Source : Wikimedia Commons

From past 2 days, something is haunting me. I try to find a meaning behind it, but I seem to fail every time. It is not of much significant value. It is not something I think of always. Forget always, I don’t even think of it rarely. Yet, it is haunting me from past 2 days. As the title of this post suggests, it is ‘that lavender biscuit dabba (box)’ back home in Bangalore.

I don’t remember when my mom bought that box. But, it seems to have been present from time immemorial. To give you a visualization of the box, it is a plastic, round, printed white box with a snap on lavender coloured lid, probably 5 inches in height. It carried biscuits, the UK version of biscuits, the hard ones, not the flaky, soft American version. Sometimes, it carried just the biscuit wrappers. Rarely, it carried some homade puffed rice chivda mixture. Mostly, it carried memories.

I love biscuits, have loved it since I was a toddler. As a toddler, I used to wake up at midnight, ask for 2 Marie biscuits, eat them and go back to sleep. Yeah, bad habits do start pretty early. But, I carried on that ritual for a long time. Back then, Marie biscuits used to come in white wrapper. As time went by, Marie got replaced by Parle-G, Goodday, Krack Jack, Bourbon and various other biscuit brands. But, love for Marie still is the same. Eating Marie dunked in tea is a feeling that cannot be put in words. Cookies here don’t give me the same pleasure as those biscuits.

That lavender biscuit dabba haunts me!