An awkward baadoota

RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE

Baadoota, a non-vegetarian feast, is quite popular in the old Mysuru region. Such a feast is usually held on the eve of Mahalaya Amavasya, a festival observed to remember our ancestors, hosa thodaku post-Ugadi and beegara authana, a grand lunch for relations and friends served by boys family after the marriage.

In joint families, the onus of serving baadu lies with grandmother. In villages, during beegara authana, the kith and kin of the host prepare the dishes. Once my uncle, who hosted beegara authana requested a relative who was not involved in the cooking, to taste dishes and comment on if the meat had been cooked? His invitees, who had actually cooked the food were annoyed that my uncle did not prioritise them to taste the dishes and silently left the premises without even taking the food.

Chenna, uncle’s contemporary, was strong and healthy and could manage any amount of food without discomfort. He used to visit my uncle’s house every evening and strike up a conversation with him. He would chatter on about all and sundry with his tongue moving like a sewing machine and would only conclude when my aunt invited him for dinner. If he sensed that vegetarian food was available, he would politely refuse the invitation saying, “Avva your sister is waiting at home for me to serve food. I have to go, she will get annoyed otherwise”.

In another instance, when baadoota was prepared, Chenna had come to visit in the evening. Since it was prepared only for family members, my aunt was not keen to host him. Chenna, who had sniffed out the aroma of baadoota, did not want to miss and deliberately prolonged the discussion expecting my aunt’s invitation. With no option left, my aunt reluctantly invited Chenna, “Anna wash your hands to have food”.

Chenna was just about to strike with his uppish reply that his wife is waiting at home when my aunt let out a sigh of relief and said, “is it so Anna?” Shocked by aunt’s reaction, clever Chenna reacted, “Avva, please serve, otherwise, you will be annoyed at me for not accepting your food, my posterity may have to carry the blame forever for not obliging your invitation”. With no option left, my aunt served badoota to both of them. You can imagine the horrid consequences after the departure of Chenna. My uncle consoled my aunt saying “In every crumb, the name of the consumer is written”. My aunt replied that every crumb you eat has the name of the person who feeds you.