I was not a mighty warrior like my brother. In fact I was happy not to be one.
It was the usual record, “Look at your brother! Learn from him.” my mom kept playing at me all the time.
I sat in between my brother and my mom, with a grumpy face. My plate was full. I hadn’t touched a single bit of the veggie, to be more specific — bitter gourd. My only (silent) question to my mom was, “Well, if you know that I hate it so much then why do you make it and even if you make it, why do you want me to eat it?” But I think, I already know the answer to it — it’s good for you, it’s good for your health.
But for toady spare me the fun, mom. I refuse to eat that thing today. I will not be the mighty warrior you want me to be. Silently I get up and walk towards my room.
My mom in an icy cold voice says, “Food or no food at all… seems you’ve decided.”
I shut my bedroom door. Take out my bag and grab a bar of snickers and savor each bite with delight. My small tummy will survive for today. After all what do I have to fear… I’m not a mighty warrior after all.