Power Lunch (Part 1)

It was Zainab's bridal shower. Zainab's mother, Sakina, was grateful to her daughter's friends who had organized this small celebration for both Zainab and Sakina's friends. A series of riotous games had been played, lunch had been served and layers of creased wrapping paper were piling up in a corner.

"Ooh, this last one is heavy." said the bride to be, picking up a cylindrical box and untying a purple ribbon. Sakina's friend Kirsten was frowning and reddening a little. Sakina perceived a little anxiety and guessed the gift must be from her.

"It's not your typical shower gift." said Kirsten. "I'm re-thinking my decision a little here."

Zainab assured her mother's oldest friend she would love it and ripped off the thick paper to reveal a large cardboard box with a picture of a metal object. The label said Superior Tiffin Boxes. Zainab turned to the anxious gift giver and gave the biggest smile she could muster, half wondering if there had been some kind of mistake.

"It's lovely," she managed.

Kirsten knew Zainab's every expression. "Seems a little random now but I watched this TV show about the dabbawallahs of Mumbai.( I hope I pronounced that correctly) It was about how the housewives there make fresh lunches and how this delivery service sends them on a train to their husbands in their offices. I just thought it would be a cool idea."

Zainab began nodding vigorously. Sakina stepped in. "I'm sure she can put it to good use."

 "No, I'm not expecting Zainab to send a home made lunch for her new husband!". I'm not her mother in law. It's just that you guys are always transporting food for pot lucks. I thought this would be a good way to keep curries intact." Kirsten finished with a look that spoke of countless khorma spills in the back of her Toyota.

Zainab's grandmother had been dozing off on a large armchair but had perked up a little at the present-opening ceremony. On viewing Kirsten's gifts, she sat upright. "Oh Kristina beti," she said. " This is not strange at all. In my day, brides often received a tiffin box. It was used a lot for so many things.
The elderly lady pushed back a couple of stray gray hairs into a tiny bun and her eyes sparkled.
"My mother gave each of us a huge tiffin box. It had plates and cutlery attached to it too. We used to take it on picnics to the zoo or to the beach.  Enough plates for the entire Ahmed clan I tell you."

Zainab's grandmother needed only one or two keywords to launch into a trip down Calcutta Lane.
"Oh I remember one day I was at school and I was eating lunch with my friend. I pulled a roti out from my tiffin box and an eagle swooped down, grabbed it from my hand with its beak and flew away!"

The whole party roared with laughter.
"You had one wild childhood, Grandma," said Zainab.
But the elder was not giving up the spotlight just yet.
"Oh then there was Shalini and Malini. Our neighbors. They were twins and their dad was something high up in the police commission. Well a car would come every day at lunchtime bearing piping hot lunches for them. I don't know why but they would just peck at their food like a pair of sparrows. If that had been me I would have devoured the whole thing."

Sakina had put down a cup of green tea and was eager for more. Helping with the games had tired her out and she lived for her mother's tales of India, a place she had left in her teens.
"Ah Sakina, beti," said her mother. "You were such a trial to me in those days. I would pack an elaborate lunch but you would have donated most of it to beggars you saw while walking to school."

Zainab turned to her mother and Kirsten. "This has turned out to be such a lovely afternoon," she said.
"But I just can't picture that huge tiffin box Nanijan mentioned. I wonder if it's google-able."
She then pulled out her phone to try to find an image. She had reached a web-site on the subject and asked her mother to scan it with her.

"I don't believe this, " Sakina exclaimed, handing back the smartphone. "This is really really upsetting."