The breakfast buffet that you ended up flirting with-
(Shouldn’t do that again.)
Pizza at 3pm.
(Love, again. So much so that you need to KNOW where the mozzarella cheese came from.)
I ignore home cooked dinner in favour of emptiness.
Everyone else has seven different tastes on their plates.
At the temple, ash and sugar.
My aunt’s house. Dinner has leftovers.
(In my defence, she makes really good dhokla. And it’s been 5 hours since I ate.)
For all practical intents and purposes,
my grandmother refuses to count any eating outside her home as legitimate.
So here I am, at 10pm mixing dal-chawal with a spoon
And my grandmother standing in the kitchen asking me-
Tumne roti nahi khayi, kyun?