I used to love deep-fried potato curries, served with rice or chapati. My ideal meal included those crispy potatoes, South Indian mango pickle (*aavakkai*), and mulaga podi (chili powder). With tears in my eyes and gasping for breath, I’d devour it all—and yes, I was equally fond of potato chips. 

After retirement, my wife insisted I cut back on fried foods to manage cholesterol and hypertension. Over time, potato chips became a rare treat and fried curries almost disappeared from my plate. When we visited the U.S., my sons introduced me to veggie chips—an attempt to offer a healthier alternative. 

Then came the heart attack, which forced me to overhaul my diet entirely. I stopped adding salt, shifted to salads, and said goodbye to fried foods. One doctor even advised me, “You don’t have to insult salt—add a bit.” Radiation therapy further restricted my diet, eliminating spicy foods. I often joked that my meals were barely better than deoiled cakes—bland and bitter, with no salt, sugar, or spice. 

At times, I’d gaze longingly at appalams and vadams (crispy fried treats) on the table. My family soon learned to keep them out of sight. Even the smell of these delicious items was off-limits. 

To manage my sugar levels, I adopted a strict routine: sprouted fenugreek in curd as a starter, followed by salt-free salads. We even began mixing quinoa with rice. My meals became smaller and simpler, with low-salt vegetables and minimal oil. Over time, my palate adapted. 

Now, even the slightest hint of salt tastes overwhelming, a drop of sugar feels like honey, and a touch of spice explodes like a bombshell. But I’ve grown to enjoy this bland food—it’s soothing and easy on my stomach. 

How habits shape us! My brain has adjusted to this new way of eating, finding comfort in simplicity. Why search for more when contentment is already within reach? 

Contd. 383. I Deal with Idea and Ideal