TEENAGE TEENACHE

To take a break from my travelogues, I want to share an article I wrote sixteen years back for a women’s magazine for their teenage special issue. My elder daughter had entered her teens that year only. This is the time when most teenagers are trying to come to terms with the various Bio-physiological and Psychological changes going on inside them and reaction to these sudden changes is manifested by resisting to their external environment. The most common reaction is their social behaviour, like, not taking advice from elders kindly and the tendency to do the opposite against their advice in a hurry to be called grownups, independent and worldlywise. Surrounded by teenagers, my daughter and her peer group, who all behaved in a similar manner, I found it proper, then, to put down on paper what I observed about them.

My story----Teenage Teenache

Summer vacations had started. I had to face the same old question from my teenage daughter that she had been asking for the past two years.

``Why don’t you let me make something in your kitchen, mom? All my friends know atleast two to three basic dishes to make. How come their mothers allow them to cook?”

Their mothers must be brave enough to have allowed them to enter the kitchen, I thought to myself.

``Okay, you will be allowed to do some cooking this vacation if you first learn to arrange washed dishes on the kitchen rack without dropping any.” I knew this was not an easy feat for her to perform with her head always moving to the music of A.R.Rehman and her feet tapping to the tune of MTV. Contrary to my expectations, the challenge was accepted. The sound of the falling vessels lessened by the day and on the eighth day she dropped only a spoon. At that stage she requested (read forced) me to allow her to cook on that day itself as according to her, dropping of one small ,unbreakable, steel spoon was an ignorable mistake. Moreover, a friend of hers was coming over to spend a day. As I felt she was looking forward to some support from her, I had to submit.

Finally the auspicious moment arrived. The girls (including her younger sibling) started to discuss the menu for the meal. I overheard her friend cleverly suggesting to make `Pav-bhaji’. The idea to decide on pav-bhaji was to choose something which sounded like a two dish meal but actually involved cooking the bhaji only.

``Cool”, I thought.

The mission started.

On overhearing some argument I went in to check whether they needed any help.

``So, what is going on young ladies?” I enquired.

``Photosynthesis”, pat came the reply.

``Photo...... what!” I was shocked. Slowly it dawned on me that what they meant was food-making, and the term was picked from the plant world.

I left the kitchen in desperation but kept myself in hearing distance as I thought it would be interesting to listen to some teenage lingoand to know what they were up to.

Next, it was time to put spices, I could hear. When they opened the masala-box, there was a short pause as they studied its contents, cluelessly.``Forget about their names yaar”, said her friend.

``Let’s start with the red powder. Don’t you know all curries look reddish in colour?”

``Oh yeah”, agreed my daughter, appreciatingly.

``Now step-by-step (really?) let us add all other powders too. Here we go ! One measure spoon of green masala, one of yellow and one of black.”

``Don’t you think it is darkish?” asked one.

``You are right, what do we do now?” wondered the other one.

In the meantime, my younger daughter, aged eight, who had joined them out of curiosity, came forward with a suggestion. (She had recently joined a painting class).

``My drawing teacher says, if you want to lighten some colour, add white,” she parted with the information.

``Lo and behold! There is a white masala in the box,” screamed her friend with joy and put one measure spoon of salt in the curry.

Impressed by the application of one’s textbook knowledge in situations like these by her younger sister, the older one was inspired and corrected her friend instantly, ``Hey, come on, this white powder is the chemical sodium-chloride which we use in the school lab,” Now it was her friend’s turn to be impressed!

Bhaji was almost ready. (So they thought!) They asked the younger one to have a look for expert comments.

``Humm’’ she said feeling important “Don’t you think it is too watery?” she opined.
``Yes we know that,” said both the seniors admittedly hiding their irritation. ``We know that the last step of any cooking is still left and that is evaporation,”

``Food is ready”, came the announcement in chorus, loud and clear. ``And Mamma is going to have it first. (``Oh my God”, I panicked.)

``It is alright, dear ones. Since you have put in so much of effort, I won’t mind if you make a first move. I will join you shortly,” I said politely. ``It smells and looks tempting” I added not to hurt them.

So all three of them tasted one spoonful each from the dish and my elder daughter exclaimed in horror, ``Oh mom, why can’t I make things the way you do? How are you so perfect in everything?”

``Never mind”, I sympathised. ``It is a matter of approach”.

``When your approach or attitude towards a task is right, everything gets right.’

A matter of approach...attitude”? What do you mean?”

``Errrr.... I mean a matter of principle” I added cautiously.

``What? A matter of principle?”

``Look girls, I, as a teenager, always tried to do things the way my mother did. And you modern day teenagers always try not to copy (by principle) what your old fashioned mothers do. Generation...g.ap...ya...know!”

``Anyway don’t get disheartened, there is always a second chance.” I tried to console them and reduce their guilt at the fiasco.

``Disheartened? What do you mean?” She retorted.

``Take it easy my child. What I meant was, you know,” I added hesitatingly, ``at your age, I could cook for the whole family without any outside help.”

Her friend glared at me.

``What is the big deal mom? At your present age also you are doing the same. But when I will be thirty, I will be well placed in a company and earning well for a family.” She argued.

``Agreed, but cooking is still......”

``Leave that for the men folk. Mom,” she cut me short.

``What? Come again?” I was amused at the idea.

``It is women’s liberation, you see!” quipped the junior.