Something More Than Breakfast

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Food for the Soul (and the Stomach).”

Most people love cereals. I don’t. They just taste so weird, like a bunch of starch chips was thrown into milk. Yes, it tastes like that. I don’t get how or why people like it so much.

There are kids whose only staple food is cerelac, you know, those powdered substances you have to dissolve in water to form a paste which apparently has all the nutrients kids need? I have to admit they smell nice and inviting. But, they don’t taste any better than the cereals, in fact, they taste worse. I tired to eat some that my cousin left over the other day. I ended up gagging. Even when I was a kid, Ammu could never feed me cerelac. I simply hated it. I’m glad the kid got tired of it as well. Plain rice with bitter gourd is so much better.

Yes, I say bitter gourd. It used to be one of my favorites when I was a kid. I could have an entire meal with just that and rice. Plain rice is an all-time favorite as well.

Bet you’re thinking I’m weird. Doesn’t matter really.

But none of theses things are suitable for breakfast. No, sir. There is only one combination of things that makes my breakfast perfect, and to be honest, I don’t get to have my perfect breakfast most days.

It’s flour roti with aloo bhaji and an omelette egg. That’s it. It’s pretty simple, but it takes time I don’t have and effort I can’t afford. Besides, it doesn’t turn out the way I want if I try to do it. Someone else has to do it for me. It doesn’t sound like much, but it is so much more than just a breakfast.

It’s my childhood and the innocence and the carefree attitude I had then trickling back in with every bite.  It’s me living my life before all these changes happened, even though I know that these shape my personality more than what I eat, I can’t help but yearn for the perfection my childhood seemed to have.

It feels like home.

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Author: anankhan98

When I close my eyes, I see myself as a writer. I see a pale blank page in front of me and feel a solid pen in my hand. I feel inspiration flowing through me, hear the words being whispered in my ears, ready to be written. And I see myself writing them. So, I write. And that is why I am here right now. To let the world know that I want to become better at this. That there is this unbelievably naive living in this corner of the world, who wants to have people help her become the best she can become. My focus is actually on fiction. I dream up stories in my sleep, literally. And I can't help but want to write them. Knowing English only as a second language is a drawback, though. I still try.

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