Tomato is my best friend. I love tomato very much. She is a human resource professional and looks as lovely and as fresh as a tomato. We talk very sparingly and meet even more sparingly as live apart a few towns and villages. What makes her endearing is both her explosive laughter and volcanic anger
Tomato really looks like tomato. She is chubby with tomato red cheeks. She is gleaming and sun ripe. She sweats harder when it comes to her career and looks like tomato sprinkled with autumn dew . She wishes to migrate to a cooler western country to keep her tomato like texture intact.
I met tomato when she looked like a tomato but was not red like a tomato. She was not exactly like a pumpkin either. She was orange greenish at that time. Freshly out of grad school and with high hopes in her big eyes. And we know not each other in real till that point of time except through internet chat. She was impatient in her eagerness to detect me in the early morning crowd of Mumbai train station. I was too cunning to carry two steaming coffee cups and paid not any attention towards her as I was passing by. She dismissed me within a nano second.
I abruptly turned towards her then just when I was inches away from her and told her a cup of hot coffee would bring tomatoes in her cheeks. She gave a bright smile as two tomatoes appeared on her cheek. We were like two embarrassed teenagers who have been dating for the first time. But then we were neither teenagers nor dating. I was there to keep her company as she was about to catch train back home.
Tomato is a lovely girl. She is quick to love and quicker to slide in to a silent and sullen mood. She is unstoppable if she thinks she is not to be stopped. And she pouts her lips in tomato look a like disapproval when she feels vindicated.
And she is the 2nd girl who hugged me in my adult life with no reservation. When she returned back from home that’s so far away I was there to pick her again… she hugged me tight. I went dumb and numb because I am not used to hugs and kisses and public display of affection. More to the point I was not anticipating such level of trust and intimacy. I did not even return her hug for a second or two and then I merely encircled my hand around her back in a spontaneous responce.
She chirped like a sparrow all the way to bus stand where she was supposed to catch another bus. We had some good time that was running out faster. I sent her off to her destination.
After this I met tomato a few times. I even went to her place and every times I met her eyes sparkled like glistening tomato seeds. Her lips curled in to sweet smile that’s no lesser appealing than a bright red tomato. Tomato is so proud to present me to her beloved mom and dad. They are nice couple who love their children in the same way they loved their children’s friends. I really had had a very good time with them that’s not just a mutual exchange of diplomatic pleasantries but a heart to heart communication in which I need not masquerade my acid demeanor with fake decency. They made me feel I found another family in which I could seek shelter with equal authority.
Tomato some times suffers in silence if she chooses to. I was some times rude to her in enforcing my opinion and make her draw within her protective shell. By the time I detect this she is shriveled like tomato. I mean no harm to her perhaps I should have realized that tenderness is never to be taken for granted not knowing how hard we are becoming in our tenderness.
Tomato some times terrifies me with her unpredictable acts when we eat. She picks at a morsel of something, taste it like a bird and then dump the whole dish in to my plate. Now doubt I am a defender of food, respect food and took owe never to waste food. But it gives me conniptions and blows my nerves to see food doubled in my plate.
Tomato is adorably forgetful. It takes no effort less than to tear my own hair in mock frustration to make her see that she must not forget. But she ends up forgetting that I would tear my hair if she forgets.
I feel sad thinking of the day tomato goes away towards her destiny. I know every tomato is distained to become a sauce on some fat pizza base. And decorate that pizza base with happy cheese, hot pepperoni, veggie like giggles, and chicken like children. All of them get baked in life’s oven to emit delicious aroma and nutritious contribution to the world around.
I am so fortunate to have tomato in my heart. She might guillotine me if at all she comes to know that I wrote about her in my blog. But I have my own survival tricks to metamorphose her nose flaring anger in to lip twisting smile.
Hey guys… Don’t tell Tomato that… I love Tomato a lot…
Tomato really looks like tomato. She is chubby with tomato red cheeks. She is gleaming and sun ripe. She sweats harder when it comes to her career and looks like tomato sprinkled with autumn dew . She wishes to migrate to a cooler western country to keep her tomato like texture intact.
I met tomato when she looked like a tomato but was not red like a tomato. She was not exactly like a pumpkin either. She was orange greenish at that time. Freshly out of grad school and with high hopes in her big eyes. And we know not each other in real till that point of time except through internet chat. She was impatient in her eagerness to detect me in the early morning crowd of Mumbai train station. I was too cunning to carry two steaming coffee cups and paid not any attention towards her as I was passing by. She dismissed me within a nano second.
I abruptly turned towards her then just when I was inches away from her and told her a cup of hot coffee would bring tomatoes in her cheeks. She gave a bright smile as two tomatoes appeared on her cheek. We were like two embarrassed teenagers who have been dating for the first time. But then we were neither teenagers nor dating. I was there to keep her company as she was about to catch train back home.
Tomato is a lovely girl. She is quick to love and quicker to slide in to a silent and sullen mood. She is unstoppable if she thinks she is not to be stopped. And she pouts her lips in tomato look a like disapproval when she feels vindicated.
And she is the 2nd girl who hugged me in my adult life with no reservation. When she returned back from home that’s so far away I was there to pick her again… she hugged me tight. I went dumb and numb because I am not used to hugs and kisses and public display of affection. More to the point I was not anticipating such level of trust and intimacy. I did not even return her hug for a second or two and then I merely encircled my hand around her back in a spontaneous responce.
She chirped like a sparrow all the way to bus stand where she was supposed to catch another bus. We had some good time that was running out faster. I sent her off to her destination.
After this I met tomato a few times. I even went to her place and every times I met her eyes sparkled like glistening tomato seeds. Her lips curled in to sweet smile that’s no lesser appealing than a bright red tomato. Tomato is so proud to present me to her beloved mom and dad. They are nice couple who love their children in the same way they loved their children’s friends. I really had had a very good time with them that’s not just a mutual exchange of diplomatic pleasantries but a heart to heart communication in which I need not masquerade my acid demeanor with fake decency. They made me feel I found another family in which I could seek shelter with equal authority.
Tomato some times suffers in silence if she chooses to. I was some times rude to her in enforcing my opinion and make her draw within her protective shell. By the time I detect this she is shriveled like tomato. I mean no harm to her perhaps I should have realized that tenderness is never to be taken for granted not knowing how hard we are becoming in our tenderness.
Tomato some times terrifies me with her unpredictable acts when we eat. She picks at a morsel of something, taste it like a bird and then dump the whole dish in to my plate. Now doubt I am a defender of food, respect food and took owe never to waste food. But it gives me conniptions and blows my nerves to see food doubled in my plate.
Tomato is adorably forgetful. It takes no effort less than to tear my own hair in mock frustration to make her see that she must not forget. But she ends up forgetting that I would tear my hair if she forgets.
I feel sad thinking of the day tomato goes away towards her destiny. I know every tomato is distained to become a sauce on some fat pizza base. And decorate that pizza base with happy cheese, hot pepperoni, veggie like giggles, and chicken like children. All of them get baked in life’s oven to emit delicious aroma and nutritious contribution to the world around.
I am so fortunate to have tomato in my heart. She might guillotine me if at all she comes to know that I wrote about her in my blog. But I have my own survival tricks to metamorphose her nose flaring anger in to lip twisting smile.
Hey guys… Don’t tell Tomato that… I love Tomato a lot…
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