Sanjib Babu couldn’t even imagine spending a day without having fish in his meals. Today, on his first death anniversary, Benu, his eldest grandson, decided to keep ten types of fish preparations in the menu for the guests. The chief cook brought a new cook as his assistant. Benu couldn’t see his face; he only noticed the attire of the new cook, but didn’t pay much attention to him.

At the hour of dusk, when the guests left and the event finished, Benu found some quiet hour and wanted to sit alone beside the pond of their house. The cool breeze made him forget the stress of the day. He went closer to the pond, but something grabbed his attention, and he stopped. He saw that the new cook was sitting beside the pond with a big basket.

Benu silently approached him and saw that the new cook was eating the pieces of Hilsa fry from the basket. Benu could smell the fried Hilsa pieces standing there. Another thing that he could identify was the cook’s identity, as his sitting posture and eating style seemed very familiar.

Benu recalled the man eating Hilsa fry was the same man whom Benu saw in their family album, who was standing with little Benu on his lap, whose fondness of Hilsa fry was well-known in the village, who was a big critic of food even in his early nineties, and who was popular in the village for his cooking style of fish preparations – Sanjib Babu, Benu’s grandfather came to supervise the event’s catering and watch the cook preparing the fish curries properly. Maybe he came there to see his family members for the last time, or perhaps, to eat his favorite Hilsa fry for one last time.

(This post is part of the #BlogchatterFoodFest)