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Writer's pictureArunita Seth

The Dosa Crisis

Right now as we speak, well as I speak, I’m attempting to make Dosa.

Dosa is a South-Indian dish, kinda like a salty pancake served with specific curry, sambar. It’s heavenly when made by experienced hands.


As a North-Indian, I’m way out of my depths when it comes to the wildly different cuisine of the South, but we still try here and there.


As nervous as I was to approach the Dosa making, I was moderately confident of my pancake-flipping skills, so I thought,

“After hours of practising pancakes, you must’ve learnt something! Skill and time spent learning are never wasted.”


In this dosa-making context, it most definitely was.


I made three dosa scrambles and smoothies instead of anything remotely edible, and for some reason which I can’t begin to comprehend, shook me to my literal core.


I was literally standing in the kitchen, gasping for any possible breathing air (thanks to the bushfires, the supply is indeed limited) and crying profusely at the following thoughts.


We all say to constantly learn is important and to gain skills but where does it go?

That lifetime of mistakes and progress decomposes expensively or turns to literal ash!


I’ve heard that we should be at peace with the concept of pointlessness. But how?

How do I learn to accept my actions have no literal purpose?

How do I become content with the horrifying fact that my efforts mean nothing?

How do I accept that I am completely and utterly pointless?

I am pointless.


I do not matter but I am matter.


Anyways I’m gonna go eat Vada now (a South-Indian salty fried doughnut!) and absorb all of this lol.

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