As a kid I would rather skip dinner than eat bitter gourd. My mother made it every Thursday. I counted.
She tried everything. Fried thin like chips, stuffed with masala, mixed into dal where I couldn't see it.
I found it anyway. One bite and I'd spit it into a napkin and hide the napkin in my pocket.
Once I forgot a napkin in my school trousers for 2 days. Everybody in my class knew.
Something changed after I moved abroad. Nobody cooked it for me there.
One Saturday I saw a pile at an Indian grocery shop and bought 2. I don't know why.
I fried them in my tiny kitchen with way too much salt. They were awful. I ate all of them.
The week after, I bought 4. My flatmate asked what the smell was and I said dinner.
Back in Hyderabad now. My mother got so happy when I asked for it that she cried a little.
Then she made it that same Thursday. Fried thin, a bit burnt on the edges, onion on top.
I eat it with plain rice and nothing else. Sambar would only get in the way.
She still puts 2 extra pieces on my plate and watches me eat them like a hawk.
My nephew is 7 and hates it the way I did. I told him it gets better.
He gave me a look like I was selling him something.
My mother told me not to say anything more. She says he'll find the napkin trick himself.
I've told him where I used to hide mine, but not the part about the trousers.