Crazy title? Not really, there are so many underlying emotions associated with “milk”. Sic sic.
Err..I will stop being a shitty piece of melodramatic fur ball that I am and tell you why I hate milk ! Wait a minute, from the title, did you by any chance think that I love milk? No, not even in my dreams can I love milk. And when I say milk, I refer to the white, frothy, plain, liquid source of the so called “very important calcium”.
It all started 27 years ago, (I will be 27 this August, wish me “Happy B’day”, ok? *Rolls her eyes and thinks how much more lame can she get*) , when I was a baby. I don’t remember if I hated milk then but my mommy tells me that I was a terror to be breastfed. I realise it is such a pain for the small babies to drink the same plain milk for months together. I would have preferred atleast flavored milk, or say, a pizza to munch along with it, but, I don’t know why, mommy doesn’t agree. Mommies, I say, are very stubborn.
The hatred grew stronger with age. My mom would run behind me with a glass of milk every single day. She tried to feed me plain milk, Complan, Horlicks, Bournvita, Boost, etc but I wouldn’t budge. I cried, wailed, woke up the neighbours but I refused to drink milk. One day she asked me as to why I hated milk so much. I told her, “I can smell the cow/buffalo in the milk and it stinks so horribly that my nose wants to go hide somewhere at the sight of milk”. Wait a minute, does nose see? Forget it, let me continue. So, according to her, the problem was the smell. Wrong. The problem was bigger. It was the smell, the taste and the texture.
My mom couldn’t cope up with the tantrum I threw on seeing milk. So, she decided to leave me and the milk alone so that we could bond over time. She was wrong. I was elated when she left me alone with the milk. I found so many new ways to dispose off the milk that my mom didn’t know what method I would use next. When mom wasn’t around, I would pour the milk in the sink, sometimes, in the bathroom. But she found out. I wasn’t the one to give up. I found a new way to dispose it off. I would go feed the milk to our “Sapota/ Chikoo” tree. Believe me, I am responsible for the ever sweet, most tasty fruits we get every year from that tree. I fed it the nutrition it wanted, depriving myself of it. I am so proud of my sacrifice.
Mom stopped telling me to drink milk as I grew older. She started giving me curd, buttermilk, ice creams, milkshakes, flavoured milk as substitutes which I enjoyed. I hated only plain milk you see. Only if she had thought of all this before, she would have freed herself from so much hassle.
Present day situation is no different. They say “In life, opposites attract”. It is true. My husband loves milk. I can’t appreciate the fact for reasons you already know. But, he hates fruit. So, now we have found a way where both of us drink milk and eat fruit without cribbing – thanks to milkshake. I drink milkshake thinking it has fruits and my husband drinks milkshake thinking it has milk. It is all about perception you see.