A Little bit of DIMDIMA and Gulab Jamuns, story on Hopscotch recipe at Donna's Diner. Both at diddilydeedotsdreamland.
By SeligorsCastle THE MYSTERY OF THE MISSING GULAB JAMUNS adapted from the story by Sangeetha Narayan From the DIMDIMA Oct 2008
and said,
"Thank you Didi!* I have never eaten such delicious sweets."
I looked up from my Spider Man comics. at last there was a strange noise in the kitchen. You see, I had set a trap! "Why because for the past couple of days, our house has been in turmoil.
They were gone in seconds, then the little one , looked up and smiled , putting her hands on Nitya's shoulders The delicious looking gulab jamuns that my mother so painstakingly prepared each day, kept disappearing without any clue as to who the culprit was! And since everyone knew of my weakness for anything sweet, I was the obvious suspect. "I'm very disappointed with you Arun!" said my mom. "Not only have you stolen, but you have added lying to your list of crimes. If you haven't said you are sorry, or at least found out where the sweets are going. I'm afraid I shall have to punish you severely. Now I knew I was in trouble, and I had two options, either confess to a crime I hadn't committed or find out who is the real thief was.. I always fancied myself as a detective, so this was my chance to put my detective prowess to the test. Seeking into the kitchen, from whence the noise came. I crept up behind the cupboard where the gulab jamuns had been strategically placed by me earlier. I would catch this culprit red handed. Can you imagine my surprise when I realised that the thief was my young sister! The naughty girl had let everyone believe I was a thief and a liar, how could she do that to me. So I decided to surprise her, and crept up behind her, hoping to catch her eating her first delicious jamuns.
But she wasn't eating anything, in fact she was busy pouring the sweets from our container into another one. But why? A good detective, realising there was more to this story, quietly backed away and then retrieving my camera from the bedroom, I followed Nitya through the door. Then I thought, Nitya hated sweet things, so why would she be taking these? It was becoming a bigger riddle than I thought.
I followed my sister, down the road and through the small park.
Goodness me I suddenly realised she was going to our secret hiding place. But she stopped just before the way into our den and say down on the grass. She looked at her watch and just kept watching, she was definitely waiting for someone, but who could it be.
Suddenly a big smile crossed her face and I immediately held the camera to my eye, to take the photo that would prove my innocence and her guilt. But it was not to be. As I looked at the young girl who came over to Nitya and sat besides her on the grass. I realised that I had seen this little one before. She was a young beggar girl. One whom we often passed on our way home from school. She was always at the corner of the street begging with her baby brother. I let the camera fall down by my side as I realised the treat that my small sister was giving to the little girl. Who quickly ate away the gulab jamuns, leaving no photo and no proof.
But she wasn't eating anything, in fact she was busy pouring the sweets from our container into another one. But why? A good detective, realising there was more to this story, quietly backed away and then retrieving my camera from the bedroom, I followed Nitya through the door. Then I thought, Nitya hated sweet things, so why would she be taking these? It was becoming a bigger riddle than I thought.
I followed my sister, down the road and through the small park.
Goodness me I suddenly realised she was going to our secret hiding place. But she stopped just before the way into our den and say down on the grass. She looked at her watch and just kept watching, she was definitely waiting for someone, but who could it be.
Suddenly a big smile crossed her face and I immediately held the camera to my eye, to take the photo that would prove my innocence and her guilt. But it was not to be. As I looked at the young girl who came over to Nitya and sat besides her on the grass. I realised that I had seen this little one before. She was a young beggar girl. One whom we often passed on our way home from school. She was always at the corner of the street begging with her baby brother. I let the camera fall down by my side as I realised the treat that my small sister was giving to the little girl. Who quickly ate away the gulab jamuns, leaving no photo and no proof.
and said,"Thank you Didi!* I have never eaten such delicious sweets."
I left them chatting. I walked back home, wondering what to do. I decided that the best thing to do was to tell mother everything. I knew she wouldn't be to angry at my sister. And this is what I did. I was very pleased that mom believed me, and Nitya was given a small telling off for not telling mom what she was doing, and also for getting me into trouble, but she also made sure that from that day on, she made a few extra gulab jamuns for the little beggar girl and her brother.
*In India, A"Didi," is like a sister, a true friend.
I also found this little picture about a Didi, and thought it looked really nice.
Three types of tears are generated by the human eye.
Basal tears protect the eye and keep it moist.
Reflex tears flush out the eye when it becomes irritated.
And emotional tears flow in response to sadness, distress, or physical pain.
*In India, A"Didi," is like a sister, a true friend.
I also found this little picture about a Didi, and thought it looked really nice.
Three types of tears are generated by the human eye.
Basal tears protect the eye and keep it moist.
Reflex tears flush out the eye when it becomes irritated.
And emotional tears flow in response to sadness, distress, or physical pain.
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