As the last Maggi wrapper flutters across the hillside at every tourist hotspot, we relive those magic masala moments—moments when the nation took to the noodle maniacally. Nostalgia, we know, is caused by too much lead in the soul. Maybe it’s too much Maggi in the veins.
Maggidomination, like Cocacolonisation, is the evil that must be banished. It must be outed from our tables, rucksacks, school tiffins and hospital canteens so that we can dive into our homemade attas and podis (powders) and munch on sprouts and wheatgrass. After all, we did quell the might of the multinational Cola and create our own brand of Indian colas and fizzy drinks raised in the glorious “spirit of 77”.