Milkshake

Today I tried doing the impossible. Not impossible for the most of you, but for me. You see I am many things, or at least I try to be. But there are a couple things I know I can’t do. And that I say with untampered confidence. I just can’t. Those few things include - cooking, singing, playing instruments, cleaning, shaving, making bed… Okay! There are more than just a couple things, I could easily go on and on. But thats not the point today. The point is, today, I tried.

Lately, I have always been exhausted. Exhausted from all the resistance. Resisting from my desire of getting out the house, resisting sleeping late at night, resisting being unproductive. It’s a tussle- a war against my own self. I am not gonna lie, it even gets rough sometimes. But this weekend I am trying to channel the energy into something fruitful or if I may say something chocolatey.

I decided I would conjure up a milkshake.

So I did what any sane man trying to make a milkshake would do- see if they have any milk in the fridge and some ice cream. I have to be honest, I definitely thought that was it. Then started my odyssey of making the great milkshake.

I needed something else, I am not crazy to have just drunk milk and be stupid enough to write an article about it. There is obviously more. So I go to the storage room to see what I can add to the milk before I shake it. There I found chocolate Nutella, some raisins, nuts and Oreo. Good, its every thing I love. “This is going to be awesome”, I thought to myself. There was no way I could fuck this up.

Let’s break it down for a minute. There was Oreo which I love, Nutella of which I am a big fan of. I can eat a kilogram of Cashews a day, and almonds are always welcome. Raisin? Ummm, not a fan but two can’t hurt. All in all, it was a damn good ingredient, and no one’s arguing that. This was going to be something delicious for it had everything I loved. Not one thing that I didn’t like. So I blend all of it in the right proportions. It was supposed to be “heaven”.

But was it? Let’s put it this way, if that was what heaven tasted like I am better off getting roasted in hell.

Hate is a strong word. But I did, I hated the milkshake with all my guts.

At that moment, I really wanted to be as grateful as Joey. He so adorably enjoyed the trifle Rachel had prepared for them. He could enjoy the taste of each ingredients as separate even though they were amalgamated. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t enjoy the ingredients as independently as Joey did. I was not him. For all I know I share food or at least I used to, with people who wanted to share meals with me but that’s a rant for some other day.

The milkshake tasted bad, like real real bad. It was so unpleasantly sweet that it almost made me angry. And to rectify that, I added some more milk. It was worse and honestly, I was surprised by the fact that there was room for any worse. You know the taste biscuits have when they are dipped in cold water and you eat three hours later? You obviously don’t know it because no one eats it, but ladies and gentlemen I do know now. And trust me, don’t try it, and don’t be curious. Remember curiosity killed the cat, so don’t meow here. Don’t be a pussy, don’t show your whiskers. Don’t. Just don’t.

But guess what? This taught me some lessons. First, don’t ever try and make milkshake. But second was rather interesting. It was a lesson that I remembered from a movie, and turned out I had had quite a few chances understanding it in real life as well. Today included. It goes something like this- a painting is more than the sum of its parts.

I would like to stretch it to make a point here. A dish is more than its ingredients, a relationship is more than the amazing people involved, a movie is more than the scenes, a family is more than the members. You get the point, right?

In life, we will easily make a mistake thinking that tasty ingredients will definitely result in a tasty dish. We see things independently and not as a whole. We believe that beautiful paints will make our walls more prettier. But its not that simple. The milkshake today, if it was anything, it was a reminder to that very theory that is utterly misunderstood. You see, it is more than just the garnishes. Its about the right temperature, its about the cook, its about the experience I had or the lack of it, its about how badly I wanted it or the work I had done prior to wearing that chef hat. Its certainly not just the delicious ingredients, but in reality, everything after that, which makes it a great dish.