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Zeena Singh

A Knocked- for- six Pummel

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By EMN Updated: Sep 04, 2016 12:19 am
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One cold chill day in April, (for those of you, who perhaps can correlate it with the fourth month of the year) was not for me. A Pleasant springtime is what I was hopeful of, but the unanticipated stark freeze of a still lingering European winter was what hit me.

Notwithstanding, here was my moment to savour, soak , steep, saturate and be marinated in the sights ,sounds and experiences alien –whether slight or substantial.

……as for spending on clothes and garments came a big no-no! from my source of sound advice and tips, but which I had to ignore out of dire need to keep from turning numb with the wintry cold.                       All the walking and the amount of it, kept the blood pumped and running in my veins. Grateful too was I, for the remarkable pair of walking shoes which I discovered I possessed. To my utter amazement it was this 3-inch (sturdy) heeled pair that carried me unwavering, comfortably everywhere on my thirty-day sojourn.

My recounting unfolds here on one of my rambles, which usually would begin early. Fresh settings, new to the senses, have a way with building one’s craving for food is my guess. This is what struck me that day with certain fierce zeal.                                                                                                                                 A little upsetting it was, this, as I had planned on a proper sit-down lunch that day and ‘now’ was way before lunch time. The pangs kept coming on, brutal, ferocious and stern, demanding immediate action. A quick rummage in my emergency –rescue bag, yielded my favourite energy bite, a caramelized nutty bar, but I knew this wouldn’t hold long.                                                                                                                                                                                  My eyes scoured the surroundings for a sign. I picked up pace heading on to where I was going, feeling a little saddened that I now was going to miss the whole intend of a relaxed pleasure midday meal in a way-side bistro perhaps.

My tummy rumbles, now dominating and dictating, were holding sway over rationality when I spotted them. Friendly faces of two smiling ladies in the corner of the street selling eats at a single food stall. Hot dogs, served in large- sized bread rolls caught my eye.  Seeing the look in my face was all they needed to understand my plight and I was hurriedly served with extra helpings of ketchup and my favourite sauce!

Hungrily I sank my teeth into the soft roll making sure to take in the biggest bite I possibly could. I doubled up unable to control the tears rolling down my cheeks. I put down the hot dog sandwich and stuck my fingers into my ears.

It hit me hard. Sharp, Pungent, Piquant and Strong! The tastiest , tangiest, flavourful, Mustard Sauce!

Forgetting all else, I closed my eyes and ever so slowly and gently relished every mouthful ( now tiny) taking complete pleasure and delight valuing this divinely blissful and unique experience.

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By EMN Updated: Sep 04, 2016 12:19:21 am