There is a certain culture, a tradition, in the way we eat. Shyam’s father would always tell Shyam to finish his meal on his own plate. While eating, one must not pick from others’ plates first! One must not be greedy. Do not leave food on your plate. Do not speak ill of the food that has been served to you. If you find a stone or anything odd in the food, quietly remove it without making a fuss, but if it is something harmful, then you must tell your mother. Shyam’s father himself followed these rules. After he finished eating, his plate would be so clean that it was hard to tell whether anyone had eaten from it at all. There would not be a single grain of rice left around his plate. Similarly, if any grains of rice fell around the children’s plates, they were made to gather them all together. Never once did anyone complain about the food served. If someone asked, “How was it?” and the answer was “Excellent,” only then was it considered good. There was never any mischief at mealtime.

Let me tell you about one such day. After performing the daily worship at home, Shyam’s father went to the Ganpati temple, while Shyam and his siblings sat down to eat. They left only the rice on their plates, eating everything else. When their father returned—

As soon as I appeared, mother would tell me to go and wash my hands and feet. When Bapu returned, he would bring holy water with him, and after distributing that holy water to everyone, the meal would begin.

Shyam’s mother was an excellent cook. Whatever vegetable she prepared, it always tasted delicious when made by her hands. Her hands were truly the hands of Annapurna herself! Whatever she did, she did with all her heart. When the heart is sweet, everything becomes sweet and tastes sweet. That day, she had made leafy greens—Shyam’s favorite. But mother forgot to add salt. In the rush of chores, she simply forgot. Yet, no one said a word while eating. Bapu didn’t say anything, nor did the children. No one reached for the salt to sprinkle on their plate. “How is the vegetable?” Bapu asked. “It’s good,” I replied. Since it was Shyam’s favorite vegetable, Bapu asked him, and Shyam gave the same answer as his father. “Now that he’s started learning English, he doesn’t like these vegetables anymore!” Bapu teased.

“If learning English is going to make me worse, then why do you want me to study?” Shyam retorted.

“I only said it to tease you. You look nice when you get angry. Don’t you like the taste of cucumber flowers? Sometimes I eat even the tough ones. If the vegetable is old, make it at home,” Bapu said.

Mother nodded in agreement. Thus, the meal passed in good spirits. Bapu got up, washed his face, and went outside. There, he began his hundred paces while reciting the Vishnusahasranama. After