Dear Tastebuds, the Mother of All Our Problems

The other morning, I woke up in a hurry and reached for my laptop, which lay next to me—clearly trying to catch up on some sleep too. After all, both of us had endured a long night filled with endless editing and tackling a mountain of long-pending tasks.

As I began typing a greeting to my colleague, something on the front page of the Noida Times caught my eye. Lo and behold—our beloved Samosa and Jalebi were now under fire. I hit "send" and turned my full attention to the article, feeling a small wave of sadness wash over me. This wasn’t the front-page headline of The Times of India, but it might as well have been. While it wasn’t as grim as some of the toxic news we’re bombarded with daily, it still made it to my personal top 10 list of depressing headlines that day. 

Our ever-so-warm samosa and sweet jalebi were being compared to sticks of nicotine, tar, and other toxic, carcinogenic substances. How? And why? How did something as simple as potatoes and sugar take such a drastic turn and find themselves caught in this mess?

Sipping my coffee, I was pulled—just like in a classic Bollywood flashback—into a swirl of childhood memories: evenings spent at Nani’s house, greedily devouring samosas and jalebi with my cousins. Or those surprise visits from unannounced guests—our signal that the kitchen would soon come alive, and we’d be greeted with plates full of our beloved treats. And now they were under scrutiny! The headlines glaring at me and questioning me if I would hesitate to ever dig into a plate of samosa or jalebi, if a warning much like cigarette packets warned me of its health risks made me ponder for a moment. Would I?

Since most advertising groups keep sending us countless emails that often go unanswered, I decided to write one myself—this time, to my dear taste buds. After all, their input mattered the most at this point. So this is how it went.

Dear Tastebuds,

It’s been a while since we had a proper heart-to-heart. I hope you're thriving—though honestly, I’m quite certain you are. After all, each day you lead me into craving something utterly delicious, often something that doesn't exactly agree with my gut... but like a devoted partner, I give in to your temptations.

Sure, the brain tries to intervene now and then, throwing in fruits, quinoa salads, and the ever-fascinating trio of flax, chia, and pumpkin seeds. It insists these are “good” for us. And maybe they are. But then, out of nowhere, you whisper cupcake—and like clockwork, I obey. 

Lately though, I sense you’ve been facing more resistance from up top. The brain keeps warning us about things—heart disease, diabetes, sugar, and the ever-growing list of ailments lurking around. Let’s not even get started on the viruses. Since the days of Corona, the world has changed, and so have our priorities. But even in the thick of it all, I tried my best to listen to you more than anyone else.

Still, maybe it’s time we both reflect. Let’s talk about our two iconic partners-in-crime—the hot samosa and the crisp syrup-dripping jalebi. They've suddenly been under constant attack by the entire system. Not because they’ve stopped being delicious, but because every bite now comes with consequences. And my dear Tastebuds, I need you to hear me out before you roll your eyes and make me sign off in mid-sentence.

Every time you tempt me to pick up just one tiny piece of jalebi, something definitely stirs inside my tummy. For the longest time, I mistook that feeling for butterflies of excitement—your way of cheering as the sugar syrup made its way in. But alas, it was something else entirely. It was storm of acidity brewing beneath, and it was a host of other ailments knocking loud enough to be heard above your sweet whisper. Alas! Our very beloved Acid Reflex.

So, how about this? Let’s strike a bargain.

We both know giving up food altogether isn’t our style—we’re foodies to the core. But maybe, just maybe, you can help me choose more wisely. Let’s find joy that feeds both the soul and the body. On some days, I’ll turn to Amla juice, sip on a detox, or crunch a bowl of sprouts. And in return, every now and then, I’ll give in to your fantasy of golden samosas and swirly jalebis.

It’s time, dear Tastebuds. Time to step out of our honeymoon phase and step into a more balanced relationship—one where love and logic can coexist. 

Yours in every bite,

Me

The minute I signed off from that heart-wrenching letter to my dear Tastebuds, I knew something had to change. We’re living in an era where toxicity isn’t just a metaphor anymore—it begins with the air we breathe, the water we drink, and seeps right into the food we eat. From the fruits on our tables to the snacks we crave, everything carries a trace of something unnatural—pesticides, preservatives, and chemicals we can’t even pronounce. And while we may not control the entire food chain, we can certainly take charge of what we choose to consume.

Now, I do admit, comparing a cigarette to a warm, golden samosa might feel a bit extreme. But maybe the food industry isn’t trying to ruin our fun. Maybe, just maybe, the cautionary labels and warnings are not part of a profit-driven conspiracy, but a rare act of care. Maybe someone, somewhere, actually did something for our good, without an ulterior motive.

So here I am—not swearing off every indulgence, but learning to savor them mindfully. Knowing when to say yes, and when to say no. Here’s to a gentler relationship with food! 

And to my beloved Tastebuds—don’t worry, you won’t be left behind. I’m just learning to love you a little more responsibly!!