My favorite sweet dish has always been Rasgulla, and always will be. As a four year old child growing up in Calcutta, I was exposed to it quite early and I have been in love with it since. I could still eat it everyday and no matter where I have had it from, the ones that come from Calcutta are the best. The taste still lingers in mouth.
Since we had plenty in Calcutta, we always had some at home. There was hardly a time when we did not have Rasgulla. The problem with keeping that at home was that I would eat more than I should and always finish a pot full in a day. My parents decided that the best thing to do would be to hide it from me, somewhere high above, deep inside those unreachable kitchen shelves. After one point of time, I was given the impression that we did not buy Rasgulla anymore, and I had no idea that they were being hidden from me. Strangely, every day I was in school I would open my lunch box to find one Rasgulla. I was happy, yet curious to how it appeared magically in my box, considering that we never had any at home. One day I decided to confront my dad.
I asked him how those Rasgullas magically found their way into my lunch box even though we had none at home. Of course, my dad was not going to give his game up. He said, "Ah, that's magic. We do not have any at home, but I can do magic and make it appear in your lunch box everyday". Ah well, what the heck. I bought that story and I did not complain as long as they appeared in my lunch box every day. I went to school everyday believing that my father was a magician, who could make Rasgullas appear out of nowhere. How wonderful. What more could I ask for. I believe I have tried asking my father over and over again about the source of the Rasgulla, but the only answer I got was, "Ah, that's magic".
Sometimes it's amazing how kids learn and how they can leave their parents at a loss for words with the innocent things they do and say. Sometimes you just got to give in to the kids. My father probably thought that the magic story was a good one and might also shut me up from probing the origin of the Rasgulla. It was to meet it's demise soon.
Over few days my parents noticed that each day when I came back from school I had something small that did not belong to me. One day it was a pencil, the next day it was an eraser, a crayon and so on. Honestly, I don't remember, but I am assuming that I must have taken them from some of the students. One day however when my parents were cleaning or taking stuff out of my bag, they noticed a lot of stuff that clearly did not belong to me. There were many pencils, sharpeners, erasers, crayons, scales etc etc. Now they were concerned that their dear son must be stealing from others. I remember my dad calling me and showing me my stolen goods and asking me where I got all this from. I swear I did not think twice, but my natural response was, "Ah, that's magic".
The Rasgullas were back in the refrigerator the same day.
Since we had plenty in Calcutta, we always had some at home. There was hardly a time when we did not have Rasgulla. The problem with keeping that at home was that I would eat more than I should and always finish a pot full in a day. My parents decided that the best thing to do would be to hide it from me, somewhere high above, deep inside those unreachable kitchen shelves. After one point of time, I was given the impression that we did not buy Rasgulla anymore, and I had no idea that they were being hidden from me. Strangely, every day I was in school I would open my lunch box to find one Rasgulla. I was happy, yet curious to how it appeared magically in my box, considering that we never had any at home. One day I decided to confront my dad.
I asked him how those Rasgullas magically found their way into my lunch box even though we had none at home. Of course, my dad was not going to give his game up. He said, "Ah, that's magic. We do not have any at home, but I can do magic and make it appear in your lunch box everyday". Ah well, what the heck. I bought that story and I did not complain as long as they appeared in my lunch box every day. I went to school everyday believing that my father was a magician, who could make Rasgullas appear out of nowhere. How wonderful. What more could I ask for. I believe I have tried asking my father over and over again about the source of the Rasgulla, but the only answer I got was, "Ah, that's magic".
Sometimes it's amazing how kids learn and how they can leave their parents at a loss for words with the innocent things they do and say. Sometimes you just got to give in to the kids. My father probably thought that the magic story was a good one and might also shut me up from probing the origin of the Rasgulla. It was to meet it's demise soon.
Over few days my parents noticed that each day when I came back from school I had something small that did not belong to me. One day it was a pencil, the next day it was an eraser, a crayon and so on. Honestly, I don't remember, but I am assuming that I must have taken them from some of the students. One day however when my parents were cleaning or taking stuff out of my bag, they noticed a lot of stuff that clearly did not belong to me. There were many pencils, sharpeners, erasers, crayons, scales etc etc. Now they were concerned that their dear son must be stealing from others. I remember my dad calling me and showing me my stolen goods and asking me where I got all this from. I swear I did not think twice, but my natural response was, "Ah, that's magic".
The Rasgullas were back in the refrigerator the same day.
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