319. The Abusive Relationship I’m In: Curry And Me

When I got home from class yesterday, it was close to 3P.M., and I hadn’t had my lunch. Suppose I should have had it before I left for home, but I thought that I’ll visit the Chinese shop near my house for a simple plate of fried noodles.

Wonder upon wonders, the shop was closed. Hungry, I went home and found out that my brother was having lunch at the nearby Indian shop. No longer in the mood to drive out, I called him and asked him to bring home some rice with curry chicken.

It was everything I dreamed it would be. The salty, savory taste of the curry seeped into the rice, and it was fragrant and rich and satisfying. When I went to the gym some hours later, I even had the energy to run for 30 minutes.

(today the treadmill; tomorrow THE WORLD!)

It was a good day. I had dinner at home and retired to bed early, before midnight, because I intended to wake up at 7.30A.M. to do the essential breakfast-cooking and preparations for the new day at work.

I woke up at 7.30A.M. with a terrible pain in my stomach; a pain which persisted for the better parts of the day.

I was running off to use the toilet every half hour or so. And there was no helping the pain: no amount of fluids being flushed down my digestive tract or toast ingested or yoga therapy could soothe the pain. I’ll just be working on a piece of copy at my desk when the pain would just hit all of a sudden, and the next moment I’m already bent over with my hands pressed into my belly.

Why do you do this to me, curry? Why?

(why do the things we love hurt us the most? Why?)

This has happened before. The Chinese shop I was intending to go for fried noodles? They serve chicken curry too, but I’ve stopped eating the ones they sell for about 2 years now. Because every time I eat it, I invariably find myself waking up at 4A.M. with a pain in my guts like a demonic possession and bile in my throat like the time I watched Chucky for the first time.

(not that I know what an actual demonic possession feels like. I imagine it must be pretty close on the misery scale)

So now it seems that in the absence of the strong antagonist, my stomach has weakened and is now vulnerable to even the chicken curry from the Indian shop, where I have eaten happily and without problems hitherto (Except that time a couple of months ago when it left me bedridden). I am, however, not as eager to toughen up my stomach as I am with my character on Skyrim, and I do not think that agony is a fair price to pay in order to be able eat a very specific type of food.

And so, with a sigh, I now cross another item off the list of food that I can eat without feeling like I’m dying.

On the bright side, I can still have bacon.


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