Love of a mother in a typically countrified bucolic candy-shop

When I was a junior school child, my mother would oblige me with a five rupee note whenever I so entreated to let me go and eat milk cream crust in a local tuck shop which I was so fond of eating with sugar. I was the youngest of eight children and dearest of my mom. In our place, which was starkly rural and backward, the ethics of the milkmen was not as high as to abstain from adulterating milk with water and selling milk which was sneakily skimmed and underhandedly fat-starved which in turn was unable to render enough cream crust when decocted.  

Going to the local confectionery shop for eating cream was a feast for me for a long time till I grew up and imbibed more fashionable habits. Till date the experience surpasses all my memories of savoring food in life, any dish, any place, any occasion which I may recall. I have never been able to forget the indelible taste of the thickly crusted cream sparkled with sugar grains and served in a china plate with a steel-made spoon.

In fact, when I reflect back I find no other taste as innate to my taste buds as this. It is not about imagining and relishing a goody of a childhood but about getting imbued with the love of a mother permeating in the five rupee note which invariably got passed on to the milk candy I ate in a typically countrified bucolic candy-shop.  

@Raz Nawadwi: Pages from My Diary

Bhopal, India 09.40 pm 29/11/2014