Rains and her

He came home furious, he hated rains, especially in Delhi the roads were muddy and jammed, electricity had the mood swings of a Cancerian, and there were too many people on the road trying to get drenched in the rain.
“Why would anyone voluntarily want to spoil his or her clothes in a downpour of polluted water?” he said pouring a cup of coffee. He looked up to find her dripping from head to toe smiling sheepishly at him. He shook his head and sat down with his coffee.
She changed into clean pajamas and sat beside him, snuggling her neck through the hook of his arm. She was smelling of rainwater and coffee, and that’s when he remembered why he loved the rains.

#rain #love

Fat Potato

This is the story of Fat Potato…well kind of.
Potato inspirations
Once upon a time, there was a fat potato, who was thin as a stick, that’s what they’d call her back then,
“Oi Celery… careful or the wind will take you with it!”
She hated it but she ignored it.
Her mama always told her she was special, so she waited for her special day to come. Everyday, even after a woman took her mother with her, she waited. The grocer Jean was kind of fond of her so he never threw her away, even though nobody picked her for their shopping cart.
Potato days are not very long you know, one human hour is two potato days, the woman took her mother 48 days back and if she remembered correctly Jean had got her here from the farm around 96 days back.
They would pick her, examine her like doctors examine patients as if she were some kind of specimen or anorexia patient and then leave her with a sigh making “tut tut” sounds with their tongues as they picked other big fat round potatoes for their stews and stuffings.
She always hoped someone would toss her in the basket and say something nice about her but no, it was always “what a poor little potato, who would buy that?” or “Hey Jean,this some special kid of yours? throw it away before it gets mouldy and spoils the other vegetables.” but he never did, good ol’ Jean.
“97…98…99…100!” Fat potato just realised it had been a hundred days since she was at Jean’s “I wonder how long is he going to put up with me” she thought “why couldn’t I be fat like others, god should’ve just made me a celery”
Just then she some one picked her up, it was a young girl with a pimple speckled face…her eyes widened at first Fat Potato thought it was disgust but she realised it was happiness as the sun shone in the round discs of her brown eyes.
“Oh you’re perfect!” she said, she picked a couple of more potatoes, Paid Jean and went away humming happily to herself. Leaving a surprised Jean staring after her
Fat Potato became the first French Fry and all potatoes who wanted to be french fries had to be cut into Fat Potato’s shape, but no one was quite as perfect as Fat Potato.