From @rbd_sqrl: ‘His friends had described him as bland for as long as he had lived. He drained the colour out of any living thing he came in contact with. It was pretty obvious. He was just plain uninteresting.’ Opening lines of his biography. He looked at his muse and said with a smile, “Not now, Mrs.Pepper.”
From @ThWanderingSoul : It was there they fell in love, amidst the cinnamon, pepper and star anise. Her waist was draped by her husband's arm. His hand was grasping the pinky finger of a five year old. Stolen glances when the moment was right. They left the spice store with a desolate smile.
From @irrationalnumb: The box was in his pocket, always. He ate outside, always. Food, that was too bland for him. Food, that always needed the special spice mix that his mother had created. The cylindrical box, a joke for his friends. The blue box, the only belonging he had of his late mother. The small box, empty.
From @Dimaagi_Keeda: Ashley and Rahul had recently got married. Mr Patil was only happy to be mentor to her “Firang” Daughter in Law. Ashley could barely stand the heat in that small room as if she was being subjected to holocaust. “Our food is like our lives, lots of different colors, flavors & Spices” Mrs Patil said.
From @mydirtylinen: You perch on the platform in the kitchen as we feverishly undress. Your hands grasp wildly at the air. Inside you, I lose myself. The only sounds are your breathing and the tinkling of bottles. Cinnamon and saffron lie at our feet. Coated in colour, I taste you. Intoxicating.
From @jakebinge: She was cooking for him after 7 years. She prepared an exquisite meal including his favorite Paneer kofta. All this would help find that spark again. He didn’t like the kofta. Said she put too many spices. He didn’t like spicy food anymore. At least he finished dinner but they didn’t hug or kiss.
From @ghaatidancer: I tried to make you understand how wonderful these are. As we wander through the aisle, your nonchalance disappoints me. You do not see how much I love these little bottles of magic. As I walk away, listlessly, you wrap your arms around me and say, "Your eyes are like...star anise."
From @Marwaari: Totally ravaged, I stand today for my identity. Being raped by every visitor, I stand today for my integrity. I was helpless but I held on to every hope the world showed. My children cried, My children died, I still stand here with clinched fists. The land of Bamiyan's and Spices, Welcome to Afghanistan.
From @bitchwanti: Clove for warmth. Salt for peace. A pinch of red chilli for excitement. A hint of turmeric for good health. A spoon of mustard seeds for bitterness. The variety of her life had been spice and all that was missing was the sugar of love.
From @Kaloladeep: Chasing Someone with Dynamite, "Father, what is life?" He sat back on bench, running a hand through his hair. He knew, the touch and all the spices of her sweat and glow. The way the universe hid inside her eyes when she said she loved him. "It is," he lied, and wept in the corner.
From @Gauravjagwani: They loved to engage in role-play. He dressed like a thief on his return from a business trip, a day earlier to surprise her. He had a key but breaking in seemed more fun. She hit him with a baseball bat. As he recovered, she used pepper spray. Talk about rubbing salt on a wound.
From @Chhotarecharge: “Bhai, I hate how they tear my clothes :(“ said Green to Black cardamom. “Badi Chhoti, that’s still better than being thrown in fiery-oil for a tadka!” added Cumin. “Aaww you guys! For the last time, NOTHING HURTS MORE THAN GETTING YOUR BALLS BRUTALLY CRUSHED AND GRATED TO POWDER, Okay?” summarized Pepper, King of spices!
From @MinolAjekar: Her first day at university, she writes as he dictates. Steve not Sir, this is Australia and he is Steve. Do not leave spices on the cheque, she reads as she scribes. Why would anyone leave spices on the cheque? Ahhhhhh, the accent. He said spaces, but the Australian ‘a’ sounds like an ‘i’. Sighs.
From @wekneweachother: Her husband passed away. Their memories would suffocate her. She couldn’t go back to India because they’d eloped. She shifted to a new house. Corporate career meant never having to cook. Now as a retiree, she opened a kitchen shelf and smelled strong aromas filling her heart with fullness of life. She cooked. She lived.
From @UnendingQuest: I thought you will add a pinch of salt to my life but you splashed pepper on my wounds. I thought you will fill my life with cardamom but you made it sizzle as curry leaves touch the hot oil. You surely filled my eyes with chilly powder but definitely added spice to my life.
