Eggs…The world’s most heavenly breakfast and I hardly ever get to eat it! Sometimes when I’m half asleep on a Sunday morning, I almost expect to get a whiff of the smell of sizzling fried eggs before I remember that I’m stuck in a godforsaken pure veg hostel. Not that I have anything against vegetarian food, but honestly dosas and uttapas for breakfast every Sunday for a year and I’m ready to put a gun to my head. Okay, it’s not as bad as that, it’s just that when I think about all the omlettes, scrambled eggs, fried eggs and boiled eggs I’ve had in my life and now nothing, zero, zilch…sigh. I think its time this rambling ended. Until next time then.
During the course of the past one year of my life, I have become acutely aware of the fact that an altogether too large population of people love MAGGI. Why this fact should be so unsettling, I don’t know. I personally detest maggi (I know I’m going to get a lot of flak for this!) and I really don’t see how people can be so crazy about it. I’ve had my share of maggi while growing up but at some point of time, I just got too sick of it! I am quite willing to cook it for someone else but lets just say that I will probably only eat it if it happens to be the last bit of food left on earth. Anyway, the point of this blog is not to express my opinion (however strong!) but to narrate an incident that occured last Sunday. Now, having lived in a hostel for a year, I have discovered that maggi can effectively become breakfast, lunch and dinner, not to mention an evening and midnight snack. Believe me, I have been witness to a scene where after an evening of clubbing (and getting no dinner in the process) a bunch of girls eating oceans of maggi and calling it the perfect end to the day! Anyway, after seeing endless maggi advertisements, it was quite heartening to see a real life example the other day on my way back from Bombay to Pune. The bus was stopped at the half-way point between Pune and Bombay, and I saw this girl eating maggi from a styrofoam cup! The setting was just perfect, pouring rain, chilliy breeze and a steaming bowl (cup) of maggi. I don’t know what it was about the scene that touched my heart and almost made me forget my dislike for maggi. Just a thought though, I wonder what she would call it, if it got selected for one of the maggi ads? “Meri bus waali MAGGI” perhaps?
The feeling of falling, however blissful nearly always ends with a bump. Coming back down to earth is never gentle, on the contrary it is inevitably harsh and leaves you winded and while you are gasping for breath you swear to yourself that you will never fall again and yet when the time comes, you once again shut out the voice of reason and fall headlong into the trap. It is quite the vicious cycle, one that will go on as long as mankind exists.
So the big question of the day is why let yourself fall at all? The answer is simply that there is bound to be a time when you finally land on your feet, and that is the most beautiful thing on earth. For there ends the fear of falling and begins a whole new vista of happiness unparalled by anything else on earth. Of course this is a very idealistic assumption and nowadays even a reasonable amount of happiness is considered a good deal. So that brings me back to the point that though there may never be a guarantee of landing safely, in this matter we human beings are serious exceptions to the age old saying ‘once bitten, twice shy’. How else do you explain it?