Samosaphobia, Pakodalogy

Mom in law (On a fine morning): How about today we make samosas? That tiffin box from your uncle's has to be sent back.

Me: .... (Scared!!)

My samosaphobia is only 20 days older than Coco. The morning I made samosas for the first time in my life, I got admitted in the hospital at 32 weeks of pregnancy and came out exactly a month later with baby and all!

After that fateful morning, mere mention of a samosa is enough to take the wind out of me, a hard core lover of the triangular savouries.

As long as we are on this subject, I must mention an amusing pakoda ritual I heard about. When I was carrying Coco, two other ladies in the family were expecting as well. There is usually a curiosity to find out the gender of the unborn child, and when you have three children coming, it just adds to the curiosity an angle of betting. Coco's great-granny who is a walking encyclopedia of child-raising and such matters rustled up a pakoda batter and fried some fritters. On the basis of their shapes she declared all three of us were going to give birth to boys.

 

My April Fool special cotton pakodas!

The first two were girls. Great-granny was upset, her pakodalogy had failed her miserably. On the basis of these two cases, she rubbished her own announcement about the third child. After Coco was born, she somewhat regained her confidence in the science of pakodas. After all her science gives one-third correct results, statistically proven!