaining of you, will resonate with why I do this! Let’s not debate over such a petty issue: as managing work, kitchen and other household chores, in this lockdown scenario is kind of a herculean task for many.
Anyways, the thought of where the kneaded dough could have gone, kept lingering all day long. Thinking hard, I kind of figured 3 possible options:
Option 1: I must have kept the dabba near the gas stove and the superwoman(maid) would have thought she has to take it home. (I am sure, a lot of us give our left-over food to them.)
Option 2: I must have kept the dabba close to the sink, and the superwoman would have got rid of it.(Dumped it in the dustbin)
If Option 1 is valid, why did the superwoman not confirm with me once, which she normally does, whenever I keep stuff for her to take.
If Option 2 is valid, why was the dabba not there in the dish rack with other vessels to dry?
May be as per Option 1, she wanted to confirm, but seeing me scolding the students, who keep playing the game of hide & seek in virtual lectures, she decided to no further trouble the angry lioness.
And as per Option 2, since she is a superwoman, she may have decided to get rid of the broken dabba after emptying the contents and hence, the dabba is missing from the dish rack.
Anyways, my answers would be solved only after checking with her the next morning.
Day 2 of The mystery of Missing ‘Atta’ Dabba continues!
Upon enquiry, the superwoman snapped back: “Dabba!! Mi nai bagitla. Barabar fridge madhi baga. Tikdej honar!” (I did not see the dabba. You better check the fridge properly; it must be there only.)
To prove her my searching skills, I once again scoured the fridge. Ta-Da, it was not there.
Me = 1, Superwoman = 0
Where could the dabba then go? I now had the only option to check with my pati-parmeshwar and seek his help to solve the mystery.
Since it was his work from home day, I waited for him to get up.
Unfortunately, by the time he got up, my online lectures had begun. The lectures that day, were scheduled all the way till noon. Post which, when I finally was to ask him, the doorbell rang and came along our neighbor’s son to play with his dearest uncle after finishing his online school.
Let me share a little background with you all, about this very observant and smart 6-year-old kid, whose second home in lockdown has been ours. There is no nook & corner of our house, the little one isn’t familiar with. From where I keep my toiletries, to which cabinet in the kitchen has what; everything is known to our so called adopted child. We could keep ourselves sane because of this little one, who loves playing board games as well as arm wrestling and boxing. He is our mini-workout mode.
Coming back to the conundrum of missing dabba. I was cutting fruits for the big and the small men of my house when the thought of the missing dabba flashed and I went to the living room to check about it with the parmeshwara. Unaware that the little one was paying keen attention to each of my words, I asked the big one, – “By any chance have you seen the dabba with blue lid on it? Or did I on mistake keep that in your lunch bag the other day?”. Apparently busy setting up the chess board for the little one and him to play, he nodded his head in denial.
Exasperated I yelled, “Where the hell are you atta ka dabba!”, to which this smart-pants (kiddo) said – “Aunty, I know where it is. Come, let me show you.”
A sense of relief and at the same time bewilderment appeared on both our faces. Our eyes did the talking. How could he know where the dabba could be? I mean yes, the kiddo is aware about every inch of the house, but such minute detail!!
Still confused, we both followed him to the kitchen and saw him open the cabinet door of where I normally keep the dabba (stainless steel) with some dry flour in it, that’s used for dusting rotis. Before I could explain to him that – bacha, I am looking for the dabba with dough in it, he pulled out something that left me speechless.
Perched on top of the stainless steel dabba, was the blue dabba with dough in it, laughing at my carelessness!!!!!!!
I mean: How, When & Why?
The little vigilant boy, thought that I was talking about the dry atta dabba and directed me to the place thinking aunty must have forgotten where she normally keeps, and unknowingly solves the mystery to the missing dough dabba. The word ‘atta’ & my ‘alert’ kiddo, saved and solved, respectively, this crazy puzzle for me,
To conclude, I realized that subconsciously I must have kept both the dabbas inside the cabinet the last time I made rotis and got busy with other work (online lectures).
Had it not been for this resourceful kiddo, it would have taken a day more for the mystery to solve as the cabinet would be stinking by then anyways.