Those were....

"Are you sure this is safe?", we asked from the sidelines.
"Eda, can't you see? I can't take more precautions than this!!", Thotti, exasperated, muttered from under the helmet.
We weren't so sure this was a good idea. But expert ideas were not forthcoming either.
Thotti slowly moved towards it, the tongs extended.
Another loud hiss and he jumped back, and stared at us. Flashed one of those stupid laughs the way only he or Jose could do, when faced with a difficult one. This is going to be more difficult than we'd planned.

It all began when we decided that we'd spend the study leave at Nitin's place. His "Kunjammamaar" make the the most delicious and the thinnest home made dosas ever. Period. Thotti (Ranjith-Thotti- because he was the tallest among us, and called all of us "Kullanmaar"), Jose and I readily agreed, with the mouth watering perspective of unlimited paper thin dosas in mind. But alas, the whole family had gone home for vacation, and we were to tend (and cook) for ourselves.

The culinary skills being limited to rice and dal and ghee (yea, yea, I know, after 3 years of hostel and bachelor life, this was quite a feat that we knew so little...), we decided that well, we'd have it for lunch and dinner and bread for breakfast.

And then we had to face the formidable enemy. The stainless steel mechanical wonder - the Pressure Cooker!! Rice- we could manage in a vessel. But Dal? With not even a clue about the intricacies of the number of "whistles" and the weight lifting skills of steam, we decided that we'd get help from the experts. The call center being Divya.

"Hello, Divya? How many cups of water do you need for one cup of dal?"
"You guys cooking there?"
"Er....."
"Hahahahahaaha....."
(She did try really hard to suppress that laugh...)
"Ahem..."
"Oh, yes, ...for one cup of dal..."
And on and on she went...

Well, we did get the measurements right and she did tell us how many whistles we were to watch out for...

Hmmm...

They had a mechanical text book perched somewhere on the fridge, and were discussing complex machinery and I had a text book, and was day dreaming, while the dal cooked...and cooked...and cooked...

Hey wait...Isn't there supposed to be a whistle somewhere in between?
Uh oh...

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The numerous press stories had given the pressure cooker the image of a wildly unpredictable contraption that could go off on a sneeze...the fact that we couldn't find an ISI mark on it just helped heighten our fear...
Well, what the hell, with proper precaution (Ahem, no pun intended!!)

Thotti fetched his helmet and the tongs. We gathered by a corner. He slowly advanced. If he could just lift the weight a bit and release the steam...

HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!

Thotti jumped back, and gave that smile...

"How many whistles did she say it takes for this to cook?"

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The dal was yummy!!