Moong Dal as a metaphor

When did it get so tasty

I have never written anything too romantic directly for you partly because I don’t think you’re the kind who would appreciate it too much (or even read it for that matter) and partly because I know you wouldn’t write for me. It bothers me sometimes, but it is an unfair expectation. A crucial part of writing for someone is the response. The response could be lengthy and laid beautifully words which is how I would like it but I think you would respond to it by saying a thank you, giving a hug or buying me soup. But I realized today that I don’t need it to come back with the same flair or in the same vigor. Today I am writing to you because I must tell you how much I truly enjoyed eating moong masur dal with chawal with you. It is really silly but I have grown up eating moong masur dal five times a week. I hate moong masur dal so much now that I barely touch it at home and I am the flag-bearer of the boycott moong masur dal movement. It is such a boring dish and eating it five times a week disaffected me in ways that I cannot even begin to explain.

Maybe the masur dal we ate today was tastier than the one made at home but maybe it was you.
I looked at our simple plates — dal chawal in the perfect ratio of 1.5:1, onion on the side, some papad. I squeezed a little bit of lemon hoping it would become more bearable for you. After all, I subject you to this monstrosity that is moong masur dal. I don’t how you felt eating that excuse of a dal but I felt like I was blaming the dal when it was just the lack of you. Sitting in front of you, I became brilliantly aware of the abundance in my life. Maybe everything I am so bitter about in life will slowly fade away if I have your company. I don’t want you to think you’re special but I want you to know that every little thing becomes special when I add you in it.

Maybe I should try eating lauki with you. If you manage to make that bearable, maybe both of us can be healthy for a long time to come.

I see a new meaning of love every day. Doing already fun things, like eating pizza and pasta are fun with everyone but eating moong masur dal is not fun with anyone. And maybe in the larger scheme of things it means that I may be able to find joy in the tougher phases of life if you are sitting on the other side of the table but this moong masur dal is a bit of a stupid example but nonetheless extrapolatable (?? what).

Bon Appetit to me and to you as we relish the most extravagant meals and the most boring meals because there is very little difference between the two when you are on the other side of the table.