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She had just finished loading a hired auto with fresh dhokla for a marriage party. Finally, my mother could delegate routine tasks like delivery and focus on her core competence - cooking. She took out a dhokla piece from the auto for me. Bad business - snucking out something from a customer order.
'Great match. Nail-biting finish, we won,' I said, walking in.
I switched on the tubelight inside. The homes in our pol required light even during daytime.
'If I have a good Diwali season, I will get you a colour TV,' mom vowed.
'No need,' I said. I removed my shoes to get ready for a shower, 'you need a bigger grinder urgently, the small one is all wobbly'
'I will buy the TV if only the business makes extra money,' she said.
'No. If you make extra money, put it back in the business. Don't buy useless things. I can always see the match in colour in Ishaan's house.'
She left the room. My mother knew it was futile arguing with me. Without dad around, it was amazing how much say I had in the house. And I only hoped Ish and Omi would listen to my proposition as well.
My love for business began when I first started tuitions. It was amazing to see money build up. With money came not only things like coolers and sofas but also the most important stuff - respect. Shopkeepers no longer avoided us, relatives re-invited us to weddings and our landlord's visit did not throw us into turmoil. And then there was the thrill - I was making money, not earning it under some boss or getting a handout. I could decide my fate, how many students to teach, how many hours per class - it was my decision.