Why I Began Eating My Tiffin...

I know it's an unusual title. But then again, this is an unusual post.

I have a really annoying habit. Just like most of you. Many a times I forget to eat my tiffin. The reasons are always good enough. I had Prefect Duty during the breaks. I was completing my homework. Sometimes, it's actually true. The canteen just has better food to choose from.

The only one who's annoyed by all this, is my Mother of course. After all, who would take it kindly, if the food they prepared at the break of dawn, is returned half a day later, uneaten and wasted.

It's not as though I didn't care about it. I guess I just didn't care enough to actually do something about it. Until one evening, my mother snapped.

I was doing my homework, when my mother asked me whether I'd eaten what she prepared for me. "Uh, no."

Things had gotten that simplified. Just "Uh, No."

"You dont care about all the food you waste, do you?" My mother asked. It was always the same script. "One day, you'll have to face God, and be accountable for all your actions. Do you know how many people are dying because of hunger...?" I listened, like I always did.

Just then, my father tossed a newspaper page onto the table. "Take a look," he said curtly. There was an article, about a boy in India, who died after falling from a tree.

Sad, I thought.

Then I read the whole article, which was unfortunately in Malayalam, and hence took a little time. It seems the boy had climbed the tree, to get a fruit from the top. My mother shook her head when she heard me reading in my broken Malayalam.

"No! The boy was starving for food. Desperately, he decided to climb the tree and get some fruits to eat. A passerby who saw this impoverished boy, took pity on him. He decided to feed the boy, and asked the chap to get down from the tree. The boy, so overjoyed at the fact of getting one square meal, hastily tried to climb down the tree. That's when it happened. He lost his grip, and fell. His limp, malnourished body couldnt take the fall. He died.

I heard the story, and looked at my mother's face. I thought it was a joke. It had to be. After all, it sounded incredulous.

"Do you know what the mother was crying about?" She asked. "She was crying at her son's funeral, wailing about how the poor boy had to die without ever eating one proper square meal. 'Oh, why did he have such a horrible fate!' the mother wailed."

There was an uncomfortable silence after my mother finished narrating the story. I finished my homework. We had our dinner. I checked my MSN, Facebook and blog. We all went to sleep.

The next day, as my friends called me to hurry up on the way to the canteen, I stopped to take out my Tiffin box. "What happened, didnt bring any money today? I'll pay for you," one of them said.

I shook my head silently but did not reply. After all, he did not know why I had began eating my Tiffin....

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