From @TheOtherBanana: She didn’t know what to tell him. What could she say? The intensity of his emotions, intended to make her feel safe, instead made her feel like she wanted to run for the hills. She was not ready. He put out a finger and traced her wet cheek. He tasted it. Said one word. “Spicy.”
From @IndianIdle: The boy was only 7 years old but he was always fantasized by the smell of different spices. He had always seen his dad getting pleasure from it. One day he tried a red bottle of spice, He screamed in agony. After that he knew "Old spice" was not his cup of tea.
From @realfartshady: A sly grimace, an empty street, and a tarty, bitter-sweet flavor were all she could recollect when she arose in the hospital bed. Her handbag contents said she was Anupama sengar, a loaded Indian origin Indonesian businesswoman visiting Chennai. But she cared less. All she craved for was finding back the flavor.
From @Gods_Evangelos: The agony was intense. They felt in spite of everything going good why there are misconceiving and thoughtless arguments. The lack wasn’t being identified even though it was in front of them. Yes, it was the “Spice of Life”. 10 years had passed to their marriage. It was time reconcile. Honeymoon number 10 happened. :)
From @thelosthippie: There was once an Indian girl who travelled around the world. She went to far off lands where she didn’t speak the language. When they stood in the kitchen, around the bonfire or pantry; she whipped out her spice box and prepared an Indian meal. They smiled, they nodded, they ate. They understood each other.
From @sshweta93: She took in a whiff. ''That's cinnamon, father!'', she giggled. Mr. Joshi smiled, amazed at this knack she possessed. Radha was devoid of sight. Her father's spice store was her haven. She found comfort amongst those spices, the pungent fragrance of which, she easily identified. Her life; a bland dish. This was where she sought the zest.
From @iamafairytale: Her hostel in London provided the most bland food, one could ever taste. Being an Indian vegetarian all she could eat was salad, breads, beans and cheese. There now she remembered all the flavorful food of her homeland. How she missed the aurora of spices today.
From @roshd: Kunal looked at her grounding spices at the back of the shop. Their eyes met. His heart beat faster. She lowered her gaze. As always. The shopkeeper was away. “How much for ¼ kilo garam masala?” he asked. “My wife can’t speak Hindi”, the shopkeeper said entering the shop. A promising fantasy was brutally killed.
From @cheesewiththat: “It will never work” said Harat, clambering towards his majesty’s throne. “It will”, the king growled, “I’ve given this much thought.” The horns blared off the ships sailing north from the shores of Egypt through the majestic seas against the winds and waves on the mapped spice route. “Sahab! Aapki laal mirch.” Ali snapped out.
From @sumitrai100: I returned home to meet my spicy wife. She was having coitus with another man. Shocked.I went back.I came back. She was sucking a girl. Infuriated. I went back and came back with a knife. She smiled,came forward and crossed through me."It has been two years since I died". Then I realized.
From @NumbYaar: His eyes shut, his world lit up. The world was beautiful all over again. Wars, cries, hues ceased to exist, as those beautiful spices cast their magical spell. At that very moment, the atheist in him, heard the voice of God. Time came to a standstill as he heard her say ‘I love you son.’
From @dullardandy: I was watching her, she was sitting in her room. She opened a packet of chips. She sprinkled some spice on it, put it in her mouth, and down it went her throat into her stomach which would be ripped apart in next few minutes.
From @akshayabansal: The guard dogs picked up a scent. His bearded face made them discontent. They questioned him repeatedly for his bag contained tear-inducing wizardry. Their hands itched, their faces turned red, did they just survive a threat? I'm just a spice trader he exhorted, crossing the seven seas to bless my new born granddaughter.
From @randomWhiz: "You know why spices make food tasty and interesting? Whoever made the Universe applied one successful formula in many places. The same elements can be found in humans and spices. Chilli, red, envious. Oregano, just placid and right. Turmeric - healing. Salt - commonplace but essential." The chef tutor said. THAT'S why I love cooking.
From @kunalbaidmehta: "Why did you kill him?", asked the lawyer. "Because he loved spices." Everyone in the court room were bewildered to hear this. "What are you saying Ms. Dalal?". She spoke nonchalantly "I caught him in bed with his secretary. When I asked why he did this, he replied 'Variety is the spice of life'."
