The loss

There was once a woman of very high standing in society. She was the village cook. Everyone looked up to her, respected, admired and loved her. When she walked down the street, everyone turned around and paid their respects.

(This could also have something to do with the fact that each of the people she provided food for had outstanding debts, and that their currency was called "respect," but we'll leave that for another day)

One night, she was publicly spurned by the richest family in the village and asked not to ever return. She cried & cried, begging to be taken back, but it was all in vain. Everyone in the village had seen her being humiliated and she felt so awful that she almost poked a needle into her hip (sui-cide, get it?). She even considered leaving the village. However, at the advice of some friends, she decided to stick it out. Her finger that is, at the rich family.

When she returned to her house, she found that she could no longer cook the delicious meals that everyone loved so much.

She went on a trek to the Nilgiris (the one in Royapettah) to ask for answers while buying maavu. There she met a sage who was buying some thyme. His name was Parsley. She told him her tale of woe and when she had finished, he gave her a sad smile.

"When you returned to your kitchen, did you notice anything missing?" he asked kindly.
"I... umm... don't remember. I was so distraught," she replied.
"I think I know the reason for the decline. Are all your cooking utensils there?"
"Yeah, they should be... Who would steal that stuff?" she replied, positively befuddled.
"I think your pressure cooker is gone."

She paused, shocked. How would he know what was missing in her kitchen?! She hadn't noticed the loss of the cooker!

"My... my... my... pre... pressure..." she began, after slightly recovering from the shock.
"Cooker," he finished, helpfully.
"Y-y-yes. H-how would y-you know that i-its g-g-gone?"
"Simple. You've lost your prestige."

End Mokkai.

Inspired by magix'n'curses's semma kadi stories.