The Chili and Me

Whenever I meet a chili, I always have to surrender. The chili always defeats me, mocking me. Yet, just like knowing that loving someone will bring pain but still choosing to love them, I know eating chili will give me a stomachache, but I still eat it. I am amazed when I see some people who can eat a lot of chili. Some people prefer sour foods. Others prefer bitter. But I, who cannot eat anything exceptionally more than others, even feel a little inferior about it.

This morning, I bought some fried glass noodles for my niece. She didn't want to eat them, so I ended up eating them myself. Fried glass noodles taste best when mixed with sour flavors. Without tasting the sourness first, I poured all the chili sauce into the noodles and mixed it in. When I tasted it, I realized it was extremely spicy. But I endured and ate it all without spitting it out. I didn't want to waste it. Afterwards, I drank cold water to soothe the spiciness. While bad deeds may not bring immediate consequences, the chili certainly wasted no time in punishing me thoroughly, as if looking down on me. My stomach started to ache. This stomachache wasn't gentle like other illnesses. It came with waiting, with stabbing pains, writhing inside me. It was truly a terrible suffering. Like trying to endure the pain of loving someone who has left, I tried my best to bear the chili's punishment, but I couldn't. So, I took some medicine and lay down. Only after resting for a while did the stomachache subside.

Regarding the spiciness of chili, I remembered a story. It was a children's story. Last week, my niece liked a picture book and brought it home. The story goes like this. A little yellow cat was always upset about going to school. Why? Because on the way to school, a big grey cat would always steal and eat his lunchbox. One day, the little yellow cat saw something strange on the road. A big pigeon was trying to steal a little squirrel's food. But the little squirrel, without fear, bravely fought back and chased the big pigeon away. The little yellow cat saw this and was amazed, so he asked the little squirrel, "Aren't you afraid of that big pigeon?" The little squirrel replied, "No, I'm not afraid. Whoever tries to unjustly take our food, we must bravely say 'NO' and stand up to them. Otherwise, they'll keep stealing our food. They won't dare to bully us anymore." Hearing this, the little yellow cat gained the courage to stand up to the big grey cat who bullied him every day. The next day, when the little yellow cat was going to school, the big grey cat came as usual to steal his lunch. This time, the little yellow cat bravely said "NO" and protected his lunchbox. The big grey cat, not daring to bully him anymore, ran away.

Our lives are like this too. Favors we agree to even though we don't want to, just because we feel awkward saying no. Things we go along with even though we're busy, just because someone invited us. Not being able to sleep because the neighbor plays loud music all night, but enduring it to avoid conflict. There are many such things. These are the things we need to bravely say "NO" to. Similarly, we need to firmly say "No" to some of our own mind's demands. It is especially necessary to firmly refuse the mind not to eat things we shouldn't, not to go places we shouldn't, not to do things we shouldn't. Hmm, if I hadn't eaten that extremely spicy chili today out of a sense of not wanting to waste it, I wouldn't have this stomachache now.

#ai-images created with PEAKD

Original article written in Burmese by KoKoMoeHein / @myanmarkoko . English translation assisted by AI (DeepSeek).