An Unintended Deliverance
“Ammi!” Naseem cried holding his cheek. He had been playing in the verandah when he felt the sharp pain, proof that his tooth was on the last leg of its journey. Ammi failed to answer. He scrambled into the house, peeping into the living room, which was deserted, and then checked the kitchen. The humming along with the beedi smell that wafted into his nostrils, was proof enough that the khansama was the undisputed king of his culinary kingdom.
“Chacha, have you seen Ammi?” He inquired in a small voice.
“Ji, barkhurdaar,” Chacha replied, almost choking with beedi smoke. “She is near the back entrance with a chicken vendor.
Naseem was flabbergasted. Buying chicken was not something his mother involved herself with. Chacha was the one responsible for buying, cleaning, and cooking meat, in all forms. He hurried to the back entrance to witness the monumental event for himself, pain forgotten.
He found Ammi arguing with a man swathed in clothes matted with dirt. A turban, once white but now unrecognizable, covered his head.
“Memsahab, thirty rupees for three egg-laying birds? It is highway robbery!!”
Naseem saw a wicker basket at his feet, from which desperate clucking could be heard above their argument. Ammi looked at Naseem’s face and knew the negotiation was over.
“Achcha, I will give you fifty. Do you guarantee the hens will be good layers?”
The reply must have been satisfactory enough because the vendor departed with his fifty rupees leaving Ammi in possession of three large and plump chickens.
“Ammi, my tooth is aching.” Naseem whimpered, deciding enough time had been devoted to the avian species.
“Naseem, you are such a chicken. With every tooth, it has been the same story. It is loose enough to fall with a hard chew but you won’t let me pull it out. And then you will go around crying at the pain. You know what you have to do. Now help me carry these birds inside.”
Ammi sauntered off with two birds hanging upside down from her fingers, clucking piteously. Naseem decided to inspect the one in his hand.
“You are a beautiful bird,” he murmured as he brought the black minorca up to his face. The hen looked at him placidly, not at all afraid. Her scarlet comb and wattles lent her a regal air. Her gullet rose and fell with each open-mouthed breath. Naseem had a wild idea to imitate the desperate breathing and give a good scare to Ammi later.
He opened his mouth. His tongue hit the errant tooth, which swung wildly. The minorca eyed the squiggly thing inside the boy’s mouth with definite interest. Then as quick as a flash she lunged. With one clean sweep, and a huge gulp, the tooth became chicken fodder and Naseem was left pain free.
“Ammi,” he screamed. “The bird ate my tooth.”
“Good for her. She hasn't laid but she has delivered,” Ammi called and continued unperturbed.
Glossary:
Ammi: Mother
Khansama: cook
Beedi: local rolled tobacco leaf
Barkhudaar: term of endearment for young boys
Chacha: Uncle
Memsahab: Mistress
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