The Samosa and Me

I don’t clearly recall when I first tasted it.
It could’ve been at one of the parties
Or bought home by visiting relatives.
But, I do recall falling head over heels,
In that instant, when I ate it.
A deep-fried Indian pastry
Filled with spiced potato, onion, and peas,
Called a samosa, commonly,
Got my taste buds addicted, delightfully.
And, this is where the story begins.
When I was a child, I loved this treat,
And as I was a child, I got away with it.
When I grew older, it wasn’t a mystery –
The samosa had a hand in shaping me.
The scrumptiously delicious pastry
With its spicy potato filling and chutney
Was why my waist size had increased,
And my hormones were swinging wildly.
But, my taste buds were hooked on to it,
And it took me a hospital visit
To realize that I had to cut down on it.
With the years, I grew wiser, definitely –
And I ate one, ok, at times two, daily.
“But you have to stop,” they all tell me,
“For the samosa is your worst enemy!”
So now, it’s salads that are healthy,
And soups made of boiled veggies.
The samosa on my plate is history,
And that’s the end of my tragic story.