I feel like I owe you guys this story after my unintended hibernation of the last week. So let me get straight to it!
Saturday morning: AR and I have fab plans to make Palak Paneer for the 1st time ever.
As the lovely Mogambo's lovelier friend from LA, the all American Sarah taught us, we planned to make it from 1st principle - read boil milk, curdle it, put weight on resultant matter in muslin cloth and cut into little cubes.
Post title would suggest that this encounter went horribly wrong, but rest assured, the paneer was unlike ANY I have ever eaten. And no, this isn't my richly textured sarcasm forcing itself out of the straitjacket I've imprisoned it in (another story, for a day when I have no better ones to tell. Today ain't one of them)
The gravy seemed to be taking shape quite nicely as well, and in a moment of sheer genius AR and yours truly concurred that the twist to Palak Paneer that sets it apart from ordinary (said with slightly condescending tone) gravies is that you grind up the mixture in the mixie AFTER it has cooked - you know, for the perfect taste and consistency.
This, if I may be allowed to gently bring to your notice, was the moment that my planetary alignments shifted a wee bit allowing the ever so purposeful Rahu/ Shani Inc. direct access to Ms. Tic's well being. The course of events that followed in the day are testament to their (Rahu/ Shani Inc's) weekend productivity.
As I carefully held down the mixer lid with deliberate pressure, knowing that the mixture inside was scalding hot, and turned the dial to ON, the lid decided to do a little jig of its own, defying gravity and jumping merrily into the air, splashing ALL 5'8" of me AND the kitchen around me with spinach gravy. Boiling, no less. Needless to say, my clothes saved me, esp. the fact that I'd decided to abandon shorts in light of having a male friend over, and was wearing pajamas instead.
My hands weren't half lucky and the nook of the elbows had it esp. bad. Thankfully, what felt like OMFG at the moment, calmed down after repeated applications of a pack of frozen peas and all I have to show now for the incident is a small brown black scar on my left elbow.
Not too shabby, except a glance around my kitchen at the moment made me wish I could dunk ALL of it in Ariel and leave it to clean itself. So AR manned cooking the mixture (most of it escaped unjumped from mixer) and added taste to it, while I cleaned through what can only be described as ingenious methods to get spinach stains off the weirdest nooks and crannies of my kitchen.
After declaring the output of a slightly cursed exercise fit for consumption, we proceed to excitedly lay the table when a nice big plate (ceramic, NOT unbreakable) decides to slip past my sharp watchful eye and lands on the floor with a thundering CRASH.
AR proceeded to clean this one up. Anyone would have, given my spinach infused self was sad enough to inspire sympathy in the stoniest of hearts. And AR has a good heart. Really. (He shares the cookies from his Subway meal with me ALL the time. What else is that if not a kind heart?)
Hopefully this will go down in the history of my insipid life as the most happening accident to happen to me. Hopefully. (Looks up meaningfully at the sky, with semblance of gentle nudge)
We head out for a movie, me and some family friends that I quite enjoy spending time with. To watch Vicky Cristina Barcelona. Seeing as I am a fan of Scarlett Johannsen and of Woody Allen's understated humor, it seemed like a must watch at the time.
When I look back at what followed, SO many IF's come to mind. IF we'd picked the movie hall they suggested, instead of my suggestion. IF I'd only held my restraint and sat quietly when the movie started. IF I'd only closed the door differently. IF is however, what some tacky fiction author rightly deemed - a 2 letter word for futility. *Pause for Dramatic Sigh*
Fine, I'll get on with telling you exactly what happened.
As the movie started (I will refrain from taking name of movie hall), it occurred to my light sensitive eyes that the door to the hall was still open. Given how full of initiative taking I am (boss and other important people at work, you ARE still reading, aren't you?) I marched up to the door to close it myself.
This is one of those air conditioned office type doors that have a speed control mechanism, that 2 part thingamajing that connects the door to the wall at the very top.
So as i proceed to shut the door, I hear a resounding SNAP and before I can figure out what just happened, I notice my tooth rolling onto the floor. A prelim check of my mouth with my hand suggests bleeding where the tooth struck my lower lip before gracefully slipping out onto the floor. One of the uncles I came to the hall with sees the commotion at the door and follows me, thankfully armed with a handkerchief (that later boasted of blood stains only an Ariel can clean) and we proceed to diagnose the problem with help from the theater staff and a first aid kit.
Bleeding stemmed, apparently what i was left with was a broken incisor that endowed upon me a very pirate like look when I smiled my camera smile (WHAT! Everyone has one! Doesn't mean I'm vain!) and cosmetic calamities apart, left the gum raw and open, making it ultra sensitive to even air. Over the next 2 days, of course, I realized food and drink would also set off the pain, and slow down what was seeming like good progress en route to putting on some weight by the time I see mum in October.
They of course, promised to pay for damages. Although, I'm not quite sure how to claim damages of the intangible kind. The fact that even with a temporary filling before we figure out whether this merits a root canal or straight away a crown, it sort of affects how much and what I can eat, and the time I'll have to take off from work to get the dental work done OR my time over weekends, as if that counts for any less.
I guess, all I can say is I'm glad it wasn't someone else, and it wasn't anything worse. The sight of the dangling contraption post the incident made us all realize how much worse it *could* have been. So I'm still saying my thanks that it was a tooth, and not an eye that me or anyone else lost.
Needless to say, the body has been recovering from the mild shock it was subjected to and I've been sleeping more than ever for the past 2 days. Will be back at work tomorrow, hopefully not too affected by the aircon.
Now, if anyone from my family is reading this, you do NOT tell amma this happened. I've requested aunty and uncle to keep this quiet and I'll be damned if I add Mom to the list of worried people.
Also, if I don't pick up the phone for long periods of time, it's cause I'm sleeping to recover from the exhaustion of the incident. Please do not worry (although I do love you extra cause you care enough to :-)) .
Couldn't have asked for a better comeback post no? :D