FICTION: Ma’s Shorshe bata maach

She made shorshe Bata Maach, a surprise for him,

lest he said, I miss my Ma, again.

And it was not easy making that in a foreign land.

Mustard needed to be ground into a fine aromatic paste,

for which, she had no blender. So she resorted to the flat tasting mustard powder you got in Coles supermarket.

There was more misery- you got only fillets in that strange land,

how could one make shorshe bata with fish fillets?

But her talent and her ma’s training helped her make the most authentic mustard fish ever.

When he got back, he was in a fantastic mood. He gave her a glass of wine, for ‘company’s sake’ he told, (not because he knew she loved wine)

He spoke about his boss who wanted to promote him, his friend Anand, who was going back to India, of his parents, and his mum. His mum. He said he missed his mum’s food, and how hungry he was. And wished for the millionth time she was around to make him the awesome Shorshe Bata Maach.

He smelt the air and said, ‘I can almost smell it…ah the aroma…I am hungry…what’s for dinner? Chicken again, eh?’

She looked away.  (If he’d have even caught a glimpse of her right then, he’d have seen the finest shade of green)

She then said, ‘listen, there was nothing in the fridge, so no cooked food. Want me to open MTR’s Palak Paneer, it tastes great with all grain bread?