A bite of satisfaction

The morning was freezing. The newspapers told me all about it.I opened the door to an overly enthusiastic maid who was cheery at that ungodly hour. I let her in half-heartedly, and she began her chores earnestly.I crawled to the haven of my warm comforter. I wasn’t going to get up.
She continued to scrub the vessels with earnest vigor.
The splash of water was like a knife.
I felt guilty. She was humming a cheery tune and was engrossed in her task. She proudly showed me the reflection of her face in a plate.I smiled at her.
I decided to make some coffee for her. After all, she was making my vessels sparkle. She deserved some happiness as well.
I made her a strong cup of hot coffee and she was grateful.
She nursed the cup between her palm basking in the warmth, watching the sunrise from my balcony.i didn’t want to break her reverie.she was smiling and content.
I slowly walked away from the kitchen when she stopped me reluctantly.
I looked at her quizzically.she had something to ask me. But was hesitant. She thought it might offend me.I beckoned her to ask me anyway. My half-asleep state was her best bet. She walked over to the pile of vessels that were washed and handed me a pizza cutter.
She wanted to know what it was and how to use it.
And she thought I might get annoyed.
I explained to her that it was a pizza cutter. I mimicked the action. She smiled at the knowledge she acquired. Then she said that her son had wanted to always eat a pizza. He was mesmerized by the ads on TV and hoardings. She had tried making the pizza with roti and some vegetables spread on top. She didn’t get the look on the ad. She asked me if it was plastic surgery that made the pizza look delectable on the photos. She further asked me where she could buy it. After mentally collecting this information, she proceeded to scrub and mop my floor.
The next few days were hazy.I continued to be a zombie, regularly making her coffee to make up for her loss of sleep in those freezing mornings.
This morning she looked pained. It was probably another coffee session. She stood staring into a distance.The sky was breaking into beautiful colors. Birds were just beginning to chirp.
“Too expensive didi, they think money grows on trees “she lamented out of nowhere.
I didn’t have to prod further. She was already agitated.
“I took my son to the outlet, I wanted their cheapest pizza. But given that I’m a maid, they knew that I’m not as sharply dressed or this is not my cuisine. They gave me a number that is beyond my monthly salary. How are people able to afford it?”She asked me.”I think I will start a pizza fund. Then maybe I will be able to get some money.Do you think I can do some work for you”.i thought she was mocking at the expectation that pizza was overrated and a common man could not possibly afford it. But she was serious.It was an ambition that she was determined to fulfill. Her mind was latched there. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She would probably trade her in her hands if I could get her to the pizza. My heart was heavy. The people who had to serve her pizza were also workers like her and me. She had earned the right to eat hers with the same pride as anyone else did.She woke up much earlier than others to make a decent living. While I complained about opening the door for a few seconds to let her in, she had walked all the stairs way from her house in that nippy weather. All she did was take that with a smile. Scrub vessels, clean toilets in that darkness. She did that with a smile. when life threw a pizza-sized challenge,the solution was building a fund.I thought about it.I have mindlessly spent money on frivolous things on an impulse. Never gave a second thought about how a pizza could mean something different to another person.It was just a regular meal.it had become so ingrained in our lifestyles. This time had to be different.i wasn’t going to let a dimwit behind a counter put a dampener on something reasonable.
I said “Yes , you can come for extra work.but on Sunday “she seemed pleased and gulped her coffee down.
Sunday she came with her son.she retorted that he would not sit at home without her. She seemed apologetic.
I lifted the little boy in my arms and walked. she seemed perplexed.wasnt the work at my apartment?
I told her to walk with me.We reached the outlet. She froze.I dragged her hand.i assured that nothing would happen.We Walked in and the man behind the counter smirked at us.A maid, a kid and an outlier looking determined.
I ordered a pizza for both of them.I wasn’t going to be let down by smirks or taunts.I was their shield that day. Their pizzas arrived. The boy and his mother took a bite. Tears welled up in her eyes. The boy was jubilant.
This was priceless and probably the best pizza lunch that I’ve ever had.

Ever since my vessels have sparkled and so have their smiles