Once an angel granted me a wish.
I was offed a
A kingdom of wisdom and A palace of gold
And all the fancies my mind can hold?”
I,
With empty stomach and
blowing nose.
just begged for a simple desire.
KILL THE PERSON WHO DECIDES MY MESS MENU.
The angel, anxiously staring at me, ask it’s reason politely.
Taking off my shirt, I stood over a table and screamed…
Hell yeah! I have to deal with the worst food combination…
A combination, more painful to stand than any beiber song.
Idli with daal, egg without salt, rice and salty water(they call it sambar) and so..on!
I may seem to act terrible, mean and vicious…
But cakes without icing breaks my heart.
Ice cold samosa, and hot juices catalyze my anger.
Burger with a microscopic level potato inside makes me cry and scream.
It feels like the butter chicken and biryani are just in my dream..
The worlds knows that a love break up hurts..
But the pain of reaching the mess at 2:31 PM, a minute after it officially closes is unbearable, intolerable and unspeakable.…
I am happy to die a virgin, happy to live without a chick but I can’t stand a glass of milk without sugar…
Oh sorry! Sugar is available but with flies sitting over it 
I aspire and i die for the yummy flesh over the chicken, Never ceasing to amuse.
I love it’s funny wrinkles
And the crunch way it chews.
But Until then:
Morning : Maggie,
afternoon: Maggie,
Evening: Maggie,
Night: Maggie
Dreams: Maggie
Next morning: Maggie
Next afternoon: Maggie
.
.
.
Maggie forever.
'Campus Writing' 