The Idli That's Meant to Be
There's a particular morning I remember vividly from many, many years ago where my Dad, my sister and I were sitting around the table for breakfast. Mum had prepared some steaming hot idlis 1 along with sambar and all of us were preparing to dig in.
Then my Dad casually remarked to me,
Did you know that each idli you eat has your name written on it?
Of course as a kid, I started giggling and proceeded to give this some serious thought.
Me: What do you mean "my name is on an idli"?
Dad: Well not in the physical sense that you could read it off the top. But it's there alright. The idlis on your plate were always meant to be eaten by you.
Me: So...what if I eat a different idli instead of the one on my plate?
Dad: Then it's only the other one that had your name on it. First one was meant for someone else.
Me: Hmm, but what if I eat just half of this one.
Dad: Then only that half was meant for you.
Me: tries furiously to figure out loopholes
As children often do, this conversation went on for more than I care to admit. But the point was made in my head -- some things were predetermined to be meant for me and others weren't.
This was quite possibly a silly gag my Dad was pulling on me at the time. But it's enlightening to see how I've found profound meaning from that memory much later on.
There'd be times when life was truly unfair. Even though you try your best to achieve something, it's never guaranteed that you get it. Maybe you didn't get promoted at your job even when you really deserved it. Or maybe that relationship you put a lot of energy into didn't work out. Heck, it could even be losing your only pair of nice earbuds. And while reflecting on the emotions that naturally arise during those times, a funny thought would creep into my mind -- maybe it didn't have my name on it and wasn't meant to be. And somehow, this idea would help me feel a tiny bit better to move on.
This doesn't mean to settle with what life gives you but to find comfort in the midst of sadness. To find the strength to learn from past experiences and start over with renewed vigor. To find a better idli with my name on it, if you will.
You could argue it was a poor attempt at rationalizing a difficult situation, or a roundabout way of referring to fate, which might be true. But for some reason, this logic made sense for my troubled brain.
So next time something doesn't go your way, think about the idli that's meant to be. But don't worry, maybe the next one has your name on it.