Christmas Confession – The Cake in Me

I love eating cakes.  Every time I eat, I get hypnotized by its taste, texture and aroma. Till the last bite, it’s only me and my cake!

Almost every evening of my childhood ended with a cake. Chocolate Cake, Japanese cake, Pink cake, Roll cake, Cup-cake, Honey cake, Apple cake – the list was fascinating. And the child in me had a secret crush for the Chocolate roll cake. I thought the creamy inner layer in the roll was another cake hidden inside!

Till I was 10, either my mom or dad used to buy cakes for me. It was in my 5^th standard summer vacation, I started visiting the small bakery nearby. 

Wow! It was small, yet contained everything I wanted. I would run through the display many times, but finally would settle for my delicacy – Chocolate roll! (After many years, I learnt what was called chocolate roll in my native is actually the Swiss Roll J. But let me continue addressing it as chocolate roll J ).

 With my frequent visits, I befriended the girl Pavani, who worked in the shop.  She was very good at spinning stories. Yes, I mean it. She would transform magically, my cake eating time, to a journey to an unseen wonderful land!

Of course time is fleeting. I moved out of my native. On the last day, I packed 20 chocolate rolls and bid a sad goodbye to my favorite bakery and dear friend.  I didn’t know who I would share those 20 rolls with. But I just wanted them all! As simple as that!

Higher Education, Employment, Marriage, Kids. Nothing took my love for cakes away. In whichever city I was, I would first get to know the nearest bakery.

But there is a strange thing about the whole story.

I had tried eating cakes from posh pastry shops to small road side tea shops. And all of them were perfect. But believe me - something was missing.  Something was empty.  There had always been a craving for something more that I wasn’t able to identify until recently. 

Last month as I was walking down the busy streets of my neighborhood, I stumbled upon a small dull shop. I had passed by that shop many a times.  And it had never impressed me.  I saw some of the display covered with canvas cloth and I didn’t bother to know much about it. As I desperately wanted water, I decided to walk into the shop.

Suddenly, a strong aroma, which has been known to me for more than 25 years, engulfed me - the same mesmerizing aroma, which the small bakery in my hometown used to house.  I was thrilled.

Presently, a middle aged lady came out from a rear room and took off the canvas and settled all the trays there.  As she removed the canvas, there it was again, my favorite chocolate roll!  But I still remembered to ask her for water.

God! She bore a striking resemblance to Pavani . But I understood she was in no way connected to her. Interestingly, she too was good at conversing and had her own style of weaving stories. Half an hour seemed too short a time.  Do I need to mention I bought couple of rolls?

That day I got back home, quickly prepared dinner and sat down to open the rolls. Something in me churned, opened up and there was an outbreak of joyous cry! 

Behind my closed eye lids, I saw a cake, full of life that I have been searching for ! I could connect to it and relate to it. The every bit of my walking that I did as a child and the sweet days I spent with Pavani came racing back to me.  

What caused the jubilation? Was it the aroma? Was it my meeting with the one who resembled Pavani? Was it the conversation that I had with the woman at the shop?

Moments of silence slipped smoothly….

The answer was ‘YES’ for all. And then it dawned on me, all these days, I have been trying to eat the good memories in the form of cake. Not the cake itself.

I confessed to my beloved roll.

This revelation – What more does it mean?      

      

Does it mean, whether good or bad, I’ve been searching for that ‘something’ that has deeply touched me? And in the process, am I failing to do justice for the ‘NOW’, when I can make great moments than building memories? Do I need to stop chewing the chewed?

Yes, it’s high time I did!

Now, within me, I see all the Christmas stars glowing in all its brightness!

Do you want to follow suit?  

Talking with Perfumes

Fragrances have always been enthralling me. Incidents in my life, are governed by fact, time, people, relationship and fragrance ! I greatly believe that fragrances have with them, the unseen key to tamper the mystical winding's of our memory lanes.

It was a sunny afternoon and I was engrossed in repelling the lizards, cockroaches, spiders and cob webs while cleaning my room’s loft. The little creatures drifted away hastily due to the sudden interruption.  My hands went twitchy as they opened an old decorative wooden box, rather “Treasure Box”.

A small square shaped bit of news paper well preserved in a shiny plastic cover.  My memories went spiral. Tears dripped down my cheeks. I was hardly 6 years when my grandfather gave me peppermints wrapped in this news paper sheet. It made me so joyful to eat and smell the peppermints for the first time in my life. I felt the chillness of peppermint in my throat and the joy it brought on my grandpa’s face.

Hey!..the Lavender and White plastic pencil box! My cherished treasure since I was 7.  It had cuts and stains as its decoration.  Carved on its top were me and my friend’s name. I carefully slid opened it and found empty incense sticks and camphor covers - The most economical, no harm perfumes that were sure to be found in all household cupboards. It was then the first time, I started having the urge to make perfume as an identity of my personality. I remember us both sharing growing friendship in exchange to our parents shouting at the quickly emptying camphor and incense sticks at home J !

Few silverfishes escaped, as my hands went full with smooth pebbles. At 10, they were gold to me. I used to close my eyes and gently caress them against my tender cheeks. And I always looked down while walking, praying that I gather more pebbles that day.  It made me think that each day, the garden, the lawn and my school ground were all seen by me for the first time, afresh! I used to hold together couple of pebbles, chanting secret mantras, believing that it would bring new aroma every time, when separated. And we all friends involved in the pebbles search, agreed that they did bring a new smell only for those who are “truly“good among us! J . Surprisingly my collection also won the price under the category “Not so common hobbies” that time!!

I heard the jingling sound stop as my son 9 year old son grabbed a rounded iron coin with a hole in its middle that slipped off my palm, on to the floor. He was completely curious and climbed the steps to the loft. His eyes shone in eagerness with his grapes like eye balls.

“Amma, what is this and what are you doing here?”.

“ Yes dear, this is the first coin in my first piggy bank”.

“First coin?!!”, he laughed.

“Yes, this was coin in practice which my great grand parents used. And you know this is lucky treasure to me till today that if I smell it once, think something big and keep it safe, what I wished for happens!”

His eyes were wonder struck and asked me, “Amma, Can you share more ?”

I took him to a trip down my memory lane and told him how the newspaper preserved, reminds me that love is no costly and can transparently be expressed through simple gifts. While the Lavender box reinstates innocence and bonding that we lose over years. And how a simple hobby if done with passion could even win hearts and get awards.

I asked my son,” Dear, tell me what do you treasure most ? And what perfume would you like to preserve?”

“Amma, he called out as he hugged me. “I don’t know if I would have a box like you. But all that I can tell you is I like you so much and you always smell good; the perfume which is always with me and that requires no preservation….”.

I broke down in bliss. The one answer that made me discover a treasure that I would cherish across births!