Junk food.
This was the topic my beloved Amethyst asked me to write on.
And I thought, why not. If I can write about kidnappings,
child marriage, train stations, and smuggled tortoises, then why not about a
multi-billion dollar food industry? Bring.it.on.
The term junk-food, according to Wikipedia, was coined circa
1972, and it means food that is low in nutrition and packed with saturated fats
and carbohydrates.
Food that the likes of Adam Ritchie lurve, and food that the
upper-middle-class-I’m-too-vegan-for-my-shoes- kitty-party-type DIKHNEE aunties
abhor.
We see tonnes of write-ups on the subject, most of them on
the not-so-positive note. Often along the lines of ‘city kids giving in to the
fast-food trap’ or ‘seven year old suffers cardiac arrest due to obesity’.
I know, there is a plethora of words to choose from, to describe
the trend- the picking up something for dinner while heading home ‘cause you’re
too tired to rustle up a decent nutritious meal after an exhausting day at work
trend. Unhealthy, probably being the most direct.
But. Have we stopped for a minute and thought about the
light-hearted-ness of it all? I am by no means, advocating the practice of gluttonously
devouring un-godly amounts of fat and meat and carbs at un-godly hours, of
course.. But the culture that has come
to be, with modern fast-food at the center of the table. Quite literally.
Imagine. What would your average rave party be like, with pot roast and
Yorkshire pudding and roast turkey? I, for one, imagine Jeeves standing at the
doors and butler-ing around all my teenage friends, much to their mortification.
Or your glitzy glammy all-girl sleepover, for
that matter, with ginger tea and masala dosa for dinner? They’re not completely
crazy ideas, coming to think of it, but those
affairs wouldn’t just be the same without the usual kegs of beer and
finger food and ketchup spilling on the carpet and wraps and pizza and coke and
tubs of ice cream now, would they? Or imagine, waking up in the middle of the
night and craving for a mid-night snack. What would your mind immediately think
of? Ahot cup o’ noodles, or to go through an elaborate (not to mention painful)
heating up the tava, rubbing an onion on, and ladling out dosa batter on the
griddle? At 2 am in the morning, huh? Oh, let’s not even get started on the
chutney. *Shudder*
My, my. I pride my planet on its ability to have become a
melting pot of traditions (Pardon the bluntness), cultures (pardon the
reverberation), flavours, dimensions, cheeses, herbs, and wines. *drooool* An alternate universe would’ve been trauma,
given the times we live in. Tantrum-y
teens missing their burgers and
root beer, torturous toddlers wanting their lollies, uptight yippees without
their diet cokes and Subways.. Ugh. One post apocalypse sight it would’ve been.
So folks, thank your stars and take a generous bite off that fritter, for, we
live in hard times when happiness is got with the execution of a man who
doesn’t know half of us exist, so we will have to make do with the little
pleasures life throws our way- like that oh-so-yummy mayonnaise and lettuce
sandwich, or that de-freakin’-licious vada pav you just polished off. Stop
being a pig and stop cribbing about how you’re ‘letting go of yourself’.
So work out, eat right, and pig out at regular intervals.
Remember, little pleasures. Don’t fuss about how your skin’ll have a breakout
or how you aren’t going to fit into last birthday’s jeans.
Ciao. J
