The great task of making the best thandai for holi

A short story about Nonu's chance to prove his worth to family, friends and a special someone

Holi is an Indian festival in which family, friends and strangers play with colored powders and water, eat delicacies and drink Thandai, a heavenly milk based drink.

Credit - Pinterest

There was never a Holi when a fight didn’t break out for Disha’s thandai. But this year, she had a broken arm. There were talks of cancelling the gathering.

“Nonu can make it.” The teenager had pushed his glasses up the nose and puffed out his chest at his mother’s words. The father had given him a look over.

“I will guide him through it.” Ritesh had thrown up his hands in the air as he went to make his own preparations for the next day’s feast. He had to dice the vegetable and paneer for subji, prepare the tomato puree with chillies and ginger, and knead the dough for puris.

Their five-year-old daughter ran rampant around the kitchen till she found that she could peel the potatoes and dunk her hands in the water if she helped her father. Tara couldn’t have found a better way to enjoy her evening.

Disha sat on the floor near the kitchen table outside, guiding Nonu on how to use the mortar and pestle. The couple had brought it from a road trip about two years after their marriage. They had stopped for tea at a small dhaba in Rajastha, and had the best garlic chutney with hot bajra rotis. The woman making the food sat a few feet away and told them her secret.

When Disha gushed, the woman had asked her son, who was waiting on them, to bring them the one they had in the back. Disha had refused at first because she wouldn’t let them pay for it. The old lady had thrust the set into their driver’s hands. Ritesh had slipped two of thousand-rupee notes in the young man’s hands along with their bill.

Since then, Disha had used it for special occasions only. Even Ritesh was never allowed to use it for his recipes. Nonu had almost shown his tongue before he remembered his father could take it away.

So, he sat with all the ingredients around him, not complaining that they could just use the mixer his father was using for tomatoes.

Disha had already soaked almonds, cashews, pistachios, poppy and melon seeds in the morning. Nonu had peeled the skin of almonds before beginning with the task.

He rolled up his sleeves, making Disha laugh before she told him how many dry fruits to take at a time. They made two big batches every year just to run out in an hour. This year, the lady had decided to make double. Nonu had agreed. How hard could it be anyway?

He regretted his thought after the first batch. Disha had guided him on how much of fennel seeds, black pepper corn, green cardamoms, cinnamon powder, and saffron was to be added. He made a pile in middle of the mortar with all the ingredients, added about two spoons of milk and started grinding.

“I know your secret recipe now, Maa! What will you do next Holi?” He teased her, making Disha throw her head back in laughter.

“I will sit back and enjoy! Just like your sister. Can’t ever imagine giving this recipe to her.” She pointed her eyes at the girl who had reduced the potato to a stick, and was proudly showing it off to her father. Ritesh was telling Tara what good work she had done as he took it from her, making her giggle before she attacked another one with her blunt peeler.

Nonu’s eyebrows rose as he turned around to whisper to his mother, “He would have kicked me out by now.”

“I heard that! Go back to your work, Nonu. We have to wake up early tomorrow.” Ritesh called out without facing them.

“You were meant to!” Nonu replied, earning the stick of potato to his head, before he picked up the pestle again.

Disha kept adding milk with a spoon till the paste ran smooth. Nonu stood up after the second time to turn on the fan, “Now, I understand why you only make a little. I think I have developed more muscles than two months of gym.” He squeezed his biceps to show how tight they were.

“This is how the older people remained fit.” Disha made another pile on the mortar with her left hand.

“Maa, we forgot the rose petals!” He picked up the bag from table to show it to her.

“I add it in the morning to the top of the glass. Make sure you wash them before keeping them in the fridge too.” She waved away his concern and motioned for him to sit down.

The duo worked for two hours to grind the paste before it was to be added to the boiled milk. Ritesh had done it already, adding the sugar as Disha instructed. Nonu added the blended mixture before stirring it for another hour.

He would have to remain up till it cooled down under the fan before storing it in the fridge for the next day. They never added ice to their thandai. It took away the taste, according to Disha, and the family agreed.

Nonu stayed up till one in the morning, making sure that there were no lumps in the drink, and that the setting of their fridge was perfect so it wouldn’t ice the liquid.

The friends and relatives were served the cold drink as soon as they entered the garden for the festival. Nonu had taken it upon himself to fill every glass and delicately place two petals of the aromatic rose flower at the top. He had grinned at the compliments flying his way. Even little Tara had smacked her lips before thrusting her glass up to ask for a refill.

Disha couldn’t stop gushing over how he made it better than her and now she could pass over the mantle to him while Ritesh had rolled his eyes behind her back. But she had caught him sighing in pleasure when he drank his glass, making Nonu smile smugly.

But the young man was waiting for someone special, daughter of his parent’s friend. This was the first time in years, Shikha Sharma would come to their party instead of spending it in her hostel.

The Sharmas were late. And Nonu was dragged to play with his friends. He only caught a glimpse of her after two hours. Excusing himself from his friends, he dusted himself off and shook off the extra color from his hair before sliding in beside his father like a good son.

He poured them all the drink from the cooler after washing his hands, and sreved the glasses to adults first. The parents told the girl how this was the famous thandai that they were talking about and the girl looked at Nonu with a smile, expecting her glass.

There wasn’t any left in the pan. Nonu asked for a minute before running inside to get more.

“That was the last one, Nonu.” Disha reminded him when she saw him rummaging around the kitchen, “Your glass is in the fridge.” He always drank his glass after the meal. He had forgotten to ask his mother this year. But she remembered.

Nonu let out a sigh, and took the glass, dashing outside after thanking his mother for saving his day. She looked at him with furrowed brows through the window before a smile took over face and she shook her head at the scene.

Nonu handed Shikha his chilled glass of thandai with trembling fingers.

“It is amazing. Where is Aunty?” Shikha exclaimed after just a sip.

“Oh! Nonu made it this year.” Ritesh threw his hands over his son’s shoulder and the young man turned red behind his colored cheeks.

“He has made it better than mine.” Disha joined them, patting Nonu’s arm.

“Well, that’s debatable!” Ritesh piped in, making Disha roll her eyes before she sent the children to play.

“I loved it. Will you teach me one day?” Shikha asked him.

“Yes. One day.” Nonu rubbed the back of his head, blushing.

---

How do you celebrate Holi? Is it your favorite? Have you ever had this sweet drink?

To make sure that you don’t miss out on the upcoming sweet stories like this one

If this story managed to make you smile or blush, let me know by liking, restacking, leaving a cool comment or becoming a member to support The Indian Story.

Till the next one,