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When hunger strikes,

Your mind forgets all else,

And your stomach rumbles.

When hunger strikes,

You dream of your favourite food:

Ah, the taste of tomato rasam,

Rice,

And Aloo Bhujia.

When hunger strikes,

You remember each time you’ve eaten your favourite food,

Every meal for which you’ve sat in front of the television,

With a cork-mat,

Because your mother over-heated the rasam,

And almost forced a burnt tongue,

By heating the rice,

Despite your warnings.

When hunger strikes,

You miss home,

Because home is where rasam is,

And these khakhra-eaters, and fafda-mongerers,

Make coconut float instead of tomato in their rasam –

Committing crimes against humanity.

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