I was formally introduced to the concept of a fork and knife a very long time ago by two people – my brother and my uncle and was forced to eat dosas and idlis with them by a hard- headed sorry bald headed headmaster who used to wear a blazer in the blazing heat of South India. That, he was previously at the St. Joseph's, Coonoor probably explained a lot. The sudden transition from unruly boys breaking open lunch boxes, especially that of others to pseudo gentlemen trying to wield a fork was quite hard. This experience came quite handy some years later when I had to hunt a pomegranate and dissect a mango using blunt knives. But that is a different story. Staying here, I've realised that the knife could also be held in the left hand and some veggies could still be cut, with enough experience and time at the dinner table. Better still, that rice need not be had in the wrong side of the fork in true Brit style with more than 40 percent accounting for casualties but could also be wielded with as much ease in the right.