I didn't have a crisis at that instance, with one cylinder just half empty and the second still unused. Yet I nudged my husband to buy an induction stove "to be on the safe side".

Knowing that the condition at home was well under control, my husband didn't budge, despite my dramatic explanation of how in due course we would exhaust all the supplies and would be panicking when all the electric cooking appliances would be sold out. However, his optimistic thinking - that it was a temporary crisis which would be resolved soon - deterred him from any such purchases. His valuable suggestion to me was to minimise cooking, which I most eagerly welcomed. I took immediate action; the next day coffee was lukewarm, it was toasted bread for breakfast and a one-pot dish for lunch. He reheated the coffee in the microwave and was happy with the breakfast and lunch options, and dinner was done with leftovers.

As my resentment over not purchasing the electrical gadget continued, cooking was minimal. Salads and fruits became more prominent. I was regularly reporting to him how many of our friends were now lucky owners of the precious gadget. Meanwhile, the first gas cylinder ran out. Booking for the refill didn't even confirm if and when it would be delivered.

Whether it was my continuous ranting or the need for his gastronomic indulgence, my husband finally changed his mind. He made a bold decision to invest in the induction stove, which called for regular cooking and more.

All that was missed over the last few days was prepared, justifying the purchase. And we praised it for its fast and efficient cooking. At the beginning of the new month came a shocker: the electricity bill, with a record-high amount - way over the Griha Jyothi allowance.

Now we were in a dilemma whether to conserve the precious LPG or the costly electricity. I was running between the gas and electric stoves, trying to balance the usage and optimise benefit. One fine day, I suddenly heard a rattling noise at my gate, and to my great surprise and joy, my spare cylinder was delivered. The sound was music to my ears and the sight divine. I became emotional to see the red cylinder, the object of my adoration, at the door. I delighted the delivery boy with an additional tip and celebrated the delivery by preparing kesari baath, as if welcoming a newborn at home. I am back to my delectable cooking, hoping for no more crises.

Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.