Kitchen Therapy

Photo by Syd Wachs on Unsplash

***

“I am haunted by a recurring nightmare,” says the pumpkin.
“Oh? What happens in your nightmare?” I ask.
“Someone scoops out my insides and leaves me alone in the dark.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Yes, and what’s more horrible is this: In my dream, even though I am terrified, I can’t stop smiling.”

***

“Why do bad things always happen to me? Everything sucks. I hate everything,” says the bitter melon.
I hand over the salt and say, “Here. Let it soak in for some time. Then let’s wash it away and you’ll feel better. Trust me, we all need some time to get rid of some of the bitterness.”

***

“I am too soft. And weak,” says the tofu with a sigh. “I want to be tough like the carrot or broccoli.”
“You may be soft but you are not weak,” I reply.
“You sustain life just as they do. Recognize your power and own it.”

****

“I see things all the time. Things that other people don’t see.” whispers the potato.
I want to lighten up the mood by asking, “Is it because you have so many eyes?”
But the potato looks so serious that I decide now is not the time for my bad jokes.
Instead, I say, “Tell me what you saw in the underground.”

****

“I feel like there’s two of me within one body. Some days, I feel like I’m Tomayto and some days, I feel like I’m Tomahto,” says the tomato.
I pause and ask, “Who am I speaking to today?”

****

“Please don’t cry,” says the onion.
For a moment, I am transported back in time. Yellow lights, two cups of coffee, a pair of hands that felt cold to the touch. I didn’t say it then. But I decide to say it now.
“Are you aware that you are the one who’s making me cry?”
The onion nods and looks away. “I don’t like to see you cry.”
I didn’t hear it then. And I don’t hear it now. For some, “sorry” indeed seems to be the hardest word to say.