Serving Crazy with Curry: A Novel

Serving Crazy with Curry: A Novel

Amulya Malladi

Language: English

Pages: 173

ISBN: 2:00028784

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Between the pressures to marry and become a traditional Indian wife and the humiliation of losing her job in Silicon Valley, Devi is on the edge–where the only way out seems to be to jump. . . .

Yet Devi’s plans to “end it all” fall short when she is saved by the last person she wants to see: her mother. Forced to move in with her parents until she recovers, Devi refuses to speak. Instead, she cooks . . . nonstop. And not the usual fare, but off the wall twists on Indian classics, like blueberry curry chicken or Cajun prawn biryani. Now family meals are no longer obligations. Devi’s parents, her sister, and her brother-in-law can’t get enough–and they suddenly find their lives taking turns as surprising as the impromptu creations Devi whips up in the kitchen each night. Then a stranger appears out of the blue. Devi, it appears, had a secret–one that touches many a nerve in her tightly wound family. Though exposing some shattering truths, the secret will also gather them back together in ways they never dreamed possible.

Interspersed with mouthwatering recipes, this story mixes humor, warmth, and leap-off-the-page characters into a rich stew of a novel that reveals a woman’s struggle for acceptance from her family and herself.

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Mrs. Parson could as well have said that Avi and Saroj were sexually molesting their child, Saroj was so horrified. “What on earth are you talking about? My child has everything she needs. Are you saying we don't love her?” Saroj demanded. She stood up as she spoke, kicking her chair aside, towering over the teacher, her hands bunched into fists at her waist. “Please, Missus Veturi,” Mrs. Parson pleaded, but she was looking at Avi because it was obvious that mere words would not placate Saroj.

Then, she never explained why. She didn't think anyone was interested. What her parents wanted was for such an incident not to be repeated and Devi ensured that. Beyond that she didn't feel she owed them any explanations. After that Devi went into silence mode for a few days now and again, whenever she got upset or whenever she didn't want to say anything to anyone. It hadn't happened in seven years. Well, let's face it, it hadn't happened since she left her mother's house. Devi glanced.

Flustered, and then looked at Devi, forcing herself to be calm. “How about a walk? Some fresh air?” Devi picked up her plate and ran her tongue on it. She set the plate down, perversely pleased that she'd been able to do what she just did without Saroj yelling the place down. As a child it was a treat to lick a plate smeared with remains of delicious goodies and she used to have to do it stealthily, but now, now she was a basket case, she could do anything she wanted to do. Devi nodded to Vasu.

Shekhar Uncle. “No, he isn't your new father,” Vasu explained when Saroj wanted to know. “He's my friend. I am allowed to have friends just like you are.” It seemed logical to Saroj then and she accepted Shekhar Uncle as her mother's friend. But she wasn't stupid or blind. She knew that none of her friends’ mothers had men friends, and even if they did, none of those friends stayed the night. When she told Vasu that her friends were calling Vasu bad names because of her relationship with.

Wanted. Shobha was dripping with jewelry in the picture, and it looked as if she were getting ready for third-degree Chinese torture instead of a happy future with her new husband. Girish looked uncomfortable in his south Indian wedding attire. The panchi was askew, his kurta completely wrinkled, and the red tilakam on his forehead seemed to be in his eyes. They both were smiling, but their eyes and smiles were empty. Vasu remembered Shobha saying, “Thank God the ordeal is over,” when the.

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