Love at the first bite

Disclaimer: This post is just to express the personal feelings about the mentioned dish and does not intend to criticize or discourage vegetarian diet.

I don’t remember exactly but I think it must be a love at first bite. I must have been in love, when I had the first bite of chicken. I must have seen it prepared in a dish inviting me to taste it. I would have had it and I would have been crazy about it. I can’t remember how my first encounter with it was, but surely it was similar to what I dream about now. Now, it’s been years and I still love chicken dishes more than any other dish.

In my current life, it’s an event to have chicken. When I work I look forward to the weekend, just to have chicken. I am really lucky that I am always accompanied by some of my friends who share my ideology on chicken. Of course, it’s fun to have chicken but, to have it with the company of people who really respect the dish as you do, is a great feeling. On such moments, you find your appetite doubled.

I always used to think, what I would do without chicken. Sometimes I was afraid, what if I get bored of this dish as I had started to take chicken thrice a week. The feeling was horrible. Sometimes, I thought I should lessen my frequency, but I couldn’t help. I decided to take a good long break. In the Hindu calendar there is a month called ‘Sawan’ when it is prohibited to have any non-vegetarian dish. Actually, since I left home for the studies, I never followed any period to be prohibited from chicken, but this time I took a very harsh and brave decision, not to have chicken. The four weeks I lived the life of a vegetarian. Although, one says he is vegetarian they end up having dishes of Paneer. Believe me it is nowhere near substituting chicken dishes. It was really difficult time for me to go to the restaurant and order pure vegetable dishes. Did I tell you about the pure vegetable starters? Well for me starter doesn’t exist if it doesn’t contain chicken. For the four weeks, I felt like a prisoner who made the cage himself. I saw the life which I used to laugh at. In this period I was pained by those who suffered my sarcasms, when they used to have vegetarian dishes. I thought I have to pay it respect as I had no choice but to be stern on my decision.

Finally, as every night is followed by morning, the Sun rose in my life to tell that ‘Sawan’ is over. It was the day of ‘Gatari Amawashya ’. For the people like me such days brings happiness. I was so lucky that the day was Saturday. As it was a holiday for me I could make all my preparations to celebrate this most awaited moment, since a whole bloody month. I planned to have chicken Handi on the same evening. I never waited for anything like this. The sun was in the skyline and the moment was coming. I was prepared with hunger in my stomach. The last hour when I placed the order seemed unnaturally long. The clock hand was moving very slowly. Then, I heard the knock on the front door, there was a boy holding the order I placed an hour before. I took the order and unpacked it. I took the first bite. My god it was tastier than I had it last time. This time it was as delicious as it would have been when I would have taken it for the first time and I fell in love with it. I felt like heaven and I kept having it till my stomach had space, even for a single bite.

I was back in my world and I was welcomed here. It was a very warm welcome for me. I was lost in the world of vegetables and Paneer. I saw that world, may not be very closely, but I still salute the vegetarian people as they live without chicken. I accept that I am too weak to do that. I accept they are brave as they can resist themselves from having chicken. I am happy, for one of the best creations of man is available to me and I am madly in love with it. I am thankful to the chickens who give their lives to be served in my plate.

A success Journey

It’s not that I am a very good dancer, but when it comes to rock n roll on any beat I don’t miss a chance. Although the situation was much different here, I thought let’s give it a try. I always reckon dancing is one of the ways to express happiness and excitement, but I never tried to tie it with any regular formation to make it an art, I never tried to make it any better. But I had to revise my concept of dancing.

We started with the very basic steps of one of the old Hindi songs. First day itself I realized that I was not the only one who had wrong definition of dance in mind but there were other boys too. On the other hand girls were really very good in dancing. It made me envy them. I remember how I laughed on Sunny Deol for he couldn’t dance. When it was difficult even to dance, girls were asking me for suggesting new moves. I didn’t know what to say; at last I suggested one move (on which I would have laughed like anything if someone else would have done it)

Everything was going quite well until we introduced a song ‘Mauja ni Mauja’. It was one of the very fast beat songs. We were struggling to make those slow moves proper and we came to know that we will be performing this fast beat. We were taught the moves and everybody did well, except me. I had a real problem remembering the steps. I tried to follow the steps done by the girl in front of me, but it made everything worse. Soon it was noticed by the choreographer that I am not only making the wrong moves but the moves I did not come under any of the dances. All of them tried to fix my moves, but I (unintentionally) turned all of them down. At last it was decided that I will be taught separately, as it seemed impossible to make me dance for that time. At last I took a video of all the moves performed by my friend and practiced it at my home.

I remember I used to wake up early for my exams, so I did for this dance practice. I first tried to remember the moves. I practiced it to at least six to eight times. On the last day, that is on the day of competition I was in position to pass as a dancer.

Before I went to dance on the stage I felt a new energy in me. I was wearing a black and very flashy shirt as my entire dance group was wearing. While we were going to the stage I saw people staring at us as we looked very different than any of the persons in the premises. I saw each of my group mates, now they looked much like me. They wore the same clothes and same expression as I had on my face. At last we performed on the stage. For my surprise I didn’t make much mistakes and the dance was over. We won the second prize for the dance. We could be sad for losing the first place but we preferred to be happy for the second place.

We came back to the place we practiced our dance. At last the event, which we were practicing for, was over. We could have chosen to go back to our homes to have sleep after such a hectic day, but we chose to return to the place we achieved our last dance. It wasn’t the event which made it special, not even the victory we had; it was the whole week we spend together to achieve the last performance. It wasn’t the destination; it was the journey we made, to come till the accomplishment of this event. I may not remember the last performance that I did on the stage, but I can’t forget the time I spent practicing it offstage.

It is true that success is not the destination but it is the journey.