Breakfast
I have had many long-associated memories with breakfast. Some call this an important meal of the day. I remember my chemistry teacher saying it literally means to break your fast since the dinner you had last night. Ideally if one had his dinner at 8 pm and breakfast at 8 am it’s a 12-hour gap. It does make up a point considering the fact we have our lunch at 1:30 pm this is just 5 odd hours of a gap and then between lunch and dinner you have a mere 6-hour gap. Well, brushing aside the nutritional part aspect of it. I have many memories associated with it. In my primary school, I would eat my breakfast at recess at 10 am and be home back by lunch and call it a day. I really miss those days. It seemed as if the world paused after 1:30 pm all there was to do is to have your lunch and nap or watch the DD channel. But most significant memories are associated with my SSBJ days. In my seven-year stay at school, I think I never missed eating breakfast. The morning PT (Physical Training) would be excruciating and in case you miss your breakfast in school you are in for having a tough time, all you can do now is wait for lunch. If you are missing your breakfast in school, it was usually a punishment. The clockwork of mess menu at school was amazing. I still wonder how something repetitive could still be so exciting. The Sunday Dosas to cold coffees, the more watery tea, hard idlies and delicious vadas, poories with limited chole, 5 bread slices with a cutlet and a dollop of butter and jam, keeping a bread or two with the milk and relishing it without dipping it in your tumbler so as to adhere to table manners for the heck of it, still fresh in my mind. The table etiquettes, the handkerchief on your lap, the fork on the left, knife on right, never eating Poha with hands, asking the guy next to you to pass the salt just to eat all your food in 10 mins! The appetite each of us had in school was unbelievable. I swear if we were asked to attack in a crucial battle in lieu of some extra breakfast, we would win it hands down. I think its hunger that perpetuates human lives. No matter how dignified you are, no matter what background you had, you don’t raise your hand and yell “Uncle, uncle” to the waiter passing by you wouldn’t get the extra poori, dosa or whatever he had. It reminded me of Oliver Twist, but only while in mess and that too because it was designed for it. The Sainik School mess was to feed your need and not greed. The momentary famished army of Sainik School boys is an untapped physical force, sad there is no way one can tap it.
After school life, breakfast at home was usually routine and was sumptuous. The appetite waned. Back in engineering hostel, however, skipping it on a hurry or having it since you paid for it defined my morning breakfasts. College breakfast with friends around in cafeteria was another level. I could claim my circle was the headquarters of the happenings in college. The chai and samosa, dosas, anything with the gossip and light heart joke at other expense is a treasure. The taste wouldn’t matter if all sat together and rant out our concerns. The constant laughter, repartee and rants were part of my breakfast now, anything less was a miss. These breakfasts went from scrumptious to paltry depending on the phase of the month, as anticipated month-end breakfasts were to just get us something cheap to keep the tummy happy till lunchtime. The act of getting up at 11 am and laze on the bed to make it fresh out of the shower for lunch was another strategy. This had nothing to do with money, it was just more convenient. As I joined for masters in Manipal, the same story continued albeit, I was more regularly eating it. The masala dosa, to Mysore masala dosa, Chole bhatore were more common. Idli was very rare. This was the first time I would eat breakfast twice, at 8 am and 11 am and have light lunch. My breakfasts had lesser friends around me, but often I would find someone at the canteen to and join them, the discussions from placement to career and hard course works just like my old college, but a bit mature. IISc canteen was really pocket-friendly and right next to the department, grim workplace but a great breakfast scene made my day at IISc.
Later my breakfast got associated with a large buffet at Marriott. As a vegetarian who frequently travelled to Asia, they were my life saviours. The fruits, toast, milk porridge, occasionally noodles, calm morning to myself, occasionally with colleagues, looking forward to the day, plans for the weekend, all of it was now my part of breakfast. The buffet at these hotels was incredible, the ever-enthusiastic staff to make anything for you to eat. One French lady, I remember was making this excellent coffee for me every morning, the staff of the hotel were like my family members, staying for months, they would anticipate what I need. The satisfaction of having this breakfast and eat almost everything at your will is most rewarding. The Swiss gentleman at one hotel knew I was vegetarian and used to pack me fruits for my lunch when I was in China. I love litchis, some morning I would find it and someday I won’t. One day I asked the Chinese lady who looked like was managing the restaurant's menu to guide me to the nearest supermarket so I can buy myself some litchis. She insisted that she would make sure I have it on the menu every day and was kind enough to send me some to my room every evening as well. Indeed, the stay is expensive, but the hotel staff went the extra mile to make me feel comfortable.
Even back in India Marriott breakfast buffet is great. I developed a sudden taste for idlis. I remember my roommates making this bike ride to a cart, where he made amazing Thatte idlis, the business park where I worked had amazing sambhar, I would say it was a soul-soothing, any Udupi hotel near my room is where I would park myself as soon as I brushed my teeth and eat staring the Bengaluru traffic, this was one of many perks of working 2–11 pm shift. This shift gave me more introspective breakfasts. My brief visit to Indore rekindled my desire for poha. The Indore poha cart was another place of solace. It's amusing how travel changes dietary habits. The quintessential French breakfast of croissant and Orange juice made my crave for fruit juice in the morning. The Asian places, made me crave for warm food. Indore made me eat poha, Pathankot’s Aloo paranthas, Bhuj Dhoklas, Mumbai vada pav, eventually are part of my breakfast.
The pandemic made me stick with cereals for a while, my inertness to cook and late-night binging of Netflix make me succumb to this. There is everything that amazes me, but the time when I left a breakfast corn flakes cereal box, open and see no ants in it made me stop eating it gradually. I still have high regards for folks eating rice bhaat, for breakfast. I can’t swallow a morsel of cooked rice in the morning but crave for it during dinner. This is one meal of the day but has been part of so many memories.
