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Chitra Iyer

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A story that's set in the kitchen #yqbaba #shortstory #chitstory #kitchenstory #yostowrimo Two months to go for my tenth exams and dad suffered a severe brain stroke. A surgery was advised and we had to borrow heavily to pay for it. Dad was in coma and bills were mounting. Mom had been working as a part-time cook in five homes. After a month of attending to dad, she told her employers that i would be doubling up for her. Well, only one month for my exams and i had to work in five homes. Cooking wasn't an issue but what about your studies, went my mind. I dismissed the thought. I couldn't afford to think, na? Now, one of the kitchens that I worked in was very messy. The husband was a paan chewing fat potbellied guy and his wife..an innocent villager. I worked almost two hours slogging in a dirty kitchen. That fat uncle would frequently peep in and stare at me. He somehow gave me the creeps what with a beti thrown into every sentence of his whenever he addressed me. One morning I was instructed by him to make gobi parathas. Every fifteen minutes he would keep asking if the dish was ready. 'Memsaab mandir se aayegi, tab tak tayyar rakhna' the gobi lookalike uncle told me. Well, when I was almost done with the parathas, I suddenly smelt alcohol in the air and heavy breathing down my neck. OMG! he was behind me and before I could even turn he had squeezed my breasts and clamped my mouth shut. I appeared tiny but was strong. My knees obeyed my mind's commands and delivered a nasty kick in uncle's groin. My teeth dug itself into his palms and i spat on his face. Writhing in agony, he let go of his hand and I managed to free myself. I ran like a mad woman. Nobody at home. My books looked sad. I hugged them and cried. The incident remained untold for nobody would believe me, right? I sensed mom giving me questioning looks. Had she too suffered this ordeal? Maybe. Heaven knows how many crosses she had to bear. All I know is that I hate my breasts and till date hate gobi parathas. Btw, that kitchen episode happened again. This time I banged the gobar head on the kitchen wall and left him bleeding. Last heard he was in the ICU with a brain stroke. Karma at work? Thankfully, I'm relieved and that's all that matters. Waiting for my exam results with fingers crossed.

A story that's set in the kitchen #yqbaba #shortstory #chitstory #kitchenstory #yostowrimo Two months to go for my tenth exams and dad suffered a severe brain stroke. A surgery was advised and we had to borrow heavily to pay for it. Dad was in coma and bills were mounting. Mom had been working as a part-time cook in five homes. After a month of attending to dad, she told her employers that i would be doubling up for her. Well, only one month for my exams and i had to work in five homes. Cooking wasn't an issue but what about your studies, went my mind. I dismissed the thought. I couldn't afford to think, na? Now, one of the kitchens that I worked in was very messy. The husband was a paan chewing fat potbellied guy and his wife..an innocent villager. I worked almost two hours slogging in a dirty kitchen. That fat uncle would frequently peep in and stare at me. He somehow gave me the creeps what with a beti thrown into every sentence of his whenever he addressed me. One morning I was instructed by him to make gobi parathas. Every fifteen minutes he would keep asking if the dish was ready. 'Memsaab mandir se aayegi, tab tak tayyar rakhna' the gobi lookalike uncle told me. Well, when I was almost done with the parathas, I suddenly smelt alcohol in the air and heavy breathing down my neck. OMG! he was behind me and before I could even turn he had squeezed my breasts and clamped my mouth shut. I appeared tiny but was strong. My knees obeyed my mind's commands and delivered a nasty kick in uncle's groin. My teeth dug itself into his palms and i spat on his face. Writhing in agony, he let go of his hand and I managed to free myself. I ran like a mad woman. Nobody at home. My books looked sad. I hugged them and cried. The incident remained untold for nobody would believe me, right? I sensed mom giving me questioning looks. Had she too suffered this ordeal? Maybe. Heaven knows how many crosses she had to bear. All I know is that I hate my breasts and till date hate gobi parathas. Btw, that kitchen episode happened again. This time I banged the gobar head on the kitchen wall and left him bleeding. Last heard he was in the ICU with a brain stroke. Karma at work? Thankfully, I'm relieved and that's all that matters. Waiting for my exam results with fingers crossed.

Dr Upama Singh

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#My kitchen story# in caption://👇👇 It can never happen that the story of the kitchen is complete without the mother. It's a long time ago when I was 6 or 7 years old. It was evening when I had reached home from school, it was found that Tripathi had gone to Aunty's house in the mother colony itself. I got fresh and immediately went to the kitchen because I was very hungry. As soon as the kitchen was clean, it was understood that nothing is made. Then what was it that day I got a chance to make something, in a hurry, I immediately found the packet of Maggi and kept the kadhai on the stove. To show

#My kitchen story# in caption://👇👇 It can never happen that the story of the kitchen is complete without the mother. It's a long time ago when I was 6 or 7 years old. It was evening when I had reached home from school, it was found that Tripathi had gone to Aunty's house in the mother colony itself. I got fresh and immediately went to the kitchen because I was very hungry. As soon as the kitchen was clean, it was understood that nothing is made. Then what was it that day I got a chance to make something, in a hurry, I immediately found the packet of Maggi and kept the kadhai on the stove. To show