Coming out of the closet. In Punjab

A closet door opens. M comes out of it and starts walking with a determined look on his face, and fearful feeling in his heart. What would his parents say?

He enters the drawing room – where his parents and all his Ludhiana relatives are sitting; holding their drinks in their hand and laughing loudly; talking at the top of their voices to outshout each other.

He says loudly “Papa, mujhe kucch kehna tha”

Papa replies “ Bolo beta..accha just pass me the scotch from there”

“Papa mujhe mundiaan naal”..suddenly there is pin drop silence. “Papa mujho ladko ke saath..matlab ladkiyon ke saath..sharaab peena pasand nahin hain; mujho ladkon ke saath bhi sharaab peena pasand nahin hain”…everyone starts to look concerned..

“Infact sach to yeh hain ki mujho sharaab ka taste hi pasand nahin hain”

The entire family is shocked. Stare at each other, no idea how to respond. Religious nani looks on lovingly, Drunkard Uncle looks..well drunk. ‘Free’totaller cousin brother looks totalled. Alcoholic aunty gulps her wine down protectively. Aunty 2 who hates the taste too, but cant admit it, puts her glass down in relief.

Frequent ‘social’ drinker Father looks embarrassed, looks up and says “Tu kesa Punjabi hain”

“But papa, I am Punjabi. I love kulchas. Tandoori chicken vi pasand hain. I love lassi; and infact think ‘gudd’ is pretty good too..”

Drunk Uncle “Oye chup oye. Papa naal muh ladhanda hain. Pher drinks noo na chhua te haath kaat daanga”

Cousin “Tussi ainvayee naraaz ho rahe munde te. Nahin pasand te nahin pasand. Koi nahin beta, tu beer hi pee le...”

Move to scene where Mom & Dad are talking later

Dad : “Tune bigaad diya munde nu. Aur karo dharmik baatein. Aur baato gyaan. Aur kisne bola tha ki Fruit Beer pilaane ko”

Mom : “Aapne hi bola tha. Aapne socha Fruit Beer ka matlab hain Kingfisher mein Seb. Aur waise bhi, whats the problem. Non-veg to khaata hain, cigarette bhi kabhi kabhi mere se chura leta..aur pichle hafte I saw him smoking a joint too”

Dad : “No..thats not the same thing! Smoking is against our culture! Alcohol is the real thing; the sign of a true Punjabi. Mujhe to shak ho raha hain, ki ab DNA test karoon”

Mom : “How dare you? Bhool gaye ki he burped out loud in every single party till last year? What other proof do you want he is your child?” Mom runs off crying.

Dad : Hum to lut gaye. Kaun shaadi karega iske saath?

Next few days in Ludhiana – social ostracisation begins :

“Tu suneya Kapoor ji de munde de baare ch?”

“Munda boli da mitha hain, meinoon ki pata si je wo..”

“Saw him at 6 am that day when I was heading home. Looked completely sober even at that time! Wtf is wrong with him”

“Lets not call him for the cards party. People will be uncomfortable. What will I offer him?”

“I believe in equality of rights. To each his own. Like mine is Black Label, Happy likes Mc Dowells and Goldie from Canada likes Rosy wine”

Next Party – a day before M and family head back to Delhi

Uncle : “Aao beta aao. Kya loge. Dhoka Cola banaoo?”

Aunty : :Aur beta, Kaise ho. Peena shuru kiya ke phir relapse ho gaye ho Sprite pe”

Papa : “Nahin nahin, rehn do ji. Munda te khota nikleya..”

M now breaks out angrily : “Papa..sab aapki galti hain. (Now sadly with background score) 15 ki umar mein aapne hi bola – yeh le beta beer pee le. Itna kadwa taste, ki uske baad mujhe taste pasand hi nahin aaya. Aur college ke time ka saara rebellion to aapne us hi din nikaal diya – jab baap hi pila raha hain to rebel kisse karoon?”

Last scene : M slowly walks towards the closet, opens it and sits down. Angrily opens a bottle of mineral water; gulping it down bottoms up; much like Bollywood heroes down whiskey bottles. Music plays in the background….Mujhe peeni hain peeni hain..

The Taste Of Nostalgia

I grew up in Calcutta, err, Kolkata. Down the road from my house, there was this delectable little bakery shop called, Kookie Jar. It was the highlight of my week – laboring through tasks like school and tuitions to reach the day I would be able to sink my teeth into the creamy, soft, mouth watering bite of the Chocolate Pyramid, and over time, even the Chocolate Swiss Roll. When that weekly day arrived – that was all I could think of; the build up to the moment of eating was all encompassing. As I ate it, I slowly savoured each bite and when it was done – it lingered on for sometime – kind of like a moment of taste filled bliss that lasted the day. The longing coming back the next day – and the slow wait begins again, hovering in the back of the mind as one went through the week. As I grew up, it became my go to place, an instant uplift when I was low, my mental escape when things were stressful and my treat to myself for a job well done. As I moved out of the city, it was the one thing I looked out for – if anyone going back to Kolkata, friends, family, even the girlfriend – my standard one liner “Can you please carry back some Choc Swiss Roll” and I would do whatever it takes to pick it up! Honestly, sometimes I couldn’t even hide the excitement and the reason behind it – less about meeting the person and more about the pastries – am sure it was not hidden to them but were kind enough to oblige. It was bliss even then just to taste it again – and when I met friends from Kolkata we bonded over how there is just nothing like KJ. Having travelled and tried a Chocolate pastry almost everywhere I went; I unabashedly declared it was the best bakery in India, if not the world.

And one day I did the never before – I shared a bite with someone. Ok, so don’t get me wrong, I am not very selfish, and I like to share things. But with dessert, and certainly Kookie Jar, I just couldn’t bring myself to miss even one bite of that heavenly creation. But one day, in a moment of generosity, I did. And he looked at it, slowly bit it and said ‘Nice’. What!!?? Nice. That’s all you have to say? Have you ever tasted anything so divine. He said, not the same type, but yes I have had equally delicious desserts – different but delicious. I felt cheated, I remember, betrayed, that he react like this to my favourite dessert, and that too, when I shared from my small portion of 4 pastries. And, over the years, as my ability to wolf down four pastries in a few hours went down, forcing me to offer some to others, including my wife – it was the same reaction. Infact, my wife did like Kookie Jar, but something entirely different, the Lemon Tart.

And it slowly started to dawn on me, that maybe, just maybe, it was not as delicious as I believe. But what could be the difference – they admitted it was delicious, just not the best. What was the factor making the difference. And then it struck me, the feeling eating it brings to me – is a feeling you can get only when you have grown up with it. Its authentic taste and the good feelings it brings along with it. That taste, one I am getting now even as I write it, is real, its stored in the memories of my taste glands – is perhaps the Taste of Nostalgia – and I guess that’s why I no longer waste time trying to convince anyone on how good it is. My wife has learnt not to express any comparative opinion about it, and happily enjoy her Lemon Tart. And for the idiots who have dared to dislike it, or are the types who say no to dessert and promptly dig into one when its on the table, its one thing they are never offered. ‘Coz have learnt, like so many things, the taste experience too is subjective. And subjectively speaking, they're just idiots.

Taste Experience formulas for favourite food
Taste Experience formula (for solo consumption) – The actual taste + The taste of the feelings it brings
Taste Experience formula (for group consumption) – The actual taste + The taste of the feelings it brings – gut wrenching feeling of muted reactions/low excitement levels