From @drun007 : Aarti crushed the ginger, added cinnamon & cardamom as she prepared Atul’s favorite pot of tea. She laced her own cup with poison. “I never loved you. My parents want me to marry Priya. I think I will be happy with her”, Atul said as he turned away from Aarti. She just swapped cups.
From @Freelosopher: He had a sweet-tooth, yet he carried a Spice mobile with bluetooth, pre-loaded with Spice Girls' songs. He was afraid of flying, yet the only time he'd flown was by Spice Jet. He was a loyal husband, yet his shop was named Variety Jewellers. He sold gold, yet everything about his life was an irony.
From @KonfusedKhopadi : We Indians live by the motto "no spice ,no life" . Spice is a must, not only in food but in almost everything . There are so many spices but whenever we don't get the right taste we blame it on salt . Such deep is our love for spice.
From @nishant_kaushik: Sahil roamed the streets of this unfamiliar country, searching in vain for a voice that spoke his language, for a face that relayed a smile. At dusk, he considered a diner that packed him bland lasagna. He went home, fetched a can of Indian spices and unloaded them into his meal. “Homecoming,” he smiled contentedly.
From @narinderkapur: The tourists waited for their first taste of ‘Indian’ food. In the meanwhile, they had their wallets stolen and recovered thrice; rescued three beggars and adopted them. They were also molested, one by one, almost as if in a line, and then, finally, were they treated to Murg Masala and speakers belting out nineties Sufi.
From @shivangiyadav: She resembled his daughter, especially when she smiled. Marriage had changed that. Now there were only bruises. One day he handed her a box. “A pinch every day my child, only in his food.” A month later she came and hugged him. The monster was dead, violent asthma attack. His spice mix had saved her.
From @abhiandnow: “I’ve brought this for you,” William presented a teapot, as Ramu’s eyes sparkled with joy. It was the Colonial era, and unlike two governments, this trading had given rise to a true friendship. “Main bhi aapke liye kuch laya hun,” Ramu unveiled his presents. William stared at those colourful packets slowly seducing his bland thoughts.
From @PeachBiscuit: After a long journey away from home, she reached a desert. As she was walking between the dunes, a strong wind blew the yellow dust which stuck to her body. Disgusted, she tried to escape through a small bump but a huge human finger appeared and suddenly crushed the poor ant.
From @anushreekejriwa: The aroma of turmeric, fennel seeds, asafoetida tinkers my taste buds and takes me to the spice shop everyday. The virgin olfactory transports me to a world which comprises of food. I get back to my senses and spot the gym right across the street. I look at myself, smell the spices and leave.
Finally the long journey comes to an end. Tomorrow we enter into a new
land of spices as my king calls it. Never before I have waited so much
for a sunrise. The voyage comes to a victorious end. A fruitful
journey, yet awaits.
19th May, 1498
From @OhTeri_: WATER, minerals and sun; in correct proportion to grow. Sweat, labour and time; takes all this too. Grown. Cut. And, the best ones chosen in the sieve. Grounded and then sold. Spread across; in homes and hotels. Goes through heat and WATER some more. From tongues to intestines. And, finally comes out. Use WATER. Destiny.
From @sahilk: Our food is bland according to the Indians. And probably the Mexicans as well. I’ve seen the Indians asking for extra hot sauce while ordering their shawarmas. Tried their biryani. They won’t be able to swallow the khabsaa the restaurants serve. I’m sure they’ll ask for spiced up curd. What’s that they call it? Raita?
From @HelenOfAhoy: Mary had a little lamb. Then she sued the makers of nursery rhyme was using her name. That made her rich. She used that money to buy MDH garam masala. She killed her little lamb, and had mutton biryani for dinner.
From @theaceofspade_: He was sweating profusely. He ran to the balcony, he was suffocating. He can feel his nervous system sending distress signals. The poison was spreading from his stomach, His face was going numb. All his friends stood around him laughing. “Fuck you”, he managed to whisper. He swore never to eat chillies again. Stupid Bet.
From @ritukarthik: Such an addictive thing, once I had tasted the flavors, there was no stopping me. I knew I had to have these aromas surrounding me for the rest of my life. All mine, and mine alone. And one day just like that she walked away, the petit lil spice of mine.
