I HATE POHA

I FUCKING HATE YOU, POHA

this is my heartfelt letter to all the people from madhya pradesh, my dears, you’re all from central india— the heart of our country— you must guard yourselves properly, yes? lock your rooms, close those doors, AND NOT LET FUCKING POHA ESCAPE YOUR STATE ????

I HATE POHA BRO WHAT THE FUCK IS IT EVEN
WHY DOES IT EXIST
IT DOESN’T EVEN TASTE THAT BAD
ITS JUST WHY ARE PEOPLE SO OBSESSED WITH POHA AND WHATS UP WITH THE FREQUENCY OF CONSUMING IT????

my mom made poha on thursday last week, then friday last week, then saturday last week, and now today— which is a monday, i had to eat fucking poha again. my baby brother loves poha. hell, he would swim in a poha pool.

i do not like rant posts, and i do not shit post at all but i really need to say this, PLEASE TAKE THE POHA BACK TO YOUR STATE.
I AM FED UP OF EATING THE SAME FLATTENED RICE EVERYDAY.
DO YOU GUYS NOT HAVE MORE INTERESTING FOOD? WHY CAN’T WE HAVE IDK PAV BHAJI IN BREAKFAST ???
my mother usually cycles between idli, vermicelli, uttapam and poha for the week. WHERE ARE OTHER FOOD ITEMS?

and ohmygod don’t even get me started on flight poha. that fucking piece of shit oh my god. tastes like crap, it’s so soggy, it’s the worst thing in the world.

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wait, i’ll ask MP people nicely now:

to the good citizens of madhya pradesh—my dearest central indians, the supposed “heart” of this nation:

i address this final plea directly to you. please, i beg of you, listen.

i know you are proud people. you have the majestic khajuraho temples, the lush forests of kanha, the rich history of the mauryas and the mughals. you have so much cultural capital. so why, in the name of all that is holy, is your single greatest export to the rest of india a sad, beige, flattened disc of processed rice?

is this your revenge for forgetting you guys half the time? is this a secret ploy to slowly bore the rest of us into submission? because it’s working.

i am not asking you to abolish poha. i am not a monster. keep it. cherish it. marry it, if you must. have your poha for breakfast, lunch, and dinner inside your own state borders. build a giant poha statue in bhopal. declare it your state bird, for all i care.

but for the love of god, stop the exports.

build a wall. not for migrants— for poha. install biometric scanners at every border checkpoint. if a single flattened rice flake tries to cross into maharashtra, gujarat, or especially into my mother’s kitchen, i want it shot on sight.

my mother is a wonderful woman, but she is a creature of habit. and you—yes, you, with your viral instagram reels and your “namkeen” toppings—have convinced her that this bland, soggy, textureless nightmare is a legitimate breakfast option four times a week. she thinks she’s being cultured. she thinks she’s connecting with the heart of india.

she is wrong. she is a victim. and so am i.

i have eaten poha on thursday. i have eaten it on friday. i have eaten it on saturday. i have eaten it on monday. if i see that yellow-tinted, peanut-studded abomination on my plate one more time, i will not be responsible for my actions. i will immigrate. i will renounce my citizenship. i will move to a country where breakfast means anything other than flattened, rehydrated rice.

so, madhya pradesh, i am down on my knees. take your poha back. keep your poha safe. lock your doors, guard your kitchens, and contain your breakfast.

i am tired. i am traumatized. and i just want a goddamn pav bhaji for breakfast without having to file a formal petition.

do the right thing. save my mornings. and please, for the last time—

take. the. poha. back.

yours in eternal hunger and unyielding rage,
a very fed-up, very carbo-loaded citizen who is this close to starting a riot over a bowl of poha.

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author’s note: ykw, fuck poha. for my non-indian readers, i’m sorry for flooding your inbox. this is the first and last time i’ve done this.