Sunday was mutton curry day for us when we were young.
It was a ritual of sorts.
Kamla , the help, would chop onions and grind garlic and ginger in rhytmic motions as she squatted and sweated over the stone pestle and mortar.
The potatoes were peeled and sitting on the sink ledge, some bits of skin still clinging bravely on.
Mother would call out to my father to hurry up.
Father would amble out of the shower, hair neatly combed back, the plastic shopping bag in hand and car keys in the other.
He would walk past the garden and the chicken coop , shouting out gentle instructions to the gardener , before we heard the familiar start up rumble of the Amby.
Around one in the afternoon, the screaming pressure cooker and the accompanying stream of aroma would announce that afternoon lunch would be shortly ready.
That was a ritual that not only we, but most of the families we knew followed.
It was not the mutton that made it special.
It was the family meal.
Unlike other days, father was there at home for lunch.
There was no rush, we could savour every bite and more importantly, conversation.
Mother would be relaxed and happy.
We would be playing.
The radio would be belting out our favourite songs.
That's the difference between consumption and purchase.
The more ritualistic our consumption is, the more special the occasion becomes.
Brands that have capitalised uopn this have had a much stronger bonding with consumers.
Like the mutton curry, these brands remain in our hearts longer.
It was a ritual of sorts.
Kamla , the help, would chop onions and grind garlic and ginger in rhytmic motions as she squatted and sweated over the stone pestle and mortar.
The potatoes were peeled and sitting on the sink ledge, some bits of skin still clinging bravely on.
Mother would call out to my father to hurry up.
Father would amble out of the shower, hair neatly combed back, the plastic shopping bag in hand and car keys in the other.
He would walk past the garden and the chicken coop , shouting out gentle instructions to the gardener , before we heard the familiar start up rumble of the Amby.
Around one in the afternoon, the screaming pressure cooker and the accompanying stream of aroma would announce that afternoon lunch would be shortly ready.
That was a ritual that not only we, but most of the families we knew followed.
It was not the mutton that made it special.
It was the family meal.
Unlike other days, father was there at home for lunch.
There was no rush, we could savour every bite and more importantly, conversation.
Mother would be relaxed and happy.
We would be playing.
The radio would be belting out our favourite songs.
That's the difference between consumption and purchase.
The more ritualistic our consumption is, the more special the occasion becomes.
Brands that have capitalised uopn this have had a much stronger bonding with consumers.
Like the mutton curry, these brands remain in our hearts longer.
Hi,
ReplyDeletewas doing some research on JWT as i plan to join in Gurgaon office when I stumbled upon your blog.
I read most of the posts on your blog and i love the values and teachings from each post. I might not have the same experience like you did in your childhood but can realise the value of joy I got from having little and it helps to have a better outlook towards life.
I too grew up in small town where i learned from my mother to save on everything and reuse it. soon i was sent to hostel in mussoorie for better education by my father as we did not have very good english schools where i lived then.
Since then i'm mostly away from home, having complted my grad, post-grad, another course, all away from home having little time to take off to be with folks. they sacrificed by keeping me away that made me a man i'm today. like most of us I too long for the "Sunday Mutton Curry" with family.
but now am happy as i decide to return home to my parents who are now living in gurgaon and work there staying close to them.
i believe everyone has a choice, be it career or anything, there comes a time when you need to sacrifice a little to keep others happy, and you know that would make you happy in return.