Cousin's taken us out for a lovely meal to a small, little vegetarian joint in Lokhandwala or 4 bungalows (thereabouts). We've just polished off palak khichdi (my favorite, favorite type of khichdi), daal, aaloo gobi, pudina parathas, and a bowl of very nicely prepared raita. In fact, the raita was pretty simple, yet it looked and tasted so lovely! Just some chunks of cucumber mixed with beaten curd and topped with a thick slice of a juicy, red tomato. The bowl looked and tasted so wholesome and pure - like it had packed in all sorts of cool, soothing goodness that comes in handy during summers.
The treat is in honor of some producer finally paying my cousin his dues. So, he and my mum are generally talking about how miracles happen and stuff like that. I'm thinking about my work and feeling a little blue. A lot blue, in fact. I'm feeling like the 20,000 league mid-layer of a deep ocean.
"What happened to you?", asks my cousin.
"You want jelly and ice-cream?", asks my mother. (Why my mother thinks I, at the age of 30, should be sulking for jelly and ice-cream, I don't know. Maybe she's mistaken me for my brother.)
"I just happen to have a lot on my mind," I snap.
"So this producer...he couldn't afford the muhurat there, so this hero arranged for it in Yashraj Studios...." My cousin chatters on.
"Yashraj Studios? Near that dirty lane, no? That lane near that ...", my mum.
"Yeah, yeah...that one."
So no one is listening to me. I drop a fork accidentally.
"What IS wrong with you?!", my cousin looks alarmed. Gasp! Dropping a fork is such a strong indicator of dysfunction. How perceptive of him to get that!
"Well, nothing...its just that...my job, you know...", I start hesitatingly.
"You still have it, right?," my cousin asks.
"Yes", I reply.
"Then WHAT!?", my mum's getting impatient now, what with all this time being spent on my seemingly non-existent problems when she could be finding out such trivia from inside the Yash Raj studios.
"Well, sometimes I wonder if I'm good enough. (a longish pause.) I wonder why I think that."
"Maybe because you're not." My cousin's really the one with all the helpful advice.
"Exactly!", says my mother.
Now, see, THIS is why people go and live in caves.