The Roti or Chapati Maker for our Kitchen!

When my better half mentioned that we needed a new water purifier and some kitchen accessories, my joy knew no bounds. Diwali was approaching and it was my heartfelt wish to surprise her with a modern, innovative upgrade for the kitchen. If a woman found her way to her hubby’s heart was enroute his tummy, a hubby would most certainly find his way to her heart through the kitchen, the provider for the tummy, one thought.

Ever since a television report had demonstrated a roti-maker or chapati making machine, it was my earnest desire to go in for one to aid her in performing routine kitchen chores. Wanting to spring a surprise at the opportune moment, no mention had been made about my plans.

She sensed my rare enthusiasm in joining in for the shopping expedition and was pleasantly surprised, mixed with a tinge of suspicion, though. What made me sacrifice a couple of hours of reading pleasure? Normal circumstances would have found me with an unputdownable thriller. One would also find me incessantly surfing the net or punching away the keyboard in an attempt to write some utter nonsense for my next blog post.

Once at the electronic superstore, my wife began to check out water purifiers and stuff like that. But I began enquiring about this strange new gadget that rolled out roti after roti that I had seen on TV. I was perplexed at the ignorance of the sales persons at the electronic megastore! “Which Channel? Which program?” They asked. But I pursued my dream gadget at every store in the neighborhood. The missionary zeal with which one was eager to acquire this exotic new gadget, without much background information or reference checks about its performance, aroused her suspicion.

“We don’t need a roti-maker or chapati making machine for our kitchen!”, she announced firmly and with the dash of finality.

My heart sank! My efforts to replace the old with the modern appliance had met with cold denial. Even the Indo-US nuclear deal had seen a smoother passage, one thought. Here was an opportunity to relegate that innocent looking wooden implement to the pages of history. One which had ruled the kitchen for several centuries, going beyond its call of duty, it was responsible for depriving husbands world over, from indulging in their important, passionate activities which included playing golf, reading bestsellers, watching important debates on national TV Channels, or cheering your country's team in a closely fought cricket/soccer/whatever-your-passion-sport match, forwarding emails, playing rummy or chess with friends, bird-watching besides socialising (read: getting drunk)in the evening. It had been instrumental in compelling husbands the world over to drop their important indulgent activities midway only to take up menial, unimportant, petty jobs which go by the name of ‘household chores’.

For the uninitiated, household chores are domestic boring errands like hunting for a plumber to fix the leaking tap (that has already caused quite a deluge, btw)or getting the electrician to attend to a spark in the switchboard (that could have burnt the entire neighbourhood) or get some dough (of any kind that your imagination can stretch to).



The “rolling pin”, as it was humbly named, played a crucial role and proved to be another ‘unputdownable’ (for the wife of course). My previous attempt to trade it in for a pillow fight yielded no result. With so many years into our marriage, my wife could easily evaluate the role and function of a pillow-fight as compared to the terrifying effect of the very prospect of hurling a rolling pin. Pillow-fights are only to be watched in advertisements and movies to suggest an ongoing romance. It was only symbolic and had nothing to do with real life.

She declared in a Javed Jafri-esque manner – "It’s different”!

Not wanting another encounter with the domestic 'Head-On Collider', the next trip to the electronic megastore - all by myself this time.

I tried my luck with the roti or chapati making machines.

“It is for industrial canteens – not for homes” he replied firmly.

“There is a really huge one in operation at the Golden Temple at Amritsar and there are some smaller ones for caterers and industrial canteens! Never heard of one for the kitchen of a small family”, he explained.

With faint hopes, one asked, “Do you have a sturdy laptop, which can double up as a shield and can withstand the impact of a rolling pin hurled at the speed of the fastest Brett Lee delivery?”



The poor salesman at the counter remembered my fondness for “unusual necessities” and had been praying hard, that this time around, I would want any of the several gizmos the superstore offered!

But would you call a perfectly normal husband wanting to do what he loves most, on his weekend holiday, “Someone with ‘unusual necessities’”? Or would you rather invent and design gizmos to help husbands the world over stay on course with the important tasks at hand? Did someone not say, "Necessity is the mother of Invention?" I can see this happen - only if mothers and wives allow this to happen!

Seeing is Believing:
Click on the weblinks below to watch some related videos:

1. Chapati making automation of mammoth proportions at the Golden Temple, Amritsar.

2. The smallest chapati making machine in commercial use as on date. A small scale down of this model would serve the purpose and serve humanity (read: husbands world over)

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