I hate April 1

(PS: All characters and situations in this story are a figment of imagination; any semblance to people around us is merely coincidental.)

I have always been a big fan of good food. The sight, thought or taste of exquisite dishes turns me on, elevates my mood and makes me ecstatic. As most of us, authentic Kerala cuisine is one of my favorites. When I say that I am ready to catch the first bus any weekend to land in one of the ‘naadan thattukadas’ dotting the Alappuzha-Changanassery state highway, just for the soft fluffy palappams and divine mutton stew, you might think that I am exaggerating! But I know myself better. I have been there and done that already!

I must confess that I do regularly gatecrash into wedding parties in most of the churches in Trivandrum city limits for the same reason! A couple of times, the relatives of the newlyweds have even intervened and questioned my connection with them. Thank God, entry to those marriages was not restricted “by invitation only”!

So deep is my love affair with palappam that sometimes I sit and wonder whether I had any strong bond with it in my last birth too. Believe it or not, I’d love to eat palappam for breakfast, brunch, lunch and dinner, and still feel as if I haven’t seen one for several months together.

Now, please don’t mistake this to be a description of my food preferences. This is the story of a cold-blooded deception! This is about how people whom you trust can leave you high and dry, especially on a calendar day earmarked for vulnerable, unsuspecting souls like me – April 1! Oh, how I hate that day!

My small group of friends in office shares my commitment to food, and most of them are well aware of my weakness for palappam. All of us make it a point to enjoy the lunch hour, by sharing our lunchboxes and supplementing them with extra dishes bought from any of the restaurants nearby, as and when we feel so inclined.

Minu is particularly benevolent among all in this small group. She likes to donate most of the food she brings, much to our delight. And usually her lunchbox contains ‘yummy stuff’ that we all look forward to. Unfortunately, she seldom gets to taste her own food, because the moment she opens her box, all she can see is a dozen hands rummaging through it. At the end of this hustle, Minu satisfies her hunger with a glass of hot water and leftover food from our boxes.

So, as usual, I woke up this April 1 morning, praying to God for my ‘daily bread’, a sumptuous lunch spread, and also the world’s welfare. Had I dreamt about steamy palappam the previous night, or was it something else? The first thought that crossed my mind that morning was about delicious palappam. May be due to the long gap of two days, my body was already craving for it. I was preparing for my usual morning jog into the kitchen to check ‘what’s cooking’, and my phone rang.

Minu. She asked whether I would like palappam and vegetable stew for lunch! I pinched my arm once. No, I wasn’t dreaming again. I asked her hoarsely in true MTV style: “Can you repeat the question, please?” She obliged, and this time, I made sure I had heard her right. How sweet of her! I said I’m looking forward to it and that she was the sweetest creature in this world. As I started explaining how much I was missing palappam that morning, she cut me short: “Bye, then.” No, no, she wasn’t being curt. She is always like that – matter-of-fact. But very compassionate and considerate, whatsoever. God bless her!

Overjoyed, I announced at home that I wouldn’t want anything for lunch that day. I called another friend in my team – Jean -- (poor man had to get lunch from hotels these days, after his family left on a vacation) and told him that I’d get lunch for both of us that day. Throwing my lunchbox aside, I started from home, whistling a jolly tune.

As soon as I reached office, I made sure that Jean had not bought lunch, and we started discussing how much of effort goes into the making of tasty palappam. Minu had not mentioned anything about accompaniments to the dish, such as stew or curry. But we were sure that Minu would be kind enough to include these as well in her extra lunchbox, since she was already bringing us the palappam.

All through the little intervals in between work, I day-dreamed about digging my fingers into the first palappam during lunch. Twice I tried to call Minu just to check if everything was in order. Her line was busy.

I don’t know if there’s something wrong with my metabolism – it just heats up when I start thinking about food. So, by lunch time, my tummy was almost like a furnace. Jean came up and popped the much-awaited question, “Shall we?” I locked my computer and sprang up. But where was Minu? I tried her phone again. She didn’t pick up. Was something wrong? Jean drove away my doubts: “She must be busy. She will call back as soon as she sees your missed call.”

We went to the cafeteria and drank some lukewarm water. They say warm water accelerates your digestive mechanism. I really hoped that she brought more than at least a dozen palappams, because I was really hungry that day. I also hoped that she had kept the stew below room temperature – such dishes get spoiled very quickly during summer, you see.

Time ticked away, and reached that point when all restaurants nearby started washing their dishes and mopping their floors after a busy lunch hour’s business. I was feeling a strong tug in my tummy – the kind I usually feel when I am fasting for the fifth consecutive hour. Still, no sign of Minu. Was something seriously wrong? “Should tell her that from next time onwards, she can keep her lunchbox in my desk, so that there’s no waiting involved. God, this is painful,” I thought aloud.

At that very moment, my phone rang. Minu! I picked up and started telling her (rather yelling at her) that it was already very late, and that we were very hungry, and that there’s a limit to waiting for her, and where was she after all?

“APRIL FOOL! “she said, chuckled, and cut the call.

All I could hear was the strange buzz that rings in your ear, when you are crazily hungry and when you don’t even have the remotest hope of getting food any time soon, and the grinding of Jean’s teeth. I felt dizzy.

I wasn’t sure whether this was Minu’s idea of a joke or her sweet revenge. Whatever it was, I hated April 1.