To the rotis that puff
I have no idea what technique I need to use to get you to puff. I have tried all and I have no consensus. But I know that you do not perform under pressure, do you puffed roti? Any time I need to prove that I know how to make rotis, there you are, lying on the gas, like a dead piece of flour.
To the rotis that puff halfway and let go
I feel you. Sometimes I don’t feel like putting more than 50% effort too. Why should I? The roti is going to get digested at the end of the day: puffed, or not puffed.
To the rotis that don’t puff at all
Problem kya hai? I gave you heat, I gave you dry flour, I made you round, I made sure you weren’t too thin…then why, why don’t you puff? What, am I not good enough for you?
To the rotis that come round
Do you know I finally found the purpose of learning geometry? Not that I didn’t enjoy math. I loved math. But I don’t think I have ever tried to find the value of x in the “real” world but I have told 2 people to use geometry to make round rotis and lo and behold…it has worked!
To the rotis that get a little burnt
I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention to you. I was too busy thinking of what post I could write on my blog that would prove how witty and hilarious I am.
To the warm rotis
You reminded me of home when I ate you, for the first time in 2 months, in a foreign land, grappling with coursework, classmates and a foreign palate.
To the ghee-waali rotis
Bachpan mein ghee roti used to mean someone important is coming to the house. You remind me of times when the table in my house was filled with people and the most important question used to be: who will eat ghee-waali and who will eat bina-ghee waali roti.
To the non-conformist roti
The tedhi-medhi roti, the moti-patli roti, the kachi-pakki roti…good for you to not conform. Why should only round, puffed rotis be eaten? What is wrong with rotis that look like a map or are so hard they break into pieces? You do you.
To the haath waali roti
Jo sirf mummy can make. That once puffed, still has her hand and finger prints on it. You’re no different, yet you taste like a different species of “Indian bread.”
To the humble roti
When all else failed, when the stomach protested, when it growled in hunger, you roti, always came through.
This post is a part of Blogchatter Half Marathon.
tales of Suchita 
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