Isn’t it amazing how we change with the circumstances…………
Till about 4 years ago fish was something I never touched. I would even make faces and complain about the “aroma” when fish was cooked at home. At Vile Parle (E) Mandai which is probably the cleanest fish market in Mumbai I would stand out with my nose hidden behind a handkerchief. At home I was lovingly dubbed as a “Kalank on Malvanis” or even an “Abnormal Saraswat” because both these are supposed to be “fishiterian” communities. Of course it was very late that I learnt that being a GSB and eating fish do not necessarily go hand in hand. Nevertheless.
Then something changed…..I moved to the hostel. My tryst with the mess food made me ache for lovely home cooked meals. Slowly I started associating the aroma of fish with home food. It was then I realized what girls mean when they say that their MIL’s kitchen does not have the same aroma as their mom’s and that’s what makes them miss their home the most. Now although I would prefer vegetarian food to fish any day I must admit I relish fish, don’t mind shopping for it and am slowly turning into a “fishetarian” person.
2 replies on “Fishy Story”
I too have been at hostel.. and seriously, earlier I used to crib over lot of things.. Now having food outside is hell! Hostel Mess is the place where u learn to value ur Mom\’s cooking 🙂
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