The Great Paraat Search

Note: A paraat is a kind of deep, huge trayish plate thing.

Detective Aaji was on the case. Three days ago, a paraat had mysteriously disappeared from the kitchen. Ever since then the whole household had been suffering from the suspense created by the disappearance. Everyone from the maid to my mother were scared and suspicious.

Strangely enough, Aboli didn't care. Maybe it was something to do with the fact that she left home at 7.00 am and returned at 4.00 pm, which, of course, weren't the best times to bring up the disappearance of a paraat.

For two days aaji searched and searched for that elusive paraat. No place from the smallest corner to the most obvious countertop was left unsearched. Of course, it being aaji doing the searching, there were no visible signs of it. No stone was left unturned, but then each unturned stone was put back in its place.

But then, there came that day of decision. Aaji brought up the topic in the evening, on the dinner table. Aboli was inside, peacefully reading a book. Mom, aaji and aajoba discussed all possible reasons for its disappearance, from the maid taking it, to having accidently left it in the terrace with something in it to dry. But no, nothing.

Then mom casually came into Aboli's room and looked around and lo! there it was! The elusive, beautiful paraat, shining in the fluorescent light of the tubelight. There it was, in a blue cloth bag under Aboli's desk. Next to it was Aboli, calmly and serenely reading a thick green book. Mom laughed hysterically. Aboli looked up, startled from her trance.

After giving Aboli details on just how amazingly blockheaded she was, mom asked Aboli how she wanted to justify taking the paraat to school without permission. To which Aboli gave the calm and cool reply,

" There was an experiment in school and I needed it".

Mom (apopletic with rage) thundered,

" And what bulbs did you light in your wonderful experiment?"

" I didn't do it yet."

One more poem

This one's for Republic Day.

FREEDOM
By Aboli Joshi


India is a land of the people
A place where peace prevails
Where rich men and poor ones alike
Are free of any chains.

Our Constitution decrees that all
Are equal- no matter what.
For men of different caste or colour
No doors may ever be shut.

But most important- we all are free
We may do as we like
With freedom of speech and action
We’ll handle all our plights

But our freedom is being wasted by all
No value for what we get
We act with irresponsibility
And break the laws that are set.

Murderers, thieves and swindlers exist
They abuse our precious freedom.
With sly minds, cunning plans and hate
They curse our leaders to martyrdom.

But all I can say, is that come what may
Responsibility pays.
Using our freedom to do good deeds
Is the requirement of the day.

If we work together and try our best
We can stop this unfair abuse.
Instead of allowing our youth to go waste
Let’s put those bright minds to good use!

Dinnertime at the Joshis

Scene One. Absolutely colossal dining table. Mom sitting in the middle. Aboli next to her. Dad at the head of the table. Grandpa at the other end. Grandmother somewhere in between. Omkar next to Grandma.

Grandma: Ooohh, my back aches. Today I cleaned the house, watered the plants, cooked for you all... (Proceeds to rattle off inventory of domestic work done in the day). And I didn't even get to lie down!

Grandpa (flaring up): Why do you even bother? Why have we hired a maid? To clean the house. You keep going on about how you have to work... (proceeds in an alarming manner, turning red and banging his fist on the table)

Grandmother: See, these are the kind of comments I receive after a long day working. Why I even got married to him I don't know...

(Grandmother and Grandfather argue furiously. Aboli and Dad exchange smirks. Mom looks tired and worried. Omkar, of course, proceeds to laugh his head off.)

Dad: OK, stop it you guys. All you do is argue.

Grandma and Grandpa (in unison): We are NOT arguing! This is our way of talking to each other!

Dad: Yeah right. (smirks again)

Aboli: Dad, I didn't get this Math problem, tell me later.

Grandpa: Yeah yeah, you know what, Ankush, this girl doesn't study at all when you're at office and when you come home she makes a big show of asking you problems... (again gets worked up and yells)

Omkar (suddenly): Ajoba, Tarak Mehta!

Grandpa: Oh! (gets up and all but runs to his room)

Omkar: Aai, I'm done. (gets up to wash his hands)

Mom: No way young man, you are finishing your dinner and then, I will think about letting you watch TV.

Omkar: Aai pleeaassee!!!! I'm full!

Mom: Nope.

Grandma: Aboli get me the milk.

Dad: Aboli, and bring that chutney from the fridge.

Mom: Oh God, I almost forgot! There's yesterday's _______ in the fridge (fill in the blank), heat it up and bring it.

Omkar: Aaji, toooop!

Grandma: Aboli, bring me the ghee.

Dad: Aboli!

Mom: Aboli!

Grandma: Aboli!

Omkar: DIDI!!!!

(Aboli proceeds to throw a spectacular fit replete with stamping of feet and screaming)

I will NOT do four things at once! Can't you tell me a single thing at a time? I can not DO all of this at once....................

Dad: ABOLI!!! Shut up and bring the chutney or I'll wake you up tomorrow by singing in your ear!

(Aboli promptly shuts up and gets the stuff)

Grandma: So, Aboli, how many marks did you get in Maths in the Unit Test?

Aboli: Umm, well, umm, it's like, I did better than last time.....

Dad: How much???

Aboli: 35

Dad: Out of?

(Atmosphere is deadly quiet. Even Omkar does not dare to make a sound)

Aboli: 60

(Grandma explodes)

What?

Aboli (sulkily): It's better than last time!

Grandma: Better than last time? What an insult! (to dad) Look at the way she backtalks! No respect at all! I did a better job raising my children! Whenever they didn't study, I'd spank them hard enough to make them cry. Then they'd listen...

Dad (impatiently): Yes, I know! (to Aboli) So, what are we going to do? (glares at her for a few minutes) Huh? (glares again. Aboli starts crying.) Do you want me to send you to boarding school? I've seen your papers, and it's clear that all your problems lie in arithmetic. Now, I've told you a million times that the only way to achieve good marks is through practice...

(Starts giving the long-winded lecture that unfortunately covers all topics of conflict in our house. Aboli gets bored. Doorbell rings)

Mom (jumping up): That must be the dhobi.

Aboli (eagerly): I'll see!

Dad: No. You sit here and listen. (To mom) You go see...

(She leaves. Grandma starts cleaning up. Dad is still boring Aboli.)
Dad: Now I want you to go inside and start practising your Maths portion. Go!

Aboli: Ummm... Dad?

Dad: Yes?

Aboli: Umm, see, I...

Dad (giving a suspicious look): What?

Aboli: Umm, I forgot to tell you my class test marks...

Dad (glaring): And they are?

Aboli: Umm...

Dad: Spit it out!

Aboli: 23.

(Deadly silence)

Dad (quietly): Out of?

Aboli: 40

(Silence is deafening. Aboli starts edging towards room)

Grandma (suddenly): WHAT???

CURTAIN