The Tummy Returns

By Paarth Gupta

Grrrrrowwlllllll!!!! Was it a dog? Was it a lion? No, it was my stomach… It was time for the “Daily International Hunger Olympic Games”. After slogging the entire day, and meeting deadlines, which pushed me down harder than gravity itself, I was finally done. My stomach gave away the secret. I was ravenous!

However my stomach refused to eat ‘DAL CHAWAL’. It needed something tasty. My stomach was in control of my body. It was the dictator. I rummaged through the pantry, swirling at the speed of light, eating everything delicious I came across. My stomach still needed to feast and I set my eyes on the goal. The one and only, ‘MAGGI’.

The only barrier I faced was the fact that I didn’t how to know prepare Maggi. However, I knew it would only take two minutes to cook the delight. I glanced at the instructions and they looked like the Golden Words spoken by ‘Nestle’. Without further ado, I began rustling up. All I needed was H2O, a pan, a spoon and a packet of Maggi. I boiled the water in the pan and emptied the contents of the packet and stirred it. It took more than two minutes. (Warning: Never believe advertisements, blindly.)

Nevertheless, the time spent was totally worth it. It was now time to decorate my plate. A portion of the plate was dressed with salad, another portion was decorated with chips and the rest had… You guessed it, ‘Maggi’. I placed my plate on the table like a true gentlemen and continued wrapping myself with a napkin, when the tragedy struck.

I was paid a visit by an unwanted guest who didn’t bother to ring the doorbell. It turned out that my guest was a big fan of my cooking. He decided to drop in (Literally). Any guesses on who the guest was? It was none other than the ‘Mosquenger’ (My blood relative). He was digging in and looked like a big time foodie. Little did he know that he had dug his own grave. The masalas were too much for him to handle and breathe his last right in the centre of my dish.

I didn’t know whether, I should have wept or celebrated. Any which ways I was devastated. I scrapped out the remains of the mosquito and decided to donate my precious Maggi to my favourite dog in the locality, Witty. She was delighted to gobble down the Maggi. “One child’s trash is another dog’s treasure.”

As for me, I had to settle with Indian instead of Chinese. I was offered some mouth-watering Indian Maggi (Seviyan). I had no grudges, as it was sweet. Nonetheless, the protagonist never gives up. The next day, I was back in the kitchen with another packet of Maggi and the only thought in my mind was, “The Tummy Returns”.

By Paarth Gupta