Childhood II - Channa-choor

For Diya -
It was the winter of 1993, except Madras has no winter. I was 7 years old, my sister, 5 and a half. So it was the winter of '93. Our cousins were visiting us. Jethu (the elder brother of my father), Jethi (his wife) and my two cousins Diya and Doyel. Diya is elder to me by 6 months and was taller by as many inches at that time. She also had amazing strength which multiplied in geometric progessions when she was enraged. Her short-fused temper did not help anything either. So it was only natural that we got into quite a few scuffles in our time, I with my irritating nature and she, with her temper. Apart from her temper of course, she had long nails which she had learnt to use quite adeptly. I was thus, a little careful to keep on the right side of the fence, having got mauled on quite a few occassions. But then there is this bug in my head, which just can't live without causing me to get into trouble. It makes me say the most outrageous things in the worst of times, makes me do things that drives the last nail into coffins thus closing out things that had a half chance of happening. Anyway, it was this bug that earned me yet another beating. It was my fault of course, having started it the night earlier. I was chasing Diya around the house when she manged to lock me out and was looking at me through the keyhole. In my frustration, I spat through the keyhole.... and ran away. Next time I saw her she was fast asleep.
The next day went by rather uneventful until we had guests visiting in the evening. Ma had served refreshments and among them was a bowl full of delicious looking channa choor. I managed to take a pinch and put it in my mouth to realize it was the hottest thing I had ever eaten. I had to rush to the wash-basin and hold my tongue under the tap to actually calm myself. That followed by 2 glasses of cold water made it possible to compose myself a little. My tongue was still throbbing from the extreme stimulation it had been through. In such a state of unease, a kid would normally withdraw himself and look for his mother but not I. The genius that I think myself to be immediately came up with an idea that was the best of that century.
I walked up to Diya and told her "Have you tasted the channa-choor Ma has served the guests? It is the best ever! She saves it only for the guests because its so rare. Now is your chance to eat some! I just did! Darooon channa-choor!" She looked at me unsuspectingly - that is one trait she has even today. She is absolutely genuine and believes all people around are just like her. She nodded and started walking towards where the guests were seated. I was so excited! Ahhhh! Lamb to the Slaughter! I had to control myself from running up to her and telling her how I had fooled her! But not yet. I was almost too afraid to watch actually. I hid behind a wall, with only my eyes peeping from around the corner. I saw her walk up to the table, take a whole handful, thats right, one handful of the stuff and put it directly into her mouth. She then stood there for a second, unmoved, the expression on her face not changing even a twich and then quietly started chewing as she sat beside her mother and listened to the conversation in the room. I was baffled at first and then very very disappointed. I just could not conceive any reason why the plan didn't work! It was fool-proof, except that it had Diya in it (these are the thoughts I had back then, not now). How could it have failed? The feeling of disappointment then turned to grief - was I such a sissy that I had been put off by a pinch of chana-choor that was perhaps, not so hot? Diya had just eaten a mouthful without moving a brow!
But just like most things at that age, it went out of my mind by the time I was walking to my bed after dinner. That was when I found out the hard way, how well my plan had worked. All of a sudden I found myself looking at the ceiling instead of in front. That was because someone had got hold of my scalp and pulled my head backwards. From the nails digging into my head, I knew at once it was Diya. I flailed my arms around, failing to make contact. Then I found 4 fingers streak across my cheek. I screamed. Our parents came rushing out to seperate us. All I heard Diya shout something that sounded like "Jhaal Chana-choor!". It could have been and I'm sure that it would have been worse had our parents not rescued me.
It was not before the next day that our parents discovered the truth and had a good laugh about it. Years later I felt a little bad for Diya and how hard done she had been back then, our parents had had a laugh about it instead of rightfully spanking me. But that takes nothing away from the absolute thrill I get when I remind myself of my brilliant, almost fool-proof plan!