THE MYSTERYOF THE MONTHLY BLACK-OUT!

Any conscientious youngster who just set foot into the work world and started earning would like to think for a moment on what happened to the ‘hard-earned’ salary, 30 days after its receipt. The girl in our story let’s say Ms.R (for you see the girl is very shy to disclose her name) had similar intentions when she saw her salary account almost empty at the end of the month. Let’s just say this particular musing failed to make its mark upon her mind. In the next few days her mother called her up. The conversation went this way:

Mother: Hey I was wondering if you could book tickets for our train journey to Visakhapatnam.

Ms.R: (uh oh!) Uh? Train Tickets?... Um.. How much would that cost?

Mother: WHAT?! You exhausted all the money in the account??

Ms.R: (How on earth is she so quick on the uptake?) Not all the money.. Not yet!

Needless to say, what happened in the next hour over the telephone conversation was strong enough to make Ms.R sit in one place and focus. What happened last month? Why did she have to bear that excruciating conversation with her mother on her poor thriftiness with money? Among million other miserable thoughts she had at the moment, she was wondering whether she will ever grow up in her parents eyes. Will there be a day when they will think she can handle things in a responsible manner?! The thought scared her for some reason she could not comprehend. So she decided that this month she will monitor all the ‘money flow’ very strictly. Before she sprung into action, she tried to think of what happened to all the money last month. The whole month was blacked out in her memory. She could remember a lot of money in her purse being given away. The receivers’ face seemed to be a blur. She could not remember no matter how hard she tried to. This retrospection however, soon lost its intensity and she was back to her life. However, she carried a promise that she would be observant this time about money.

On another Monday evening when she came back home, she felt a void within her that seemed to sap all her energy. Her eyes refused to see, ears refused to hear, nose refused to breathe. She could feel an invisible hand holding her rib. She was surrounded by a sense of urgency. She had to do something soon. She had to live. She searched her house for something that might help her. She saw a lot of greens, reds and browns in the vegetable tray. COOK NOW?! ARE YOU KIDDING? IT’LL TAKE FOREVER!!

She threw open her doors and ran as fast as she could with all the life within her getting drained. She ran and ran finally found the place where her nose finally agreed to breathe. Then she found something in the air that made her glide as though there were no force that would offer her more happiness than that in the whole wide world. She found herself mouthing the words: “One… One…. One…. One Pani Puri!”

Ten minutes later after the void stopped troubling her, she groaned because now she could remember the receivers. There were atleast ten such pani puri walahs, sometimes the snacks seller in the movie theatres, sometimes this void would accept only strong chocolate truffle or only pizzas or pastas and nothing else for its abatement.

She crumbled down with the realisation of what she had become.

An insufferable FAST FOOD-AHOLIC!!

She remembered with a slow pain taking over her head, all the instances where her hand willingly gave away money to these vendors without even thinking how much it was giving away. She hit herself on the head. How can the hand think?! She should have thought carefully before giving away.

She thought helplessly as to how she was going to stop this the following month. The mind seemed to go round and round, like a dog trying to catch its tail but seemed to find no solution. She wasn’t sure whether she could imagine a life without pani puris, chocolate truffles, rich icecreams, pizzas and pastas. After this blunt realisation, her mind went back on its normal routine.

The next day, it was 4 30 PM. She was back from the plant and a familiar hand caught hold of her rib and her trembling hands caught hold of her purse. She groaned..... This was going to be a tough month...

Since the author has unfound experience in this addiction, she recommends ‘Mother-cooked-food’ as medicine. To others who have a spouse close by, spouse-cooked-food is also a close medicine though it may not be as reliable as the former medicine.