The Cutlery Crisis

A post by wannabe, one of me favourite bloggers, took my mind to a somewhat similar episode in which the protagonist was my friend and colleague. I’ll call her Keralina in this post.

Keralina was one of a group of teachers selected to attend an all India conference on higher education in Ooty. Now, she was a hardcore non-vegetarian. By hardcore, I mean really really hardcore. She can have a complete vegetarian sadhya (Spread) and still feel incomplete in the absence of meat or fish.

By evening 5 0’clock she and the group (all men) from her little town where she worked, reached the venue of the conference which was a college in Ooty. Dinner was at 7.30, they were told.

After relaxing and freshening up, Keralina came down to the mess hall for dinner. There were separate tables laid out for the veggies and the non vegetarians. She stood for a moment beside a non veg table laid out for six people, surveying it. With great satisfaction she looked at the large oval dish in which big pieces of roasted chicken, garnished with fried onions and nuts, were aesthetically arranged. The dish stood out among the other dishes like a crown prince among lesser mortals, she thought. She was about pull out a chair and take her seat when she suddenly noticed that cutlery was also arranged around each plate.

Now, born and brought up in the heartland of rural Kerala, she had never used them, and was known for her tirade during her lectures against Indians imbibing these colonial habits (like eating with mini weapons) at the cost of sensible and healthier practices in our own land. To make matters worse, on her way to Ooty, she had been reading in the train an article on etiquette and table manners which claimed that awkwardness with cutlery is a dead give away that your breeding and sophistication need serious honing.

She was distressed. She had absolutely no inking as to how to deal with chicken with fork and knife. After all, why should she have gained that skill when God has given her expert fingers which can find its way into the smallest crevice in the boniest piece of chicken?

With a heavy heart, Keralina, poor girl, moved away towards the vegetarian section. Whatever may be her ideological position on this issue, she didn’t want her image to take a bashing, negotiating a piece of roast chicken clumsily with fork and knife. As she took the last seat at a long table laid out to accommodate 16 veggies(there were several non-veg tables with seating arrangements for 6 people at each), her friend who was already there told her that she was at the wrong table.

“The non vegs should go there”, she said pointing to the tables next to this single veg table.
“I am observing noyambu (abstinence) for a week”, she bluffed, feeling miserable.

And she joined them and took her spoon and stated her meal. The conversation revolved around noyambu, and the veggies were lost in admiration of Keralina, her discipline, piety - -

Half way thru the meal, Keralina looked at the non-veg table to see how her friends from her home town were managing with the cutlery. To her utter dismay, she found that the cutlery was untouched! All of them were attacking the large chunks of roasted chicken with their fingers!

Keralina nearly wept.

And almost screamed in sheer frustration when the mess manager came around to confirm the number and list of the vegetarians and non vegetarians. She couldn’t backtrack on her noyambu claim and so got listed in the vegetarian section for the whole duration of the conference!