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Grandma's mug
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Well the next day, she dropped off tiny packets of spices to Eric's mother who was dying to make an Indian food dish. The Smithsons were sweet and accepting of the mixed couple. Tina knew her own parents would be near-suicidal at the mention of her plans to wed an American.
Eric proposed to her. She accepted. Her parents... said they would never accept the arrangement, but eventually they were forced to accept. Life was good. They coexisted peacefully. The two would wake up together at dawn to take a jog, shower, and eat breakfast together. After this, they split ways and went to their respective workplaces. Whoever got home first, usually Tina, was in charge of starting dinner. Somewhere in this schedule, her two glasses of tea from the mug were plopped in. It was her Grandmother's beautiful mug. Drinking tea was her therapy... after her grandmother died, Tina drank her tea exclusively from the mug that came to her from India in the mail one day. Like in the past, it was her closest link to her ethnic heritage... probably her only... it was the one thing in her new life that was Indian... it stood out among the other glasses and dishes in their pantry.
And now the mug is broken. Her great- grandfather had died because of it, her grandmother treasured it, and so had Tina twice a day with her tea. It had the uncanny ability to take her back to India; to make her feel proud to be Indian... and here it is on her kitchen floor, cracked in three massive chunks.
"No... No Eric.. It's not just a mug... You can never replace that mug!"
"Oh is that Indian crockery, we'll go to like Bombay Company or something and get you that very same mug,,, look, it was old and chipped anyways."
She glares at him ferociously, yells, "Eat your damn mashed potatoes and meatloaf," and storms out of the apartment, driving out from the lot.... To an uncertain destination... leaving behind a very perplexed Eric who mutters "mashed potatoes whaat" ...
Tina finds herself at her parent's house, an hour and a half away. The smell of frying fish and onions is oddly comforting to her. The pungency of the mustard oil seems soothing this time. The sound of her parent's strong accent is like music to her ears. Tina had tried to run away from her heritage with Eric, but it didn't work. After a hearty and heavy Indian meal, she talks with her parents about her grandmother's death. She had not returned to the house, even after the news reached her. As far as Tina was concerned, the mug came to her in the mail. She swallowed a lump of guilt as she thought of the phone call she received from her parents announcing Dadi's death... she was too busy in bed with Eric to really care about the breaking news. When he asked what they said, she told him it was nothing. She couldn't blame Eric for having lack of interest in her culture, when she shunned her identity away on her own.
She spends the night in her old room, eyeing her pictures and paintings that she made when she was in grade school and up. She is shocked to see that her last painting was done in her sophomore year of high school... that was ages ago, she thinks. She is even more shocked to remember that she had been the artistic one throughout school. Why hadn't she cultivated her talent further? Of course... the cheer leading squad junior year and the sorority in College took up all my time and attention.
The next day, Tina drives back home with stacks of Tupperware full of curries, lentils, and a sack of rice. She wants to talk to Eric... or somebody... and tell him about her grandmother, the story of her mug, about partition, about the skin color prejudice, about curries, about having servants and houses with extended family and flat roofs.... She loves him and loves life with him.. but she wants to tell him how it could be better if he's willing to integrate her culture into their lifestyle. If he can't comply, he will have to understand that she needs to be in relationship that will support and embrace her beautiful culture... that dramatic American born Indians do not fully represent her culture like she had previously thought. Their relationship had not come to this turning point because he was white and she was brown; it had come here because she had underestimated the importance of her own culture in her life.
She returns to Eric's apartment to see a newspaper on the floor on which a mug is drying, pieced together with the empty tube of crazy glue that lies on the paper. Eric is sprinkling powders into a pot and the air smells like India.
"Today I'm cooking Chicken Saag, spinach and chicken." He says, pronouncing it like sag.. as in boobs that sag... "excuse the fact that I only put a bit of chilli powder in it...I've yet to master the art of eating chillis without turning red and watery... I'm white you know."
The mug was pieced together. Months later, though it is no longer usable to drink from since its fall, it sits on the shelf almost as if it is a decoration piece. The apartment shared by Tina and Eric is now reflective of their cultural compromise. It is no longer just white and simple. The walls are light orange with red window sills and door frames. Tina painted them after she took up painting again... her speciality is painting on bone china.. cups, plates, bowls, all in a fusioned sort of ethnic design unique to her own style.
She drinks tea twice a day from her favourite painted teacup. Pictures of Amy, Brian, their friends, Eric, and Tina are strewn up as usual... along with pictures of both of their parents and a nice portrait of Tina's grandmother with a garland of flowers encircling it. His shot glass collection is put up along with her numerous deities and statues. Mama's meatloaf, tomato- Chicken karahi, mashed potatoes, meat kabobs of all sorts, broccoli and cheese, lentil soup, and baked rosemary chicken are dishes that frequent their dinner table.
Variety is the spice of life. Eric's fish, Herman II and Hermit reside happily in a tank with matching flame coloured gravel. The tacky beanbag has been disposed of. Their pre-marriage visit to Calcutta turns out great. Eric read travel books on India and Calcutta. It is funny to hear him attempt to converse in Bengali or Hindi with Tina's relatives...she teaches him a few words a week. His accent is hilarious, but it is amazing to Tina that he tries. Eric finds that a little bit of spice is just what he needed in his life anyways.
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Mehreen Mansur
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