Aloo and me

Aloo and me go back a long long way. Presumably, after milk, the next form of food that I was fed with was aloo and thus begin my tryst with Aloo. Now, its actually more of a never ending saga with me trying to run away from it and aloo trying to always magically land at my breakfast/lunch/dinner plate in a desperate hope to please me.

So the story goes like this-As a marwari family, aloo is supposed be our staple diet. So be it Holi, be it Diwali, be it birthdays, be it anniversaries, be it any of the zillions of other festivals and occasions, one thing that unfortunately has been an integral part of the celebrations is aloo-desperate seeker of attention.

Okay, I will some credit to it as, after all, it is considered to be the "king of vegetables" (whatever shit that means!) But does it have to mess with all the other existing vegetables that are capable of having their own individual identity. Have you ever asked beans or capsicum or brinjal if they even enjoy aloo's company? I am sure they are sick of it. And so am I.

Aloo hijacks every alternate meal at my home. While I have had the luxury of ignoring aloo for almost five years when I stayed on my own but now since I have come back to live with the marwari family (my folks), aloo is acting vindictive and attacking all my meals. Ofcourse, the rest of the members of my family would not dare offend aloo. So on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday Friday, Wednesday, and Sunday, its aloo that sarcastically smiles at me from my own shiny glass plate and sometimes it is in an awfully uncomfortable liaison with poor other cute vegetables, without their consent! Hate you aloo. Hate you.