“What
will you have, cold or hot?” only an Indian of Indian origin who has lived in
India since childhood will know what this means.
“Cold-drink” is an
Indianism. All non-alcoholic, non-brewed drinks are ‘cold’. You can have a non-refrigerated,
without-ice, room-temperature ‘cold-drink’, too. A ‘cold-drink’ has to come out
of a sealed bottle or tetra-pack, preferably aerated and with an MNC logo. Freshly-made
lemon/ ‘kokum’/’ panha’
juices aren’t authentic. ‘Oos’-juice,
‘lassi’ and coconut-water are
also disqualified.
If you say no to the ‘cold-drink’,
pat will come the next confrontation: “tea or coffee?” In my world, only the
weird and the ill take either without ‘half-milk’ and several spoons of sugar.
Brown and sugarless are too five-starish for desi tastes.
If
you say no to all the above, you suffer. “No tea? No coffee? No cold-drink
even?” is followed by a wink indicating the discreet but wicked “’daaroo’, eh?”
Say a firm no if you
will, but you will not be spared. Hospitality must happen. You are Guest, guest
is God. A tray will be thrust into your face, accompanied by someone’s wide,
white smile with the words: “I’ve made it, now you’ll have to drink it.”
(In my experience, the
‘it’ is usually ‘hot’.)
‘…you’ll-have-to…’
is a killer phrase accompanied by an expression that reads:
let’s-see-how-you’ll-not-drink-it-now. I’m a ‘nirlajjam’, hence ‘sadaa-sukhee’. (Loosely translated: the shameless are
always happy.) I leave the tea/coffee in its cup, let the ‘malai’ form on it as it cools, let the flies explore
thereabout and remind myself that it’s better the host/ess suffers remorse for
forcing the beverage on me, than irritate my insides for the next few hours.
A
request of “plain water, normal temperature,” is thwacked by a protesting “you
must have something else.”
Victims
of ‘atitithee satkaar’ know
how seriously people take hospitality. You might want to finish off a portion
of a particularly dislikeable dish served to you at a formal meal in someone’s
house. The moment you do that, it gets replenished. You’ve been conditioned to
not leave any food on your plate (don’t waste, millions are starving) and don’t
want to suffer, either. Dilemma. Been there, done that, at several weddings
before the buffets came to the rescue, allowing me to serve myself what and how
much I wanted.
Ah,
weddings, the ultimate test of hospitality. If you’re closely related to
groom/bride, and you’re in an environment where Tradition Rules, you could suffer
from the stuff-syndrome. I’ve seen an extreme case of ‘ladoos’ being forced into a resisting mouth. The man’s tried
to push away the perpetrators, but his hands were pinned down and he was sternly
told that ‘no’ wasn’t acceptable on such an auspicious occasion. Finally he
gagged and threw up. Instant concern was shown, napkins were brought and the
mess wiped clean by willing hands. Hospitality showed its kinder face.
As
happened in all old civilizations, in my maternal home, people came when they
pleased, had a meal, maybe a snack and tea, several hours of chatting, and sometimes,
like in the case of a Lalit-tai, stayed on. Just stayed on. No one asked for how
long. Those who came from Goa (we were in Mumbai) or elsewhere, also stayed on
but then at least there was a return ticket involved. Tiny flat, school-work,
privacy, lack of money, were issues unknown.
In
more recent societies, hospitality is different.
I’m
invited to a well-travelled, lived-abroad person’s place where I’m told: “Want
something? It’s all in the fridge/ cupboard/ trolley. Help yourself.” Quandary
again. Can I eat that expensive-looking chocolate or not? Entirely? Without
offering it around to the others? Is it ok to do that? Does helping myself
include frying the fish that’s marinating in a transparent container? If I look
around curiously, would that amount to prying? Will I be irritating if I ask
these questions to the host/ess?
In this form of
hospitality, you are asked just once: “Want something?” A ‘no’ is taken
seriously. If you change your mind, you need to express it, however odd you
might feel, ‘specially if you belong to Egypt/ Greece/ Africa/ China/ or other
parts of the world where hesitating to ask and host/ess insisting on taking
more is the norm.
A moderate host/ess
these days might say, “I’m making some tea for myself, would you like some,
too?” Would be nice if s/he would say “I’m making some biryani, want to stay?”
An old-world charm married to practical today attitude.
Hotels take the cue from
custom and do “aarti-tikka” to
guests on arrival. Messy stuff, but…
“…Devo bhava.” I’ve
noticed how we show our Gods our affection: we smother their idols with fresh,
fragrant flowers, create clouds of smoke around them with scented ‘udbattis’ and ‘dhoop’, drench them with sticky
milk and honey. Gods don’t mind that display of fondness. Who am I, a mere
mortal, to frown on convention?
The next time someone
asks me “hot or cold?” I’m going to say, “bring ‘em both”. When in doubt, go
traditional.
Feedback: sheelajaywant@yahoo.co.in
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