The One About Madam R

I dread Madam R's stay at the temple, not because I particularly abhor her, but because it conjures images of her irresistible calorie-laden dishes. Terrifyingly enough, the senior is currently back in the kitchen, draining the oil bottle, which, if she wasn't around, lasts months on the counter. Due to her serious lack of the ability to detach, her doomed love for her only son and her silent promise to watch her grandchildren; she tolerates living with a devil forced to be reckoned with as my aunt. Her relief from the hell is during school holidays when the devil in disguise is available to watch her own children. Madam R immediately flees the place to be with her daughter a.k.a The High Priestess. Cookies and Cakes would refer to her as The Empress!!! Albeit her archaic mindset across a myriad of issues annoying me, I am quite fond of Madam R, I truly am.


She has;

wonderful tales to tell of growing up in an orphanage, swearing it was the best 14 years of her life;

horrifically amusing tales of her labour (the woman managed to walk a short distance, crossing over a fence standing half a meter tall along the way, to the hospital AFTER her water bag had burst AND nonchalantly relates to the whole event!!!);

and;

confusing tales of how a friend of mine is her husband's, father's, (one of his) brother's, (one of his) son's daughter (I am pretty sure I am wrong about this particular connection).

She is also a conversationalist whose morning routine involves two slices of bread, a cup of decaf and her daily Tamil newspapers; yes, she is literate, very MUCH! However, the one time I really do (remorsefully) wish her departure from the temple is when she puts that culinary skills of hers to use.

There was once I decided to 'inspect' her in action, just in time to stumble upon her generous use of the aforementioned cooking ingredient. From the ground I stood, I shrieked, out loud, the words, "Are you mad??"  and held her hand to a screeching halt. She was just about to pour the blended gravy-mix of tomatoes and onions into at least more than half a cup of leftover oil bubbling away in the wok.


Hdaran: Enna aatha panringeh??? (What the hell are you doing??; the word 'hell' was fittingly added into the translation to express my dismay.)
Madam R: Ennada?? (WHAT??!!)
Hdaran: Ivoloh ennaiyileh sambal seiye poringelah? (Are you making the gravy with this much oil?)
Madam R: Ennada??!! Ivolo ennai podelenah nalla irekkathe!!! (What?!! It won't taste good without this much of oil!!!)
Hdaran: Adekaduvuleh!!! Thaivasenjhi mothe konjum ennaiyeh veliyeh uutheringelah! Ivolo ennai sapta, enna aaverathe???!!!! Appa paathangenah.....kadavuleh!!! (OMG!!! Please discard some oil!!! The things that could happen with this much of oil consumed!!! If dad knows of this.... Good Lord!!!)
Madam R: Sari, neeneh eduthe uuthe. Aperum nalla illena enakke teriyathe!!! (Fine, you do the discarding then. I am not responsible if it doesn't taste good!!!)
Hdaran: Paravaleh, nalla tha irekkum. (It's ok, it'll taste just as good.)


From then on, upon learning of her whereabouts in the kitchen, I have never failed to oversee the process.

Of course her hit tofu dish tasted just as good without the uncalled for additional fat...