Kill the fatted pork sausages

When my bro went off to college, every time he came home, he was treated like a royal personage on a visit. I didn't feel jealous about it - but I felt the fuss was unwarranted. When I went off to college though, my Mum started something new entirely. Pork sausages. Pork or sausages were nothing new in my house; what was new, though, was that Mum would move heaven and earth to ensure that atleast 1 pack of pork sausages were in the freezer if "Dan is coming home". Sometimes, if my visit was a long one, there would be two packs, plus bacon, ham, salami and so on and so forth. But whatever happened - that one pack of pork sausages would be there in the freezer. What felt better was that this pack was completely at my disposal. I've fried those sausages and devoured them at 7 am in the morning, after jumping off the Nilagiri Express (coming back home from college) at times, and I've patiently waited till 3 in the afternoon to cook them, too. The best part? Mum never mentioned a word such as "I'm doing this for you" or anything. She just would mention that sausages were in the freezer, and that was that. For those of you who've been to a hostel which is nearly 700 km from home for four years, you would know the priceless value of such a simple gesture when you walk into your house (Mind you, I had tonnes of other things going for me at home; the pork sausages was the only factor that was unchanging, ever-present and a cherished memory of coming back home). For this, and all the other stops pulled out when your sons returned home from hostel, thanks Mum.

Of Pickles, Pork and a dash of TLC

I love pork. It's my favourite meat. After I went off to college, my mum's cooking reduced greatly - simply because there was little reason for her to keep cooking stuff when neither son was at home, and my dad used to travel all over the country (and the world). It was with great surprise when I suddenly discovered that my Mum was making "pork pickle" during a holiday stint at home (between 3rd and 4th semesters). There were two-and-a-half bottles of pickle that were sent with me to college when I returned. Wowee. Pork pickle, made by your mum, is one of the best things to have when you're in a college hostel which served terrible food 6 days in a week. Truth be told, I rarely used the pickle as pickle. I doubt my mum would have minded. I still remember the pork pickle, the making of, the carrying of it to Ketti (met a senior chaechi - girl - on the bus and asked her if she ate pork) and the consumption thereafter with friends (and discovering that most Keralites eat pork, sadly). That pinch of TLC was well-timed; it went a long way in making me feel close to home and family. Thanks, Mum.