Why I Cook What I Cook?

Year 1999. I was 24. My waist size was 28".

 
Yes, my colleagues of that time still remember me having the leanest waist among them. (See pic) Shopping was cheap for me and I always got size 28" at half price as those were not sold many.

I had just gone to Dubai for work. I was excited.

Before that, I worked in Pune for 3.5 years. I loved the food there. I had discovered that I am a big foodie. But Hips did lie!

I stayed in Sharjah. I was given a shared bachelor accommodation. My roommates were amazing. None of them cooked except one.

Everyday, we used to go together to one of those two restaurants. Radio and Mustaqbal. The restaurants were at a walkable distance, cheap and convenient.

Every day we used to have different dishes. Later I felt that they all tasted the same. I thought they take a lot of time to cook. But I found out that they keep basic stuff ready all the time, just assemble and serve.

Despite eating enough, my waistline was the same. Was it good metabolism or my body didn't absorb food?

 
When the food wasn't tasting good anymore, I copied my friend. He had a great idea. He had food with a can of Coke! Any food will taste better when you have a can of Coke along with it. Coke was cheap there. Cheaper than food.

Often I ate hot dogs and sausages. The mustard sauce in it was intoxicating. Later I gave them up completely after I heard that they are made with the intestine of animals.

 
Within one year, I was bored with the food to death. I didn't want to eat at all. I often fell sick. My anger on food started showing on my colleagues and customers.

 
All this while I didn't know what was happening to me but slowly I was retracting from social life. My boss called me a loner.

 
Certain things remain etched in your memory, don't they?

 
One of my roommates wasn't lazy. He knew cooking. No matter what time he returned from the office, he would take bath, cook his food, and eat. I could see that he was enjoying his life.

"Dal Bhat Khao, Prabhu ke Gunn Gao" was his Takiya Kalam (Catchphrase)

I wanted to be like him. When he prepared Punjabi style Aloo Paratha and shared half with me, I wanted to have full. They were tasty.

I asked him for a favor. To share the kitchen and his knowhow. He joyfully agreed.

 
Soon I bought a can of oil, a packet of flour, some vegetables. I was at it. My first Chapati resembled an unnamed union territory. But it was tasty.

Slowly my waistline increased to 32. I was saved from embarrassment. I could say that the food was entering my system and my system was accepting it willingly.