The Magic Idli

Everyone except the driver seemed to be sleeping in the long distance bus. Was Nikhil playing a trick again? She nudged her brother in the next seat, but the Kumbhakarna of Kaliyug slumped on her shoulder, as awake as a log.

"Hurry, you dumbo!" The voice was ruder and angrier now, and definitely inside the bag under Ruchika's feet.

Heart thudding, Ruchika opened her bag and found… storybooks she and Nikhil had packed for what promised to be a dull long weekend at Ajja's house in Davangere.  Then came toothbrushes, soap, and… a water bottle; but these things weren't supposed to talk.

The scolding continued non-stop from the bag. Ruchika next pulled out a soggy parcel.
"At last!" said the parcel. "Untie the strings and free me, you cretin."

Ruchika's temper boiled. She decided to take out whatever it was inside and toss it out of the window.  A limp, flattened idli emerged, a plastic sachet of chutney stuck to it.
"Haven't you seen an idli before, stupid girl?"

Ruchika rubbed her eyes and shuddered. A talking idli! It wasn't a dream. She could smell the sweat and hear the snores of a bus load of passengers. The bus shook and rattled as it moved along the highway through the dark night.

"Yes, I'm an intelligent idli and no, you are NOT dreaming," the voice said as if reading Ruchika's mind.

Ruchika remembered buying the idli from a roadside vendor. Idlis were the most tasteless, boring food in the whole world. They were meant to be eaten and not to order children around. Strange things like this happened only in books and movies. Ruchika was on a routine journey to Davangere, in a bus full of ordinary snoring folks and their battered luggage.  A government bus with push-back seats which snapped back at you with a vengeance was not the stuff of magic.

"I'm just as intelligent as all my other idli brothers and sisters," the idli said. "Only they don't get a chance to talk or prove themselves because you greedy humans gobble them up as soon as they're out of the steamer." Ruchika shuddered. The idli COULD read her thoughts! "I've been spared because I have a mission in life," the idli continued. "Now do exactly as I say."

Ruchika decided to play along. Obeying the idli, she got up and moved up the aisle, gripping the rails to balance. 

Through the front windshield, she saw a gaggle of animals crossing the road. The headlights lit their broad backs and horns. Their eyes caught the light and glowed red like burning embers. A herd of cattle, or deer perhaps? Ruchika could not tell clearly in the darkness. She only knew that the speeding bus must be stopped or it would hit the animals.

What was the driver doing? As Ruchika came closer egged on by the idli, she could see the driver slumped on to the steering wheel, head lolling to a side.

Oh no! He must have dozed off! Ruchika knew night driving on highways was monotonous and tiring. Sleep might come at any time, causing accidents. That's why Papa and Mummy insisted on halting at nights when they took their car on long journeys. Because Papa and Mummy couldn't get leave from their jobs and drive down to see Ajja this weekend, Ruchika and Nikhil were forced to take this bus. And Ruchika now had to put up with the disgusting idli.

The bus raced on. The animals on the road seemed within touching distance. Ruchika shut her eyes and braced herself for the inevitable crash when…

SPLAT! The idli flew out of her hand and landed like a hard slap on the driver's face. The driver woke up with a start, and hit the brakes immediately. The bus skidded off the road and halted, tilting at an odd angle.

The joltss and noise woke up the passengers. Everyone got down to see what had happened. The bus had stopped just short of the banks of a canal. If the driver had braked a few seconds later, there would have been a terrible accident. But luckily nobody was seriously hurt.

As the bus started off again, Ruchika could see the driver chewing the last of the idli and belching. Blobs of foul smelling chutney of a sickly green colour were splattered over his mouth and shirt.  The magic idli had met the fate of all idlis, leaving behind no proof of its supernatural powers.

"Oof! What a night," Nikhil grumbled. "To top it all, that idli I ate from the roadside stall is giving me a tummy ache. The chutney must have had a ton of chillies and the coconut was rotten. I HATE idlis."

"I did too," said Ruchika. "But I'll never turn up my nose at an idli again."