I yesterday night prepared meal for my Hubby ji, Kari, bhaat. I will not lie, they were horrible. Kari smelled like hell and tasted like turmeric sauce, where the hell gram flour gone, I had seriously no idea. After sipping the harmless (only he knows, if it was harmful too) venom he didn’t stop, rather gulped food and went to bed without uttering a word. I too went asleep feeling guilt inside on irking his hunger. After about an hour I heard sounds coming from the kitchen. Off my bed, I switched towards kitchen to explore what’s going there. I felt pity from inside to see my hubby ji eating bread and namkeen. I expressed him my deep guilt, he calmed me and we went to bed.
You get ashamed of preparing bad food, more ashamed when your loved ones are dissatisfied, doesn’t matter how much efforts you made to make them happy. My mom said me always, “Ability is what gets adored, not you.”
Between all these things, good thing happened. Respect for my Hubby Ji grew into my eyes. All I can say, “The disaster will not be repeated.”