“Mina Di, do you know how to cook Dhokar Dalna?”, I had asked our newly appointed cook, apprehensively. The spring started to end and with that the winter vegetables started to diminish faster in our local market. We had to plan our meals according to our summer staples – Dhokar Dalna and Chhanar Dalna (lentil cake gravy and cottage cheese ball gravy respectively). Prior to Mina Di, we had Rupa Di with us who helped us for only a couple of months. That also during thick winter when winter vegetables partied in our tropical kitchen.

Mina Di looked at me gravely. She said, “Why not? But you have to teach me, will you?” I happily replied in affirmative, “Sikhiye debo”, I said. The very next day, I made the lentil batter with Motor Daal (Yellow Split Peas) and Chholar Daal (Bengal Gram), seasoned it with some salt and waited for her. As soon as she came, she hurried to wash the rice, started chopping vegetables and set some Masoor Daal (Lentils) to boil. Looking at the batter she remarked, “Dhoka?” ‘Yes!” I said, taking out a kadhai from the utensils rack. That day, I stood teaching her Dhoka, occaisionally asking Maa for her expert opinions just to confirm if I was on right track. She emptied the gravy in a pot from the Kadhai and while washing it assured me that from the next time she can cook it herself.

This year’s excessively hot summers of late April and May had hit us Kolkatans badly. There were days of heat wave. But we never saw Mina Di failing to arrive on time. She would come up the stairs, panting, gulping down some water would ask me, “Aaj ki ki ranna hobe, Boumoni? (What shall I cook for lunch and dinner today?)” She suffered from hypertension and diabetes. When we came to know that, we kept urging her to consult a doctor but she would postpone it every time we mentioned saying that she had her regular medicines.

Since the last week of May, we noticed a marked drop in the quality of the cooked food by her. Sometimes the salt was on the higher side, sometimes it appeared that she might have forgotten to add salt at all. At times, she would overcook the veggies or add much more spice pastes than required. I admit that we had a lot of conditions of cooking – less oil, less spice, salt and sugar in proportions, shallow fries etc etc. But Mina Di never complained about the conditions. She would admit her mistakes and try to better the dishes next times again and again. Since the last of May she would occasionally complain about dizziness. We would suggest her to take some days leave and go to doctor to which she said, “Jabo, jabo” (I will go).

In the middle of June, one Saturday, we decided to have Falaar (Soaked flattened rice and Mangoes) for our Sunday lunch. We thought that might give Mina Di some break from cooking the elaborate Sunday lunch for us. I had soaked the Daals for Dhoka instead to ask Mina Di to cook Dhoka for us. While soaking, I even smiled thinking what she said , that she can cook Dhoka herself next time. The clock ticked 9:30 AM but she didn’t arrive. A phone call came instead. Mina Di’s youngest daughter was on the other side. She said that Mina Di had been admitted to a hospital as she fell down because of dizziness. The doctor suspected heat stroke. We never saw Mina Di again. After two days, I called her daughter to ask about her health. I could hear her sniffling. She tried hard to control herself as she said, “Ei to Maa ke daaho kore elam (We just returned after cremating her)”.

I can’t explain what I felt then. I returned to our kitchen and saw that every utensil which she used was in their places – the chopper (bonti), the grinding stones (Sheel Nora), the usual pots and pans she preferred using while cooking for us and the yellow plastic bowl in which she kept the spice pastes after grinding them. They remained but she won’t return, climb up the stairs, pant and ask,”Aaj ki ki ranna hobe Boumoni?”