Every Sunday, my husband enters the kitchen to prepare food. Every Sunday, we are made guinea pigs for tasting his culinary achievements which are always disastrous in taste and appearance, and no amount of cajoling and no amount of protests can stop his Sunday forays in my domain. Like every Sunday he asked us ” what shall I make for you today?” When he was greeted with sullen silence, he said “don’t worry, today I will make a dish which will make you lick your fingers!”

“And pray what is the dish?” I questioned him.

“Bajias”, he announced triumphantly “just like the ones you get at kalus shop which we will eat with brown bread and plenty of ketchup.”

“What do you say Golden?” he asked our daughter.

“Not again dad, you always promise to make something nice, but every Sunday we end up eating food which I just cannot swallow, leave alone eat.”

“You always underestimating my culinary expertise, today you will change your opinion when I present the bajias before you”, he said and the next moment he disappeared into the kitchen. For two hours, everything was silent in the kitchen, neither was there any aroma of frying bajias. Cautiously I peeped into the kitchen and what did I see? The whole place looked as if it had been hit by a storm; my hubby dear was stirring a bowl of yellow watery liquid.

“What happened?” I asked him

“It is this bloody recipe book; see what I have got here by following this damn book.” I ran my eyes over the recipe “there is nothing wrong with the recipe” I said. And then noticing an empty soda bottle on the worktop, I asked him suspiciously ”have you been drinking again?”

“Oh this,” he said seizing the bottle “I have used this soda to make the batter and see what have I got.”

“You have mixed this soda in the batter?” I asked amazed.

“It is given here”, he answered pointing to the recipe” I burst out laughing ”jaan, the soda given here is bicarbonate of soda and not this soda”

“oh,” he replied sheepishly. “I know of only one soda which I use in my drinks, I have never heard of this other soda ,I am sorry, very sorry darling please forgive me.”

“If you want me to forgive you then you must make a solemn promise to me that you will never again enter my kitchen.”

“Yes but------

“No buts------“

“Alright I promise.”

“Now go and freshen up while I clear up the place and make some really hot and delicious bajias and you can have your drinks to”

“You are a darling my jaan”, he said scooping me up in his arms and doing an impromptu jig in the kitchen.