Crème House

Sweets and Cravings

Sanath had faith in the gods, many deities and Buddha. That’s why he considered Crème House, his restaurant, a divine gift. He was at the vihara temple in Seeduwa every morning to thank them. He drove his noisy and shaky Tuk-Tuk back home, thoroughly enjoying the bumpy and chaotic ride. At home, he had a ritual: he splashed some yellow water on his face, a mixture of turmeric and holy water that he believed would protect him from evil and bring him good fortune. Then he wore his best clothes, a white shirt and black pants, and went to Crème House, his life’s work.

Crème House was a two-storey building at a busy crossroads. It had large glass windows that made it look modern and splashy, but also exposed the dirt and dust that settled on them. It was open from dawn to dusk, serving customers various snacks, drinks, and fruit juice. He had employed a team of women to run the place, as he felt they were more reliable and hardworking than men. They were faithful to him, except for his sisters-in-law.

His wife was paralysed and needed constant care. So, he sought comfort with her sisters. They worked at Crème House, as waitresses, cooks, and cleaners. They also stole from him, but he did not mind. He felt they deserved the money more than him. Besides, he did not bother to keep track of his income or expenses. He did not give receipts or keep accounts.

The Crème House was a daily scene of chaos and noise, where parents dragged their unruly children, and lovers whispered sweet nothings. The tables were small and round, the chairs were wooden and creaky, the fans were winged and dusty, the walls were white and stained, the cupboards were filled with stale snacks and chilled drinks. In the kitchen, a gaggle of women chattered and clattered, frying and refrying the same short eats and sipping some on the sly.

The biggest thief was the elder sister-in-law, who was more cunning than the rest. Whenever she felt like it, she would take five thousand rupees, saying she would return it. But she never did. She also seduced him with her charms, and he fell for her. He did not know who the father of her children was. Her husband did not mind. He did not know either.

Crème House was a place of renown, but also of trouble. One day, the health inspectors came and saw the food lying uncovered. They said they would shut down the place if Sanath, the owner, did not obey the rules of hygiene. Sanath was in a panic and begged them to have mercy, vowing to mend his ways. He also gave them some food and drinks for free, hoping to win them over. The inspectors were not moved, but they were famished. They agreed to let Sanath off the hook and ate his food. They found it very tasty. They neglected their duty and had a good time. They left Crème House with a grin and a caution, telling Sanath to be more vigilant next time.

Sanath was glad and thankful. He praised the gods and the yellow water for his rescue. He then climbed up the stairs to check on the other floors. The stairs were tight and sharp, almost perilous. He had to watch his step or risk a fall. He got to the second floor, where he had a small kitchen for heating and frying food.

One of the women who worked for Sanath was not his kin. She was the shop assistant, a woman with twisted front teeth who thought she was a beauty. She was wedded to a man who paid her no heed and had a child who looked like neither. She liked to go to the bank to put in the money from Crème House and to the shops to get supplies. Her clothes were always ill-matched, garish, or outdated. She enjoyed the notice she got from the men in the town, who she believed all wanted her. She did not see their scorn or disdain. She also drew the young lads, who saw her as an easy target. They would trail her around, hoping for a quick favour from her in some dark nook or behind shops.

The women who worked for Sanath, his sisters-in-law, had their spats. All of his wife’s sisters worked there or relied on Sanath. They spoke in a tongue that no one else could grasp. They would yell and swear at each other, then switch to courteous and deferential tones as if nothing had occurred.

Sanath would smile and wait until the last customers went away at dawn. He would then pull down the shutters and lock the doors. Some regular customers came every day and sat at the same tables. They were taken by the women’s manners and ordered the same food and drinks every time.

Sanath’s daughter from his wife sometimes visited Crème House. Surprisingly, it wasn’t her who was afraid of her father; it was Sanath who seemed a bit scared of her. She had a knack for taking money from the cash register, like grabbing sweets when she felt like it.

Sanath had some strict rules for her. He didn’t want her to go to college or have a boyfriend. She had to use three-wheelers for transportation and wasn’t allowed to walk on the streets. He made her wear white dresses like to cover her natural beauty. Although he gave her a smartphone, he didn’t provide a data SIM, fearing she might use Facebook or Instagram to meet boys. Little did he know, she had a secret SIM card to go online whenever she wanted, It was her key to the online realm, allowing her to defy her father’s digital chastity belt at her leisure.

Disclaimer: The above is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The author has made every effort to portray the characters and events in a fictional and entertaining manner.

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