Shit Happens

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Once Upon a Time.”

Once upon a time, in a kingdom very close to the Arabian sea, lived a girl in her 20s. She was home after 4 years of living independently, it was time for some good ol’ home food. She was fond of cooking things that only she would love (That way she didn’t have to share it with anyone). She had a helping hand, who would keep all the necessary ingredients cut and ready. As the grand cooking began she realised how much she had missed this…last year if she had to cook some chicken she was sure to find rats and cockroaches waiting for their share right beside her on the kitchen slab. But not here. Here was home, the most cleanest place there is and where ingredients were magically present and dishes were not to be worried about.

Everything was going perfectly, a packet of chilly flakes was half poured into the preparation- “Hah! Nothing is too spicy for me, these chilly flakes are never spicy enough”. Soon enough the entire castle seemed to have teary eyes and a cough fit. The chicken was prepared and it was amazingly hot. “Of course, the spice could be tamed” thought the little Chef. An entire jar of cheese and a tin of cream later, the preparation looked amazingly mouthwatering. Note: Cream cheese and fresh cream is the secret to mouthgasming food. The girl quietly took some of it and ran to her chambers to enjoy her work of art. As soon as she took a bite of what seemed like heaven, hell broke loose on her tongue. You may never know the feeling…but I’m going to try my best and describe it to you. It’s like your tongue suddenly catches fire, while your cheek seems to be adding kerosene to it and your throat seems to be closing up on you. Immediately a bottle of cold water was emptied into her mouth in order to extinguish the fire. Once the burning sensation died, she had to admit the chicken was tasty as hell! She could put it between bread and enjoy it, or mix it with pasta…but the rebel in her just couldn’t let that happen, as that would somehow diminish the fiery taste to it. She sat there day after day eating a small portion of her heavenly hellish preparation. It was the best dish she ever made, the taste so enticing that she kept wanting to sneakily munch on it even at 3 in the morning. But it was too hot. In the end, after endless hours on the pot and swearing to God as to never adding chilly to anything, it made the girl wonder. A lesson had been learnt…every story has a moral right?

Well here was the girl’s a.k.a mine: Shit happens, you might as well enjoy what you can, while you can.

I would also like to add a little bit of genius advise my dad had given my mum a few years back. If a person is picky with their food, let them cook it. No matter how shitty it is, they will enjoy their own work of art. Always. Stands true to me and if you know me, Im the pickiest picky of them pickys. So from one picky to another, explore the joy of creating a dish, I’ve realised that it’s very accomplishing!

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