KHADE MOONG KI KHICHDI

                              

                                                                                    

         

A steaming hot thali of khichdi; not the normal, regular one which is generally given to people recuperating.

          This was a special khichdi, khade moong ki khichdi.

          For a girl of 12 years old, to experience the aroma of desi ghee on the khade moong ki khichdi, it felt so divine, blissful.

          If I close my eyes and go back down the memory lane, this tantalizing incident is etched so deep in my heart, my memory; it feels as if I can smell the mix of desi ghee and the khade moog ki khichdi even now. I can see the steam rising from the thali, as if inviting me to touch it, take it in my fingers, eat it, savour it and lick my fingers and exclaim: yummy, this is the best khade moong ki khichdi in the world.

          No side dishes with it on the thali, no pickles, no curd, no papads.

Just khichdi, the special khade moong ki khichdi.

This incident happened when I had by chance gone to my neighbour’s home. I don’t remember for what I had gone, I don’t remember what had happened. I remember nothing, except the khade moong ki khichdi.

          As I was sitting and talking to the neighbour aunty, I saw their daughter in her early twenties sitting, ready to eat her dinner. The thali with, what you all know about was brought.

          The buttery aroma and the look of the khichdi drew my attention to it. I was just looking at it and kept staring at the thali.

          I don’t remember what the aunt had talked or anything at all. All I thought about was that thali and the mouth watering aroma of that khade moong ki khichdi and desi ghee.

          How do I specifically know that it was khade moong ki khichdi? Because I had heard the aunty tell her daughter that she had made her favourite khade moong ki khichdi that day. I came home and told my mom about this new dish which looked very yummy and smelled divine. I did not tell her about my secret longing to eat it and did not even question her as to why that aunty did not offer me a plate of the khichdi.

          I decided, the next day the khade moong ki khichdi will be on my plate. I tried my hand at making it and it was a disaster. Even after adding a spoonful of desi ghee on my plate of khichdi, it didn’t smell or resemble any bit like the previous night’s khichdi.

          I ate it making faces, half heartedly. Don’t know how my family ate it.

Next day again it was khichdi for dinner. Try, I did, but it didn’t turn out to be that khade moong ki khichdi.

          After a week of khichdi for dinner every night, my mom grumbled that she was very much fit and healthy and didn’t want to eat any more of my experimental khichdi.

          Broken hearted, I didn’t cook khichdi after that. I didn’t know then that I could have gone and asked my neighbour aunty for the recipe or learnt to cook the khichdi from her. Things are pretty much easy and convenient these days with YouTube, Blogs, cooking classes and channels, friends sharing recipes and so on.

          In the later years, I did try my hand again at making the khade moong ki khichdi but it evaded coming to me. It looked like some far-fetched dream, this elusive dish which was rather becoming like some Birbal’s khichdi to me.

Whether I will learn to make the khade moong ki khichdi or not, one thing I have learnt in my life after that incident is for sure.

          Never.  Ever  – sit in front of a 12 year old child and in fact never sit in front of any child, an adult, or an elder, known or unknown person and eat anything without offering them or asking if they would like to have a share in your food.  Had my neighbour aunty or her daughter ( I remembered her name – Pinky) had asked me or had offered me that khade moong ki khichdi that day, some few years back, today my restless soul would have been at peace and satiated. I wouldn’t be stealthily trying my hand to make that khade moong ki khichdi and gobble it all by myself, as my family had had enough of it and have declared that they never want to hear about it, leave alone eat it. They don’t want to be the guinea pigs for my khichdi anymore.

          The day I get to eat that same khade moong ki khichdi with a dollop of desi ghee, which I can definitely recognize by its special aroma and its look,

I tell you,

I will attain Moksha.

* Khada moong – green gram whole