The 8 types of Pakoras

I moved to Melbourne in summers and while it still felt colder than the winters of Karachi, it was beautiful and refreshingly pleasant. The first time it rained, I went crazy, like proper cray cray!! Husband was at work and by the time he came home, I had a platter of fresh onion pakoras ready! We enjoyed them while talking, gazing out at the beautiful view from our barely furnished living room window. Life in that moment was sorted!

The next day it rained again! I made pakoras again. This time the round aloo ones. We had them with garma garam chai, binge watching our favourite show on Netflix. It really couldn’t get any better than that!

The next to the previous day, it rained again! I made pakoras AGAIN! This time I tried the mirchi and baingan ones. I learned that day that husband doesn’t like baingan (or any sabzi for that matter), he ate the former while I finished off the latter, both of us looking at our phones, not talking but co-existing in comfortable silence.

The next to the previously previous day, it rained again. In fact it rained non stop for 3 more days. You’d think I’d have enough, but NO! After all, there were so many kind of pakoras for a reason! So I made chicken, mixed vegetable and palak ones consecutively. I could feel that, husband was getting tired of them pakoras. But we were newly married and still in the I-love-everything-you-do phase, so he stayed quiet. The thing is, I’m from Karachi so my logic was simple. RAIN = PAKORAS. Full stop. 🤷🏻‍♀️

The night before the last day of the week, I was nervous. I had already made 7 types of pakoras and couldn’t think of any other. Much to my relief as I woke up on Sunday morning, the sun was shining brightly in the sky. Jumping in excitement, I woke Husband up.

He looked at me groggily, and exclaimed “PAKORA”!

“Ha ha, very funny! No pakoras today Husband” I replied cheerfully and got up to wash my face.

But as I looked into the mirror, I realised what he’d meant. There, sitting proudly, right in the middle of my forehead, was the giant-est and most humongous-est pimple I had ever seen.