You probably experienced the same sensation—the house feels offline and the bed is already welcoming you, but the stomach rumbles like it has a life of its own. It’s at such moments that cup noodles come in, unnoticed, as if they are saviors. The truth is, I can’t even tell how many times they have rescued me.
The good old college times still linger in my memory. A single ancient electric kettle we had, somehow, continued to function even during power outages.
Around midnight, when the lights were out in the hostel except for a few, and everyone was pretending to study, a voice would just ask quietly, “Should we make noodles?” In no time,
five of us would be crammed in one room. One would bring ramen cups, another would fetch water, and one would stealthily bring masala packets from the mess.
And just like that, the entire corridor would be filled with a beautiful aroma. We would sit on the floor with our legs crossed, sucking in noodles, exchanging the latest, and saying, “From tomorrow healthy food.” (The “tomorrow” never actually could because it was a spoiler.)
Now that I am a little more mature, though only on paper—my passion for instant noodles has not ebbed at all. I still have at home a hidden supply of instant noodles and vermicelli noodles.
On some rainy evenings that catch me by surprise, and when the thought of ordering food feels like too much, I settle for a bowl of instant.
Sometimes I throw in a boiled egg, or some leftover veggies, or just whatever’s lying around. No rules, no recipes—only comfort in five minutes.
Last week, I went to Aap Ka Bazar (you know that spot where you go for “just cookies” and come out with ten items?). Anyway, I was amazed to see a complete shelf of Asian noodles—Korean spicy ramen, Thai curry ones, and, of course, desi masala versions. Just picked a few randomly and I swear; I felt as if I were in paradise. There is just nothing like hot noodles slurped in the first sip after a long day—it just lifts your mood instantly.
