The Day Potato Killed Me!
We were kids. My brother, our two friends (a boy and two girls) and I thought to cook something. As we weren’t allowed in the kitchen we smuggled everything from the kitchen such as spices, potatoes, tomatoes, knife and cooking oil.
We placed three bricks and lit the fire in the backyard under the berry tree. And put our earthen pot on it. First we heated the oil then put the pieces of tomatoes and potatoes including red chillies and salt in it. We let it cook for sometime. Imagine us as too many cooks spoiling the broth. Awhile later the elders in the party announced the food was ready to be eaten. We had it with bread.
Well, since I was very young so I can’t seem to recall what actually had happened. Were the potatoes not properly cooked or something else was wrong? Because later in the afternoon… I got almost close to death with stomach pain. I was rolling in my bed and my brother kept it secret from everyone else. He was scared that he’d be scolded for his misdoing. By that time he had learnt some of the prayers by heart that he started saying and got me soda and fennel seeds as well for digestion. He brushed his fingers through my hair and looked like a worried mother to me. I don’t remember how I became normal but I survived and no one in the home came to know.
We still talk about that day and laugh. I remember very little of that incident but still when I recall the severe pain I had to go through, I get goose bumps.
Childhood adventures… what else I can say and amazingly I never hated potato afterwards but I attribute my less interest in cooking to that incident😛