Thursday, September 27, 2012

The Grace of a Chilli


There was nothing special than normal days’ menu for today’s curry. They served us potatoes, as usual, with lots of water. But, unlike the other days, I ate two plates of food today. My stomach is full and I am gong to sleep contended. I am sure I will have a great night tonight.

Image from Google.com
This is what I have been trying every day: to eat to my heart’s content and have a sound sleep. If you sleep hungry, I know from my experience, you will never be able to fall asleep. The moment, you try to close your eyes, the hunger pang, from your stomach will ring an alarm bell. But owing to the “not so good” curry that I get in the hostel, I have often had had to sleep half-hungry.

In a hostel like this, you get nothing special. Whatever the mess gives you is all you are entitled. There are hotels nearby where good food is served but to eat from there you need to have enough, as many people call, Kunga Doendrup (Kuenga meaning loved by everyone, and Doendrup meaning able to achieve our purpose) in your wallet. However, hailing from a poor family, this has never been my case, even in my dreams.

The food made at home is delicious, be it sweet or sour. But my parents are far away from my reach. Those parents who reside nearby our hostels bring food and feed their sons and daughters. They (my friends) go home on the weekend and spend quality time with their parents while having good food prepared by their mother. But for a person like me, who comes from far away forests in the eastern jungle, this has never happened to me. Some weekends, I feel like waiting for someone to come and pick me up for home but that would be a madness. The God would be surprised if at all someone should pick me up for dinner. The wise thing for me is to eat what I get from here. This is what I am destined for. If I do not have more than potatoes to chew, my fate must be only for that.
   
We had holidays for three days on the account of Thimphu Tshechhu. Almost all of my friends have gone home. I was at the hostel trying to swallow, down the throat, the food I hated. Yesterday I tried to eat but after a few mouthful of food, I could not. Today my mess in-charge gave me a piece of chilli and this pulled in, voraciously, two plates of food. It was a great feast for me.

Even if you have nothing more than a piece of chilli to eat, this means a great delicious food for the poor hostel dwellers like me who are deprived of home foods. 

No comments:

Post a Comment