This is a True Story about Boiled Eggs my Grandma used to give me daily. My Grandma was about 75 years old in 1975. She is said to have been born in the year 1900. I was a small kid at that time. Those were the days of fun. The whole day I would be out of my own home and playing with my friends.
The neighborhood houses were all of our own relatives. So after brushing my teeth, I would be off to play. My breakfast would be from one relative, lunch would be in another house of another relative. But my grandma would come searching for me by 6 pm to bathe me and do dinner was in our own home.
We had cows, goats, hen and ducks at home which my grandma used to look after. I was friends with each animal at home. The cows and goats liked me massaging their head, neck and body. The hens and ducks loved to eat grains right from my hands. I had named all these animals and they used to respond when I used to call their name. Everyone at home started calling each cow, goat, ducks and hens by their name, following me.
This true story is about my grandma's love for me. She would wake me up sharp at 7:00 am. I never wanted to wake up. But, she would lure me with some eatables and lure me out of the bed. But she would not let me even drink a glass of water before I brushed my teeth.
After brushing my teeth, was the tough part of life. My grandma would first give me one huge brass tumbler full of raw goat milk. She said it the most healthy breakfast for me. I would show all sorts of tantrums because I did not even like the smell of goat milk. But my grandma would ensure that I drink the full glass of milk in front of her eyes by holding me by my hand, to prevent me from running away to some neighborhood relative's house and have something unhealthy for breakfast.
After the milk torture is over, my grandma had one boiled egg which also I had to eat. I hated the smell of boiled eggs too. My arm would go reddish where my grandma's strong hands had held me for over 10 minutes making drink the milk and eat the boiled eggs. My grandma will release my arm only after I drink the milk and eat eggs. After some days I realized it was better to finish the milk and egg than be a prisoner for 10 minutes.
A few days later, I came up with a trick. Outside the kitchen where my grandma would hold me and make me had the raw milk and boiled egg, there was our cow shed and next to it was the open cow dung pit which smelled horrible. I decided to put my plan into action.
I told my grandma that I will be a good boy. I told her that I have started liking the raw goat milk and boiled egg and I will have them without making any more fuss. My grandma didn't believe me. She still stood there till I finished having milk and egg for two or three days. I showed no tantrums, and I behaved as I loved the milk and egg. I won. She started having faith in me and stopped standing there and watching me have the milk and egg. And that is what I wanted.
My small brain was hatching a trick how not to eat the boiled egg and raw goat milk. When I was sure that grandma was busy with work after giving me the tumbler of milk in one hand and the shelled egg in the other, I acted as if I was enjoying drinking the raw milk by just touching it on my lips, so that the froth on the milk formed a moustache on my upper lips.
Then I would walk out of the kitchen towards the cow dung pit. I would stand there continuing to act as if I was enjoying my milk. When I saw no one was watching I would throw the egg in to the cow dung pit with all my force. The egg would fall into the pit hard. Being a boiled egg, it took some time to vanish slowly under the fresh cow dung.
Then I would slowly walk acting like I am chewing the egg, go near the drain, make sure no one is watching me, and throw the raw goat milk in one go into the open drain. Then I would pour few mugs of water in to the drain to ensure that no one finds out the milk flowing in the drain.
Once the trick was complete, I would go back and place the empty milk tumbler on the table making some noise. My grandma would come and inspect the tumbler and smiles at me. I smile back at her with the thrill of victory. And off I run to play with my friends. Throwing the egg into the cow dung pit, and raw milk into the open drain, became my daily routine. I was very thrilled at my intelligence and I was very sure no one will ever find out.
One month passed. One day, when my grandma gave me the milk and egg, as usual I walked out of the kitchen towards the cow dung pit. I stopped on my tracks. Some workers had come to empty the cow dung from the pit and take it to the paddy fields as manure.
My heart sank. I stood there watching. The men went down into the cow dung pit and started removing the cow dung. And they started discovering the eggs I had thrown into the cow dung for the past almost one month. The workers were laughing as they placed the eggs one after the other on the boundary wall of the cow dung pit.
In a matter of 10 minutes dozens of eggs that I had thrown into the cow dung pit, came out one after the other in various stages of decomposition. And that is when I saw grandma come out of kitchen. I still had the milk tumbler and the boiled egg that my grandma gave me 10 minutes ago in my hand.
It was my Grandma's turn to stop in her tracks at the sight of some 30 eggs placed on top of the cow dung pit wall. Grandma looked at me. I did not see any emotion in her eyes. She did not scold me either. She did not say even a word. How I wished she scolded me.
Grandma came towards me. I got scared a little. But I felt like crying and tell her to pardon me. But, I did nothing. I just stood there with the milk tumbler and egg in my hands. Grandma stopped and looked at me for a while. Probably she was thinking what to do.
Then she took the milk tumbler and the boiled egg from my hands, and walked back into the kitchen and placed it on the dining table. From the next day onwards, grandma started asking me what I wanted in breakfast. Almost everyday my answer was, I am not hungry.
From that day, I was free to run off to play with friends immediately after I brushed my teeth. But my Grandma continued to place the same tumbler full of raw goat milk and one boiled egg every morning on the dining table for me, even though she knew I won't even touch it. She continued this habit till she she died a few months later.