The case of the missing atta bag..

This is one of those real-life mysteries to which the solution lies only in conjuncture but with no sure-shot evidence whatsoever. So, it being a lazy Sunday morning, I finally conceded to the loud grumbles of our famished tummies at 11:30 in the morning to try and make something quick for lunch. A quick peek into the fridge confirmed the worst. All I had was a couple of bell peppers and some peas. I had potatoes and onions elsewhere and so I thought I’d whip up a random subji and make a couple of parathas each for S and me. I washed the bell peppers and placed my onions and potatoes together with them on the cutting board. I decided I would make the dough for the parathas first so that while I made the subji, the dough would get some “sitting” time which makes the parathas come out so much better. And so I took out my conventional dough-kneading bowl and set it on the counter and leaned over to reach out for the bag of Pilsbury atta. Only it wasn’t there. Don’t you just hate it when that happens to you? You always leave something somewhere and the next time you look for it, it isn’t there. Needless to say, I was completely bamboozled, considering that the Atta bag was the one fixture in it’s own corner on the floor (I keep it there owing to lack of any storage space whatsoever in my minuscule kitchen). What ensued was a hunt, a clean sweep of the kitchen and the hall even… and no atta bag. The bag in which the Pilsbury atta bag sat was there, but empty. Also missing was my measuring ladle. And so I racked my brains. When did I last make something with it? It was one of the weeknights for dinner. Thursday I guessed. When did I take out the trash last? Also Thursday. Did I accidentally throw it out? And so I recalled my garbage –throwing sequence. No, I only had one trash can for the kitchen and yes, I threw out only one garbage bag. Of this I was certain. In the disbelieving wake, I continued to rummage the already-checked cabinets and the obviously empty floor and under the sofa and what not, irking S in the process and with no result or explanation. The only only possibility was that the dudes who came to check the exhaust on the kitchen’s heater unit yesterday thought they were cleaning up when they picked up their trash and my atta bag and left. This is only an assumption of course and there’s no telling it did happen. And if it didn’t, it means I have no explanation left. Hmph.