“Rasam, piping hot. 2 mins,” Mom yells from the kitchen.
Tears well up in my eyes. I feel betrayed, angry, bitter. My chest feels heavy. My head aches from having to bottle up my emotions. I should have been at Dubrovnik of King’s Landing. With my friends. And yet here I am. Sequestered indoors while they tour Croatia.
“Relax, chinna,” she says, walking in with a bowl.
The pungent smell hits me hard, makes my nostrils burn. The held-up tears come gushing down in a torrent, but end in a smile. With a jolt I realize I can smell again.
Note: Rasam is the south-Indian version of spicy-sweet soup, and often consumed for it's associated health benefits, This 100-word micro-fiction is written for the Covid Crazies 2021 Edition of the Blogging from A-Z Challenge. The entire list of 2021 posts can be accessed here.
Nice one...🙂👍
ReplyDeleteRasam to the rescue..anti climax from tears to smiles, nice twist
ReplyDeleteGood one ����
ReplyDeleteEach time a new story with lot of emotions. You are a good story teller my friend.
ReplyDeleteReminded me of my childhood.. my neighbour south Indian aunty used to get that piping hot rasam when I used to have cold.. comfort food... Rasam is an emotion for me today -AA
ReplyDeleteI admire your ability to contrive out of thin air delectable tiny stories day after day. You have invested special aroma to the spicy rasam that we mix with rice and eat daily!! I now crave for a hot cup of mulligatawny soup (seeraga and pepper rasam)
ReplyDeleteYum. Rasam
ReplyDeleteI enjoy your writing proficiency Pal...filled with interwoven threads...made me remember my best buddies Rasam & Amma!
ReplyDelete