A ladle of soup and memories
More memories than tomato soup
It’s not just soup, it is the epitome of bonding.
I am sick with a cold and throat pain, and all I can think about is eating/drinking 10₹ soup, which is 15₹ now.
Recession.
That little cup of very well-priced soup got me through exam nervousness, new friendship awkwardness, making mutual friends meet, and even a reason to tell her mom to justify our meeting for long hours.
Drinking that soup wasn’t something you did alone.
Drinking soup is something you never do alone.
The Last Supper is the best example of this. Drinking soup together was a time to bond, and something a broke college student didn’t have to worry about because of the price.
That cup held more than hot soup. As we sat on the small steel seat at Namma Bakery, the hot soup would kill the ice.
The price of the soup is how I got people to drink it.
People wondered how they could buy a 10rs soup, in Bangalore too. That soup, made me get closer to people. No one would say no to it, how could they, it was a 10₹ soup.
Until they finished that cup of well-priced soup, I could hold the conversation and ask them meaningful deep questions about their life and meaningless silly questions about their vehicle.
The soup was a vehicle for meaningful conversations.
That soup was the end to good days and shitty days.
That soup stopped time because it distracted me from my guilt and endless reasons to rationalize doing something productive to move forward in life.
That cup of tomato soup was just a reason honestly, a reason to meet friends I hadn’t met in a long time, a reason to tell her mom so we could somehow justify the long hours we spent together. A small way of showing how much I actually liked her, when I would wait for her to finish her cup. This time was just ours.
This time was for us to watch other families come and sit in front of us as the overly tired mother fed her little child, as the dad fed his child while eating/drinking his own soup. For some, it was just soup, for some family bonding.
This soup was for a broke college student who wanted to have fun and talk but only had 10₹ in their pockets.
It’s a shame they made it 15rs now.
This soup meant something comfortable, which at the time of a cold, I badly needed as badly I needed her. (RIZZ).
Or maybe it’s just a cup of soup.
Maybe.
Thank you Namma Bakery, and you too, a person on the internet.
Namma bakery, pay me money for the marketing.
