A new morning had dawned in the ‘Kitchen Kingdom’. There seemed to be a buzz of energy running through all its subjects. Something new was going to happen!! There were going to be a few new additions to the kingdom if all the whispers and complaints were to be believed. My Mistresses’ daughter had bought in a new rolling rack, new tea cups, a weird looking strainer, and an army of jars to go with it. While the whole kitchen was complaining about this, I felt a little relieved that maybe, just maybe, this break in routine would spare my hide from being burnt for a few days. I was eagerly looking forward to the respite and lost myself in the fantasy. I was so busy reminiscing about my life before the terror of constant burning and cleaning of my precious self, that I missed all the “FUN” my counterparts were having. The subjects of the ‘Kitchen Kingdom’ were being reassigned, courtesy of the new additions. The rack, it seemed, was not for the new jars and oddities the daughter had introduced to the kitchen, but for the spices, herbs, seasonings and jars on the counters. The knives were especially smug as they had been removed from the corner of the counter and placed closer to the stove; This placed them right next to the stand which housed the cutting board and the rolling pin, their best friends. The garam masala and meat masala were reunited on the rack and were wailing about how they had missed each other. They went on and on about how they never wished to be parted again. The red chili powder seemed to have had no such luck as it was introduced to a new array of spices. It cast forlorn looks towards the counter, as it seemed to have taken up the position of referee without choice, and was dreading the coming days. The reason for this was the size of its container; it was tall and wide enough to form a natural barrier between the species and the masalas. The chili powder fits snugly between the turmeric powder and the chili flakes. While the chili powder was having an identity crisis, the chili flakes were beyond content; they kept peeking fondly at cousin pepper on the right and brother chili powder on the left, happy to be reunited with the family.
Amid all these new changes, the weirdest one was the addition of the new jars, which seemed to be filled with all sorts of fragrant herbs and oddities that had never before been seen within the Kingdom. There was another new addition, with a smoky green sheen with darker green striation and a heavy looking base. The jade green motor and pestle took place of pride on the top shelf of the rack.
After cleaning and rearranging the kitchen with the help of the maid, the daughter took me down from my place and gave me a good wash. She proceeded to make a nice spiced warm masala chai for my mistress, the maid and herself. I welcomed the ritual, as for a few precious minutes I could focus on the roiling bubbles, the fragrant steam, and the welcoming warmth of the stove to chase away the cacophony of the disgruntled subjects within the kitchen. Just as the daughter finished adding the masala into the boiling mixture of tea leaf, sugar, and water; My mistress came in massaging her forehead, saying, “Thank god that meeting is finally over! I am so very ready for a nice long weekend to begin. I still have to work, but at least there won’t be any meetings for the next few days.”
My mistress flopped down into a chair and
spent a few minutes with her eyes closed, breathing in the soothing scents of
the kitchen. When she finally opened her eyes, she looked around the kitchen in
shocked wonder, delighted to see everything in the room clean and organized.
She was doubly appreciative of the new order of things. Her daughter took her
around the kitchen and showed her where everything was kept, and as my mistress
reached the cupboards with the new additions, her daughter’s excitement was
palpable. She showed her mother the contents and told her she would tell her
all the details, but first to have some nice tea and relax. Saying this, the
daughter walked over to me and added in the milk. I faithfully bubbled, I
boiled and brewed the perfect concoction within me, all the while thanking the
stars when I was not even singed a little bit. A strange hope bubbled up in me
as I watched my beloved mistress sip her tea and chat with her daughter and the
maid, that just maybe, I would survive and could remain a part of this happy
family scene for a very long time. My mistress sang my praises, complimenting
my endurance and emphasizing my sturdy constitution. To suffer through the constant
burning, the suffocatingly long soaks and still make her the perfect pot of
tea, I had to be the absolute best.
The bells rung in my lightning heart
And a merry tune burst out of me with a start.
I will brew and I will bubble
A solution for all your troubles’
As there is nothing so bad, so dark and dreary
That can’t be solved, even for those who are weary.
So, when in need, set me on the hob
To celebrate a laugh, or to soothe a sob
I can make the perfect cup for every occasion
No matter your constitution or your station
You only need a cup of tea
Brewed to perfection within me.
©Alessandra Arora
