Kadak...kadak

The hunt continues…

After experimenting with so many maids, we thought we should try out male cooks. We had observed, during our college days, men from Nepal made great cooks. They made titillating dishes as we watched drooling, the affluent gobble up such delicacies. We could neither afford to cook such wonderful meals (students of residential colleges suffer this fate) nor able to try out those yummy food. So, when it came to employing a male cook, we thought that would be a good idea. We were imagining a Nepali cook make hot, soft rotis and mouth-watering side dishes.

It was quite a bit of hunt to get a Nepali cook, I must admit. My better-half went to the extent of checking with watchmen who look like Nepalis to find out if they had their clan looking out for jobs as cooks. Luck (or was it really?!) struck us finally! We got a Nepali cook home and I was truly glad that we zeroed in on one.

He looked a typical Nepali, quite tall and fair-skinned. The initial conversations were pleasant. Anyway, what could be unpleasant about asking him his name and family details! He could speak some broken Hindi. We also tried asking in our disfigured Hindi as many details as possible. We made out that his family was in his hometown (now, don’t ask what/where that was…we could not understand). He had one wife (surprisingly) and 3 children! Boys were in big classes and the girl was small. He wants to earn for them. We had moist eyes on hearing how he managed to stay in a strange place to make this money to fend his family. Until the end of this conversation what we also did not understand was his name! After quite a struggle we got his name, Kadak! Yes. His name was Kadak. Difficult to digest…err..sorry…pronounce.

He said he will make rotis for dinner. My hubby and I were controlling our excitement to eat his fluffy, puffy rotis. So we said, “Ok! Go change your clothes and start work.” We gave him “his” place in our place. He arranged his things neatly. He had a shower. Then, to our surprise, did a pooja. The whole house smelled of the Agarbati fragrance. I was so happy that we not only got a Nepali cook but also a religious one at that. Wow!

He came out of his pooja in a weird shorts and T-shirt. And a handkerchief (which we did not realize was a multi-purpose cloth).  Then he rushed to the kitchen and started making rotis. We were quite impressed so far. Rotis also were not bad. So, we thought, we finally got our catch!

The next day morning he was up early. And my mother-in-law who cannot speak his language or understand what he says had to struggle explaining every detail of the morning chores. She tried hard but gave up. She said he could stand next to her and observe what she does. That way he will pick up. It was quite funny to see her yell at him. She called him “Kadai” in a typical Mallu accent. Did it matter? He would respond in his typical accent (like the mooing of a cow) “Maa”…

Day after day, we saw him stand next to her obediently, hands tied and watch what she was making. He enjoyed her preparations and told us how great a cook and a person she was! He would drink the sambar she makes even before idlis (at least a dozen of them) were served. He would eat like a glutton. He kept praising her sambar skills. We were amused. But still thought we will give him some time. May be one day he will make sambar as delicious as hers!

A week passed by…weekend approached…he was gearing up. We assumed he wanted to astonish us with his Nepali cuisine. Only on that day we had some time to talk to him after his first day. And to our surprise, the guy said he had never cooked a meal in his lifetime. He knew only to make rotis. We could almost hear our hearts break out of disappointment! Through the week we were assuming that we had a Sanjeev Kapoor in the making. We thought he was trying hard to get an understanding of our cuisine and taste buds!

On top of this, he said he had to have an afternoon siesta since he wakes up early.  We observed this trend anyway for a week. He used to go to bed earlier than us. He said he wanted to take one day off every weekend. He wanted to go out on Sat’day nights and said he will be back on Monday early mornings.

For about 2 months – about 8 weekends – we had different interesting episodes. He obviously knew neither the location nor the language. So, as expected, first weekend, we did not see him until Monday evening. One of the weekends, we insisted he returns by Sunday night. He did come, but was sloshed. And he slept outside our house. We found him the next morning snoring on the lawns.

To add salt to the wound, he picked up quarrels with my maid as well. She was fuming seeing this guy who did nothing but eat 3 courses of meals and 2 to 3 huge glasses of “chai”, had every weekend off and on top of it earned a handsome! She used  to scoff at him and keep abusing him in the local language. Thankfully he did not understand. He used to give that dumb smile (or maybe an intelligent one) which none of us understood and mumble something in Nepali.

At the end of the eighth week, we did not see even an iota of progress with Kadak. With our bubble burst big time, we decided to throw him out! End of Kadak…no more Nepali…no more men cooking. Enough was enough! Kadak taught us how “kadak” it was to employ men in household chores.

Now, was that not enough of a Kadak, kadak?