In the pursuit of pizza, discovering people.

 

I can only tell stories. That doesn’t sound like a great opening to a blog, right? Especially when you are looking at a giant called Happiness. Well, I can’t do much about it because I can only tell stories. Stories to me are happiness. 

What kind of stories you will ask? Love stories? Horror stories? Thrilling stories? Adventurous stories? A little bit of everything, I would say. Like the Mumbai bhelpuri, tangy, spicy, sweet, and fulfilling. Again an old comparison. But what to do? That is what I’m made up of. Stories and food. Stories of people around me. I’m no unique individual. I’m a fragment of my mother, my father, my son, my husband, my friends, and even my milkman and house-help. Sometimes, I’m also like the rickshaw driver, in whose vehicle I commute every day to work. You must be finding it very funny. But many times, I’m like my pressure cooker and mixer grinder, too. I start abruptly whistling, when the there is too much pressure inside me. When I find too many ideas crowding my mind, I start mixing and grinding it all into a pulp, like I’m doing it now. While I’m a combination of the surrounding people, I’m also a mass of the objects next to me. 

So coming back to stories. Sorry for the walk around the bush. It was a warmup to listen to my long story cut short just for you. 

The other day, I was chatting with an old friend who resides in the States. Let’s call her Anita. Anita and I have been friends for the past six years. We have never met in person, but now Anita is not only my friend but a thorough professional who helps me with the marketing of my book. More details on that later. I texted Anita confirming an event for a library and asked her if I could share the details of the workshop with my friends in India. Instantly, Surabhi replied, ‘Yes, please do. We need more of pizza.’

My jaw dropped. Before I could take in the message fully, she deleted it and wrote a new one. ‘We need more of people.’

Her autocorrect, the smart guy, had turned people to pizza. I typed back. ‘You are right, friend, we need more of pizza in our life than people.’ This was two days ago, and Anita hasn’t replied to the message. Maybe she is mulling over my thought of the Day- We need more of pizza over people.

Now that wasn’t any quote but a part of junk that lies unattended to in some obscure corner of my mind. If you think it is gold, take it. For I have such mines which keep exploding every day. It is only for the sake of global peace that I don’t share them openly. 

Okay, Anita may or may not have responded, but my mind was determined to make a whole blog out of it. Pizza or people, what is the need for the hour? So, when the opportunity to write on the Pursuit of Happiness came bouncing my way, I grabbed it by its neck. Don’t worry, I won’t break its spine, but I will definitely twirl it around and explore. What makes us more happy- a pizza or a bunch of people?

If you asked me this before I met a special individual, it would have been pizza. My ultimate source of happiness is indulging in a double crust, veggies loaded pizza.

Main aur mera pizza aksar ye baatein karte hai...

I have a silsila of stories to tell you about the love of my life, the pizza. In fact, the first book I contributed to is also called La Javvaab Pizza, which is a collection of short stories fusing the characteristics of pizza ingredients into human behavior. Pizza for me is that rabbit hole into which Alice falls accidentally to discover a dystopian world. I fall into this pit deliberately, to escape from the drudgery of my utopian world. 

While having my pizza, I can’t bear to have two or for that matter n number of eyes hovering over me. I hate mouths that are blabbering about their aches and agonies when I’m about to dig into the cheesy crust. I prefer to have my pizza in silence and solitude. It is an intimate affair of all my senses involved in the pursuit of pizza. My pizza is non-judgmental and giving. The veggies are soft on me and the ketchup doesn’t burn my insides. I pick out the mushrooms and savour them separately. Tiny pieces of vibrant joy. Before I chomp down the bread, I take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the delicacy. Yellow, green, and red bursts of colours on a creamy white palette. Asymmetrically chopped vegetables on a perfect round, flat bread. The crust is solid and encompasses various ingredients with peculiar flavors, making it one big celebration. 

Main aur mera pizza aksar ye baatien karte hai...

Till the June 2024, this was my equation with pizza. Something changed after one rainy afternoon. I met Vidya. Vidya is a writer friend whom I met on an online writing platform during the challenging Covid times. While chatting on Whatsapp, we realized that as kids, Vidya and I, we both went to rival schools in Borivali. Though Vidya stays in the US currently, her parents stay very close to my parents’ house. We hit off instantly. After the pandemic, I did meet Vidya in person two to three times. Every time we met, we shared a chunk of our lives with each other. To be continued in the next episode, remained our philosophy.

June 2024, Vidya was returning to the US after her short India trip. Last day of her stay. We managed to meet despite our hectic schedules. In our moments of restlessness, we found an hour of quietude. There was a whirl of feverish activity around us, but somehow we were in our own bubble. 

We laughed. We cried. We held on to each other’s hands. Not letting go, even while sipping our coffee. Without deciding, we were determined to complete those episodes we had left incomplete during our last visits. The show had to go on. I needed to know more about Vidya. She, too, was possibly eager and curious to catch up on the scattered pieces of my life. 

Suddenly, the conversation that had risen like a storm settled. Peace permeated me. The bubble felt home to me. A small home I had built with Vidya. Sounds weird? Can a home only be built with family? To remind you again, I’m not your regular writer who will give you sane advice. I’m a little teda and meda as well. My mind is in the shape of Kurkure chips. Not opening another packet now. Coming back to Vidya.

After meeting Vidya and Anita and many more such kind souls, I realized people too aren’t bad and the combination of a terrific pizza and good people is all we need in the pursuit of happiness. What say, you amazing people reading my blog? Is it pizza or people or both for you?

Difficult to decide? Let’s meet over a pizza date to simplify the same.