It was the usual at the dinner table. Rice, daal and vegetables. And yet somehow, it tasted better than the average day meal. As I attempted to unfold the mystery element in my head, my mother remarked "It tastes better today, right?".
Validation of my observation made it even more intriguing. I must find out, my mind resolved. "What new ingredient you added, mother?", I enquired. "Nothing. But this rice is from your last village visit". Those humble faces resurfaced. They had gifted me some rice from their field with such love. It had to taste great. It always does.
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