The Obvious Disparity

My stomach was rumbling. I had just made adai and it was lying in a plate near the gas stove. I opened the fridge to remove the can of milk. As I poured the milk into a bowl, I was immediately transported to the good 'ol days when milk never came in milk cans but was just fresh. I remember how we used to wait for the milk man to come in the evening so tht we could have a cup of fresh steaming coffee.
The timely ring of his cycle bell accompanied with 'Amma, paaal' would be the manner he would announce his arrival. I would immediately rush to the door, with a coupon on one hand, and a steel vessel on the other. He would measure it carefully in his measuring glass and pour in a litre into the vessel I held. I would tell him 'innum konjam vidunga...oru litrekku kammiya thaan viturikeenga'. Invariably, he would have this habit of dropping at least a drop on the kolam which had been drawn to precise perfection irritating me time and again.
And he would grumble and pour and I with a triumphant smile would walk back to my kitchen.
Despite the fact that we used to grumble saying 'paal inniki thanniya irukku', the joy of setting the fresh milk that still had froth on it on the gas stove was immense.
And all this appeared as a vision in my mind as I opened the milk can and poured it into the bowl. Subtle differences- fresh milk or Aavin paal vs canned milk. These differences though are glaring. But we are now used to it as a way of life.
When I was in India all these did not matter. The milkman came in the wee hours of morning and by the time we had woken up and brushed our teeth, steaming hot coffee would be ready. For many of us, the arrival of the milkman was the alarm clock. Combined with MS' ''Venkatesha suprabatham', The Hindu,the steaming coffee would be a treat to all the senses.
There used to be some mornings, very rare, maybe once in a blue moon, when the milk would not arrive on time and we would sulk.
But comparing with what I am today, I understand there is no time to sulk. You need to go, get the milk, ensure there is always stock, else walk down to the super store and buy milk. Skimmed, semi-skimmed, oragnic..the shelves are full of them. I wonder how it would be if our milkman came to every house carrying three milk cans, one containg whole milk, the second carrying semi-skimmed milk and the third carrying skimmed milk. I am sure most of us would not even look at the second and third cans. 'Coffee thick-a irukanum..thanniya irundhaa yeppadi kudikardhu' would be a comment that would ring across the house if you serve filter coffee in skimmed milk.
I come back to reality. These two experinces are vast apart-completely different-yet a part of the same life.
Now, that is indeed philosophical considering the subject of this post!!