From @lady_gabbar: "Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice"! He'd grown up watching Powerpuff Girls. And these words kept ringing in his head all the time. He's met so many girls. But all of them were just sugar and everything nice. He, on the other hand, craves spice! He wants spice. Where is the spice?
From @Oven_Tikka: Cartons and trunks covered every inch of what was supposed to be their own little space in the world. As she stood wondering where to start, he started unpacking the box that said *Spices*. “Let’s eat first”, he said. “We’re hungry.” And with that he placed a large steel bowl on the floor and whistled.
From @pbkulkarni: "Mom, what's "a spicy life?" - asked a school going lad. "Sweetheart, your friends, relatives and people you come in contact with are "spices" of your life" - replied the mother. After seeing question marks on his face she continued - "mixture of right people in your life is a perfect recipe of spicy life".
From @tweettabulous: Remember when Jerry Seinfeld said I should be on tables with salt and pepper, because everything good has cinnamon in it. Yes, I have magic powers; I am blessed to make everything delicious. My only plea to you humans is to save trees, or your future generation will be devoid of my awesomeness.
From @awsmbong: "She went up to the pantry and was fiddling with the spices. The room filled with an aroma. She never had much knack for cooking. But since we weren’t talking, she made toast to win me over. It is dangerous to leave moisturizing cream in the refrigerator, as it could be mistaken for mayonnaise. Yes."
From @Life_ambiguous: "Some cinnamon", my aunt teaching her expert recipe. "You need to blend all spices to get the desired flavour. If one is out of proportion, it can ruin your dish." She added lemon flowers. "If too bitter add some sweetness, too sweet, add sour. Balance it as per your taste. Life is also a dish."
From @floydianbrahman: Today was nothing but a drab dreary delusion of the mojo they shared. Inseparable since the day they met, in a lone corner of their workplace. A drug more potent than all the vials of happy juice. Platonian intimacy with a cup of ginger. They forgot to replenish the drawer. Tea is just tea today.
From @_PWN: They had been seeing each other for a year. She cooked a meal for him for the first time. An hour later, she was beaten up by a lover for the first time. The meal wasn't spicy enough for him.
From @BoozeSexSundry: A whiff of Cardamom filled the room and called him towards the kitchen. A hot summer afternoon. He reached for the matka and glugged down water. She was sweating over some curry he liked. She retired from a heat wave. He took a handful of Chironji, Aamchur and Basil. 'I'll do it maa, where's salt?'
From @mental_Aunty: Food-his life, spices-oxygen, pleasing people-necessity. For what? To be ridiculed by the owner, hotel staff, to hate his passion for food? His degree from The Cordon Bleu? Sinking into the abyss of his failure, he sipped wine as he watched the food go out. It had a special ingredient tonight, Rat Poison.
From @DayaDarwazaTodo: He looked into her shining eyes, his touch almost killing her. They could not get enough of each other. The more he touched, the more she wanted him to. It was electrifying. Tired as they were, they just couldn’t stop. At the mercy of their bodies. If this weren’t spicy enough, what would be?
From @madrasmad: She’d tried just about every fragrance that the boutique had. But, not once did her boyfriend pay attention to what she smelled like. On her way to meet him one evening, she got some cheap spray that smelled like Cinnamon. “Mmmm… come here, lemme eat you, spice girl”, he said.
From @amipujjs: They Glow. Anger, Love, Bitterness, Courage, Hope, Fear, Passion. They speak in every language, play with them and give it a common name. Like the Gods, omnipresent, in every culture; uniting mankind. Their fragrances and odors impart ancient knowledge. Accompanying us till our souls depart, they are our masters, spinning our yarns, making us one.
From @Adrenalyst: Fresh in the translator’s cabin, her voice trembled at first in search of the right words. But her recent past quickly swelled the confidence. She had transformed from a loner to the gossip queen of her college. Her secret - ‘Add Spice’. Next day of the UN meeting, the headlines read: US lifts sanctions on Afghanistan.
From @kingoFlames: As they say, "Variety's the spice of life." So, here I'm, meeting a lady, outside my committed relationship of seven months. It wasn't really a date. It was just this girl I've been chatting with, on twitter. "Black dress." "Blue shirt, black jeans." I looked up. It turns out to be my ex. I start sweating.
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