Young readers are told what to eat. Almost nobody tells them the earlier story — where the food came from, what happened before it reached the plate, what kind of soil grew it, and what that soil was fed. This book makes that hidden story visible. Not through fear. Not through guilt. Through curiosity.
A narrative non-fiction for young readers, told through Aarav — a thirteen-year-old cricketer in Ahmedabad who collapses mid-match after a breakfast of chips and cold drink, and is handed a strange tomato that tastes completely unlike any tomato he has eaten before. The door opens. His plate will never look the same.
For every young mind told to eat healthy without being told the real story. For the child who will one day hold a seed and realise that the future can begin in a palm.
The Match
One strange tomato. One door that stays open.
Aarav was not lazy. He wanted that clearly understood.
He could run. He could dive. He could shout louder than anyone on the cricket ground. But that Saturday morning, after only six overs, his legs felt like wet noodles.
The sun above Ahmedabad had decided to behave like a personal enemy. The pitch was dusty. His team needed him. The ball came toward him — and Aarav dropped it.
“Bro!” shouted Kabir from behind the stumps. “What happened to you?”
At breakfast, he had eaten half a packet of spicy chips, two biscuits, and one cold drink that looked like it had been invented by a scientist with no taste buds and no regrets.
After the match, Aarav walked home with his bat on his shoulder and disappointment in his socks. At the dining table, his mother placed a bowl of dal in front of him.
“Protein?” he asked. “Dal has protein.” He made the face teenagers reserve for information given by parents.
His mother did not reply. She simply placed one tomato on his plate. It was not a perfect tomato. It was slightly uneven. A small scar on one side. A deep, dark red, almost embarrassingly confident about its own colour.
“Why does this tomato look like it has exam stress?” “Eat first. Then talk.”
Aarav took a bite. He stopped. The tomato was sweet, sharp, juicy, and strangely full. It did not taste like the tomatoes in sandwiches at school. It tasted like something that had actually been somewhere — like it had a history.
“Where did this come from?” “From Bhoomi Ben’s farm.” “Who is Bhoomi Ben?” “You will meet her tomorrow.”
Aarav groaned. He did not know yet that the tomato had opened a door. And once that door opened, his plate would never look the same.
This book is being prepared for Kindle.
The Kindle door is not open yet Write to Nirav Being prepared for Kindle — leave a note and I will tell you when it opens.Thank you for the read.
← Back to All Books