Takedown (2nd place) @ metonym 2019

Second Place:

Gobi Manchurian

Deciding a place to go out with my friends is impossible. It’s easier to schedule Izrael-Palestine peace talks. Everyone has a favorite darshini and all of us have to go only there to eat Gobi manchurian. Only Gobi Manchurian.

Honestly, gobi manchurian rarely even tastes like gobi. It is just a solid mass of congealed soya sauce , corn flour and ajinomoto. It’s always too salty. One has to dig around the solid mass of batter to find the gobi, like a treasure that no one wants in the first place. It is astounding that the darshini industry has fooled people into believing that paying 50 rupees for like 2 pieces of gobi is somehow acceptable.

I don’t think they ever change the oil they use to fry these supposed gobi manchurian. In every bite, you can almost taste whatever other poor vegetables was previously fried and made to pass off as manchurian. The whole concept of gopi manchurian seems icky to me. It’s  too much of everything – too much salt, too much corn starch,too much red colour, too much onions and capsicum on the side, too much hype!

I believe that life passes us by as we go in search of that perfect gobi manchurian that doesn’t exist. We can live our lives without it, and still be perfectly happy. too many friendships have been ruined as collateral of the search for the perfect manchurian . It’s not worth it. And that’s the tea for today.

– Aditi Kumar, 3rd EJP


Gobi Manchurian

All the vegetarian maggas who are gonna argue that they have gobi manchurian as touchings for old monk, let me stop you right there. Seriously guys, I think all of you should think about the saying “Think twice before you talk”, just hear yourself out! Did you really think you could compare gobi with murgh?

You take a nice steaming bath to wear off all the wriggly worms off you, you break yourself into small blocks to create an illusion. You deceive the world into giving you the privilege of swimming in the spicy red batter, you burn yourself out in the hot oil, yes, I agree that you make it to the sparkling white plate (wipes, not washed).The cook garnishes you with the help of your carrot and leafy friends , he carries you on his palm, while you glee with pride but don’t you dare think you can fool us. “The murgh lovers”.We might down three drinks, but we surely can see past your red crispy cover. The inside matters!

And thus you shall be always forbidden in the land of murgh lovers! *Conditions apply.

*You are very much loved during the lent season.

– Annie Louis, 2nd EJP

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