Guddi ran into the pantry and reached for the batter. She had to make the pakoras. It had been raining since the morning and the ambiance presented a tantalizing mystique about it, one that is usually accompanied by a long spell of rainfall. The grass in the backyard looked a shade of green that made her giddy with glee. There was a scent of wet mud in the air, the effervescent fumes of mother earth that the rain normally accentuates not to mention a hint of faint thunder in the distance that made her culinary senses rumble with each falling droplet.
She would mix the gram flour batter in water and add her preferred condiments such as sliced onion, diced spring onion, crushed coriander, and cut green chili flavored by spices like red chili powder, garlic powder, some seasoning, and a garnish of salt to stir it all up into a nice dough like fluff and then make little dumpling balls of those pakora delicacies and fry them in oil – for the kids she would just baste the wet gram flour batter garnished with salt onto thinly sliced potatoes to fry them into nice and crunchy potato pakora delicacies and then serve those heavenly delicatessens for the whole family with hot tea while everyone sat together and enjoyed a laugh together savoring the perfect complementary food with such an endearing shower of rain.
The Perfect Ingredients – Pakoras
There was a spring in Guddi’s step even as she got busy walking herself through every step of the process for she wanted to make sure to get each ingredient right – it wasn’t too often that weather as stupefying for the senses came around. As she started to pound on the batter, she hummed a rain song titled “Bheegi Bheegi raaton mein phir tum aayo na, aisi barsaaton mein aayo na”, which loosely translates to, “Let’s get together again on a wet night, come see me in the downpour”. She was full of joy and spirit. A tiny smile broke out on her face and she had goose bumps as her thoughts wandered off to Tanveer, the love of her life. All steps accomplished, Guddi was now ready to deep fry the pakoras she had made so fondly.
The rain had steadied into a nice little drizzle with a faint rumble still audible from afar. Her mystical fascination with the moment inspired her to make ginger tea to go along effervescently with the mouth-watering pulse cakes she had created. Just as she was done pouring the last batch of her rain pakoras from the frying pan into the platter dish she heard the keys turn in the main door – her heart skipped a beat. She knew that Tanveer was home for lunch.
