How I Found Love Again

It was a small restaurant on a very small corner of an even smaller school in a big big city. I pulled a chair and sat down; Mubarak sat in the opposite seat. A lot of things were going through my mind at that time, one of which was why Mubarak insisted we ate there.

“Would you like me to take your order now?”, the waitress asked.

She was a short Chinese girl, and another person could have easily mistaken her for someone not more than 16. But I wasn’t just anyone. I gave her one look and knew she was at least 22. Her body was slim, not necessarily hot. She had a smile that even the most contentious person wont deny the cuteness. She was indeed pretty. I think I’ve found our reason for being here.

I asked Mubarak what he was having; I tweaked a few things and ordered something similar. She was about to leave when she turned and asked,

“Would you like our homemade mushroom soup?”

For as long as I remember, I hated soups.

It started on my 7th birthday. My mom was taking everyone to a Chinese restaurant. Ever since she came back from Beijing earlier that year, my mom had been obsessed with everything Chinese. In fact on that day I was dressed up in light Grey Chinese clothes and the most comfortable size 4 black martial arts shoes. I felt like a miniature Jackie Chan dipped in chocolate syrup. It was a good feeling.

I’d never seen so much variety of food in my life. Everyone looked happy; although I wasn’t sure if it was because of my birthday or the food, but I didn’t care.

I don’t really remember much from that day. But I remember two things very clearly.

There was the beef that was brought to the table with a flame blazing on top of it. It scared the hell out of me. But I remember it because it was probably the most incomprehensible thing my 7 year old brain had to make sense of.

The second was the white mushroom soup. It was cream, not white; nonetheless, at that time, I had never seen a soup that wasn’t red, some shade of yellow or in some rare instances green. But it wasn’t the color I remember, it was the taste. When I put it in my mouth, it was the weirdest thing ever my taste buds had to deal with in their 7 years of existence. It wasn’t exactly painful, but I burst out crying. I didn’t like it, and that was the bottom line.

The soup was served. I looked at it. White, cream, call it whatever you want. I looked across the table at Mubarak. Why in the world did I let this guy order soup for me?

I took the spoon and dipped in the soup. It was thicker than I imagined it would be. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. My mouth began to open slowly as the spoon left the bowl.

The spoon moved towards my mouth.

I waited.

One second.

Two seconds

Three…. It was in.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. I could hear drums beating in my ears and my taste buds dancing to the rhythm. My body was glowing, and even though I didn’t see it, I could feel it. All my senses were at their most active… Everything suddenly made sense.

Then I realized I was still holding my breath.

I let go and opened my eyes.

Life is funny; One moment you hate something, and a spoon later you realize that it’s the best thing in the world.


7 Responses to “How I Found Love Again”

  1. 1 Luis June 2, 2008 at 3:46 am

    Is funny how the smallest things in life change in an unexpected magical moment. I had the same experience with seafood and now I try to eat at least twice a week. I’m glad you found love again.

  2. 2 spyda June 2, 2008 at 6:03 am

    Wow thats nice. Thanks 🙂

  3. 3 RealT June 2, 2008 at 6:12 am

    Duude… WOooW. U know similar thing happend to me this week.

  4. 4 spyda June 2, 2008 at 6:20 am

    Haba dai. Tell me about it…

  5. 5 umar jal June 2, 2008 at 7:34 am

    dude i hope it will happend to me dis week….

  6. 6 Hanny_Honey June 3, 2008 at 12:51 am

    Hopefully… we i also get 2 hav dsem experience soonest!!

  7. 7 spyda June 3, 2008 at 4:24 am

    Hopefully everyone gets to experience fallin’ in love all over 😉

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