Cut Off : The words I associate with it are solitude, isolation and lonesome. It creates a very vivid picture in my mind of the poem – Solitary reaper – where the lady is bent down, sickle in hand, in the middle of the field. But why do I associate these words with such doleful scenes?
Attaching a positive or negative connotation to a word has always intrigued me. Just like someone once asked, “Why can’t we eat omelette for lunch? Why is it always a ‘breakfast’ item?”
So why do the words ‘Cut Off’ evoke the emotions of sadness? Why does it remind you of a friend you’ve lost contact with, an ex-boyfriend you have chosen to stay away from or a brother you’ve argued with?
In this post, I want to break away from the conventional. I write about a time when I am cut-off from the world – willingly and happily. It is that time when I am feasting on some ghee-dripping aloo parathas or a cheesy thin-crust pizza or slowly biting into a piece of red velvet cupcake.
Yes, I am completely cut off from the world outside and delightfully so. When you bite through a creamy soft layer of chocolate icing and cherish the flavours of the tiniest sprinklers on your palette, you know you are cut off from the world.
At that point of time, you don’t need a friend to share in your happiness. Neither do you need them to give you a pep-talk to finish it. You don’t even need them to just be there.
It’s a bowl of Schezhwan fried rice, a mouth-watering doughnut, a corn-and-peas sub, a greek salad, a plate of nachos with liquid cheese and salsa and YOU. Place your hand on your heart and be honest, wouldn’t you just want to be lost in the experience of tasting a scrumptious meal or would you worry that you don’t have a friend to experience it with you?
For a foodie like me, food is also a getaway from stress. It is the perfect solution to a million problems – from best friend quarrels to boyfriend troubles to workplace drama and household tiffs. It is undoubtedly the solution when you are ‘cut off’.
The smell of hot, crisp dosas, the juicy flavours of a fruit salad or a tub of choco-chip ice cream can make you lose track of the world around you, if you relish each spoon and each bite. If you take in the aroma, hear the crunch, appreciate the colours and gradually let the flavours play in your mouth, it’s bliss.
It could be in a nice coffee shop, a beach side resort, a posh restaurant or a lavish hotel. It could be beneath your cosy blanket or in your college canteen. It could be in the roadside tea stall or at the paani-puri cart near your house. It could be anywhere and at anytime.
It is still a realm of solitude where it’s just you and no one else. But you have your faithful pomodoro pasta or just a good cup of cappuccino to lend you some company. At that time, you enjoy not just your meal, but also your solitude. Well, you enjoy your solitude because of your meal.
So, the last time I was “Cut Off”, was when the layers of shiny, smooth sugar from the Original Glaze Krispy Kreme doughnut was in my mouth.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Cut Off.”