Oh, samosa!

What do you think when you see a samosa?

'Delicious!'

'Get me some yoghurt and chutni, can't wait to delve in!'

'It's just a trillion-carlorie-packed- triangle! Never!'

'The WHAT...?!'

Put quite simply, I love samosas! They may be reeking oil, fresh out of the 'karahi'. They may be the AlBaker small triangles that come in the cheese/meat/vegetable variety, or the terribly unhygienic kind made in Pakistani corner shops. They should technically be rejected by the sensible mind. After all, fat makes us lethargic, blocks up arteries, makes us look ugly and what not!

But the simple truth s that they're just *wow*!

But just as with anything tasty [I admit, it's most always junk food!], there's a catch.

Not that it'll make me a size-jumbo person [of course it will1], but something else…uh, how do I say it? It's something related to the gut. Then there's gastric juices as well. Oh, and that foul-smelling place near the Sharjah Cricket Stadium. Get the picture?

There's a new café that's started up in my university. It's nothing fancy. In fact, the term 'café' is quite misleading! It brings the image of something like Starbucks/Costa Café/Gloria Jeans, but it's a 'government cafeteria' and you can expect only as much.

There was a lot of excitement around when it opened.
Here’s an analogy:  A LUMS student visits it. His jaw drops. Why? Two possibilities exist:
1. It’s beautiful
2. It’s better than LUMS’s [haha]
 3. 'Do places like this even EXIST on Earth?!' :O? Yeh. Sad.

And of course, no.3’s the winner!

A rainy day and we went there for a samosa. There was a burly guy frying them beneath a steel shelter in a large 'karahi' flooded with angry bubbles of hot oil. I had a bad feeling just looking at the platter of as-yet unfried samosas beside him, and then up at HIM with sleeves folded up, sweat dripping down. I usually take my own lunch since that prepared in university is hardly something a decent stomach can tolerate. But that day, I gave in to insistence against my better judgement.

We sat at a table, got talking.

A couple of minutes later, 6 plates with a samosa each arrive. We start eating without wasting time, talking all the while. And it was that talk that made me forget I'd to be careful with the triangle. That it always did what it does *ummmmm*.

No problem. We finished them up and started toward the buses as it was home time.

Unremarkable. Everything normal. Feeling different? Nah, on top of the world!

A soon as I reached home, the trouble started. Quick reaction. A minute later and I felt as if the world was spinning. It felt like cramps, pinches, hammer-blows, stuck-in-a-washing-machine feel, all at once! I doubled over with the sheer intensity of it all.

And? Made a dash for the...

           

Oh, samosa!