A Potato Story

Once… there’s peace in the kitchen, where every move needs rules and every action needs to follow a guideline. A set of bloody guidelines, compiled as a book, where actions out of the book is a crime. A crime that was declared by the judge, a judge… persuaded by a stereotypic way of thinking. A judge? Well, it’s us, humans…

A tomato, a shiny tomato in red, caught the attention of Mr. Potato, and as she rolls with her smooth seductive shape and as the sunlight kisses her face, a great joy it brings Mr. Potato. “You don’t belong with her, she’s perfect and you’re not”, the cook said, and so the potato kept his silence. “Why should a potato and a tomato can’t be together?”… “Is it because I’m yellow and she’s red? we can make orange they’ll mix us… “Questions kills hope, why don’t I… better look for the answer” as potato whispers. Days passed, clock ticks and it forlorn the potato, hoping to make a fantasy to reality but rules set a boundary preventing the courage of starting to make a move.

Then there’s a night, clear skies, moon’s round when potato caught tomato’s eyes. Sparks start that none of them can explain, it’s just a deep conversation of their eyes, talking like they’re longing for each other so long. Now,, love starts to work like a thief at night that robs when no one’s aware, that you’ll just realize that it took your heart after you frisk yourself and found out that it’s missing, wherein sometimes, you thought that you misplaced somewhere along the unknown pockets of your restless chaotic mind. They started to count days and month sharing the same feelings they have, and vegetables, along with the fruits inside the basket are having a violent opinion about what potato and tomato have. Both stayed blind and deaf, they made their own magical world, a perfect place they owned, that no one can ever break.

A day came, when someone ruined everything, a person named Mr. Heinz took tomato away. He’s the boss of all tomatoes, making them into a bottle of condiment that spices chunks of fried meat, where every tomato he turned into a bottle of catsup must fulfill its destiny, to stay and flavor whatever fried we have on top of the table. That gave tomato and potato too many differences and made them look so bad for each other where both is a crime if they’ll fight for whatever they have before. The worst day for potato, a cloudy sky for him, and spent days without tomato at her side whispering “don’t worry that much, everything’s fine”, till one day. “Hi, you yellow piece of dusty root crop, missed me?”, caught his attention and turned around, “you look so perfect, better than before,… and now, everyone will curse us because I’m just a potato, and we’re so different”. Days passed when they decided to fight for their love, as people scream and yell that they’re so different with each other … and together, it seems like a circus with a clown going out with a princess.

Suddenly… potato decided to make a move, to stop people’s judgment and to let everyone accept them who they are. He started avoiding tomato… and stopped talking to her that gave her a strange feeling that potato is giving up. Another day and the potato’s gone as tomato has begun looking for him. Unaware that potato begged  Mr. Chef to slice and drop him to boiling and a hissing sea of cooking oil. “Now… you’ll be called fries.. a french fries, of course, because I’m a french” as Mr. Chef yells out of his excitement and amazement. Now that potato became a pack of fries, he gained confidence enough to face the world and settle with tomato forever. Years passed and people realized that fries are nothing without something that will bring out the best of him, it’s dull and salt is not enough to make it tasty and so they realized that all it needs is a bottle of catsup and they started spreading the news where tomato can find a potato. At last… they found each other, making them the best couple in the whole kitchen.

And as I dip the last fries to a saucer of catsup… I realized …. that they died with each other’s arms…. together happily ever after..