Asha blew air in exasperation. "Okay, Chef Ronjon Munshi."
"Why is the chef title being inserted in this conversation?" Ronjon asked as one of his brows raised.
In the illustrious culinary city of Paak, male chefs garnered popularity and received recognition compared to females. They said women were mainly to serve and feed their husbands and children, while men basked in glory as skilled chefs.Men filled the kitchens in the renowned restaurant, while women waited in their households for their men to come home with their pay.
Asha couldn't forget the last letter her father left her before they hung him. This was the letter,Asha,
Asha arrived at a diner at the corner of a busy street where small, close-packed office buildings were situated. She walked in a small kitchen and stepped sideways, passing her busy co-workers in their workstations."Asha, why are you late today? This is not you," Charbi, the head chef, said. He is a tall man of six feet in his thirties. He glanced at Asha while kneadi
After cooking her last dish, Asha darted to school. She would graduate this school year from her second higher education. She could have graduated a year ago, but her situation was dire after her father's death.She could hardly understand the teacher's words because her mind was full of the things she would do for the competition tomorrow. After class, she ran home, a
Asha cooked the last batch of Chicken Torkari. She began the batch of her Baba's special Bapa Pitha. This sweet rice cake was a traditional delicacy cooked in winter. However, her father's recipe was special compared to the common one and was a hit in their restaurant.The common recipe was ground rice combined with shredded coconut and steamed with molasses fillings.
Charbi faced Ronjon and clapped his palms together. "Nomoshkar. Hi, Sir. I'm Charbi, the head cook here. What can I do for you?"Ronjon did the same action, "Nomoshkar," and extended his hand. "I only have a few questions to ask, so please sit with me for a while."
It was the cooking festival week. Every year, the surrounding villages of Paak City would hold such an occasion to uphold its reputed standing as a Culinary City.Here, every corner in every street had stalls and small diners in makeshift tents to serve the visitors and the local's palates experience of the city's unique spicy dishes.
Asha continued her work without care. She let the oyster’s stock boil and added the fish, other spices, except the coconut milk and the clam meat. "Hey, how much time did they give us?" She asked a participant in front of her. The boy ignored her."What the ... still giving me a cold shoulder?" She couldn't believe this was how the males treated the female cont
Asha blew air in exasperation. "Okay, Chef Ronjon Munshi.""Why is the chef title being inserted in this conversation?" Ronjon asked as one of his brows raised.
Both Asha and Ronjon went back in later. An hour more and the doctor came out from the operating room. All of them stood right away, aside from Asha, who slept, exhausted from crying."Who are the relatives of Shaheb Arup Mukherjee?"
Noontime came. The scenery was mesmerizing, but Rimas mind was not on it because the scorching heat of the sun was like burning coals roasting them alive. He tried lessening the soreness of the sunburns by covering his head with his shawl but held the cloth in his firm grasp, keeping the strong wind from blowing it away. Suddenly, someone yelled at his back. Everyone looked to where the shout came from and saw a woman pointing at a man who fell from the train. All the passengers on top of the roof were frightened to death. They might be next if they would not be careful.
Unknown to them, Rimas silently sat at a corner at the airport in the capital city. He tried to buy a ticket to flee the country but as Ronjon and Harry had predicted, all flights were sold out a long time ago and no more tickets were provided for the following months. Every family decided to find the best place suited for them to live. Somehow, the British Raj had not yet submitted any clear boundaries of the two countries, and there were only four months left before the set independence day.
Tarapati went back in and wakened Ninu and Arup."Ninu Bhai, your daughter is here. You better get up or something ugly will happen," Tarapati said while shaking Ninu.
Tarapati came out smiling to greet Asha, who stood in between Ronjon and Harry, but halted his steps when he saw the police cars escorting behind. He looked back at the two men sleeping in the living room, Arup and Ninu, and thought of waking them to clear up the situation to the unfriendly visitors.That night, when Ninu, Tarapati, and the rest arrived in the mansion,
Instead of being happy, Tarapati's mind boiled in rage against Ninu."Who are you playing with? Me? How dare you impersonate my late good friend?" Tarapati hollered right up to his lungs as he clenched his fist to strike Ninu on the face, but the latter calmly moved his head and shifted his hair to show Tarapati his hairy mole behind his left ear. Tarapati's hand tempo
While Tarapati was at it, he asked Ninu to allow him to talk with Sovhona alone. However, Sovhona was not at ease with the idea. She insisted on Ninu to stay with them. Hence, Tarapati had no choice but to ask Ninu for an oath of secrecy because he perceived him to be an outsider. He absolutely did not recognize this Ayoush's real identity even though they were close before.
Tarapati went to visit and talked with each of Rimas wives, aside from Sovhona, who he had no inkling of her where to find. The wives were in outrage after learning Rimas sold the house and their properties in secret. They couldn't even accept that he had the nerve to keep all the money to himself. With the fact that most of his acquired lands and business establishments were from their dowries, most of them wailed in agony and a few wished to sue him but with no power and money to do so.