As the school bus passed Gautam’s house, his buddy Anmol nudged him and said, “Why no Deepavali murukkus this time, bro?”
Gautam’s friends waited for Deepavali because his Ajji’s festive food was legendary. Not just the benne murukkus that she packed and sent to school, but also her badam halwa was really tasty. But the most delicious was her avvalakki payasa.
Anmol had noticed that the usually elaborate rangoli that Gautam’s mother decorated their doorstep with during festivals was missing. Had everyone gone out of town? What would Deepavali be like on their lane without his Ajji’s specials, Anmol worried.
As Gautam entered his unusually quiet house, he found his normally cheery grandmother absent mindedly dusting some shelf that had not a speck of dust on it.
Last week, his mother’s dad in Puttur had slipped on the stairs, broken his ankle and had to undergo a surgery. So Amma, Appa and his sister Vedika had left in a hurry. And with the house empty, all Ajji seemed to think about was Ajja, who’d passed away two years ago.
Though, like Anmol, Gautam too missed Ajji’s busy pre-Deepavali cooking. He was beginning to worry about Ajji’s listlessness. Hadn’t Ajja too turned quiet and withdrawn before his heart attack?
His first plan was to call the family doctor but he hesitated. Instead he announced one evening, “Ajji, all my friends moms are asking for your payasa recipe… I’m getting irritated.” Absent-mindedly, Ajji looked up from heating Gautam’s evening Horlicks drink and said, “Ayyoo… I must make and send for all our neighbours.” But her face showed no enthusiasm.
But Gautam was not going to be put off. “No Ajji, you can’t make and send for everyone with Amma not at home... I told them I’ll shoot a video of you making the payasa and share it with them…okay?” Gautam acted super confident, as he dumped all the payasa ingredients on the kitchen counter. He was not sure Ajji would agree.
For a moment, Ajji hesitated, opening her mouth to protest, but then Gautam saw the old sparkle back in her eyes and she said, “Check if there’s a bottle of home-made ghee in the fridge.”
He hadn’t told Ajji that by ‘sharing a video of her avalakki payasa’ he actually meant getting Ajji on Insta.
So once the payasa was ready, and he’d gobbled up a big bowl of it claiming to be the ‘taster’, he tagged Amma, Appa and all the neighbourhood aunties. He had uploaded the first Instagram reel of ‘My Ajji’s Deepavali specials’.
He decided he’d tell Ajji about it, depending on everyone’s response. The first was from Vedika: “I don’t like the name, Ajji…let’s call your page something more fun.”
When a furious Gautam told Anmol about this, he laughed and said, “I agree with Vedika, bro…ask people to suggest names.”
But Ajji’s close fans were more interested in her food. Anmol’s mother asked for the wheat halwa recipe. Amma grumbled that the Internet was so bad on their farm outside Puttur that she recorded Ajji’s payasa recipe while parked on NH 275, then drove home and made it for her dad.
Soon Ajji was back in her happy pre-Deepavali mood. Dressed in crisp cottons, Gautam shot her making delicacies. The aunties on their road had tried out every one of the dishes she’d post on Insta.
From Puttur, Vedika’s alternate name suggestions kept popping up on Ajji’s Insta page…everyone voted on her last suggestion of ‘MyAjjiIsAChef’.
On Deepavali day, Gautam planned a Zoom celebration with those at Puttur. Ajji was confused to see her son, daughter-in-law, grand-daughter and her still-recuperating, wheelchair-bound father, all dressed up grandly, but outside a grubby chicken coop. After all the greetings, Ajji asked Amma, “When did your father begin rearing chickens?”
Puttur Thatha laughed and said, “We’re in front of our neighbour’s chicken coop and firewood shed – this is the only place that has stable Internet connection today, Akka!” Ajji’s face melted into that soft smile that told Gautam that all was well with his dear grandmother. She hugged him tight and spoke into the camera, “It makes us feel so special that you have all gone to such lengths so that we can celebrate Deepavali together. Now be careful when you wheel your father back home.” Gautam didn’t end the Zoom call till he’d panned the phone camera over all the food Ajji had made, just for Gautam and herself.
Insta Ajji had been a good idea, he congratulated himself quietly.
(Kavitha Mandana is a children’s author.)
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