Setting: A cozy kitchen in a suburban neighborhood in Toronto. It’s snowing lightly outside. Two friends, Ravi (the rational thinker) and Sameera (the superstitious one), are sipping chai.
Sameera: (placing a greasy, curry-stained plate on Ravi’s counter)
Here you go! Thanks again for the sabzi. It was amazing.
Ravi: (looking at the plate, a little bewildered)
Sameera… you didn’t even rinse it?
Sameera: (nodding seriously)
Of course not. You know I don’t wash a neighbour’s plate. It brings bad luck. Why risk it?
Ravi: (chuckling)
You think the universe is out there with a checklist going, “Oh no! Sameera washed the plate! Cancel her good fortune for the month!”
Sameera:
Laugh all you want, Ravi, but ever since I stopped washing plates before returning them, things have turned around. I found my AirPods after three months. My tax return came early. My mom’s knee pain got better.
Ravi:
Okay, but correlation doesn’t mean causation. Maybe the AirPods turned up because you finally cleaned your couch cushions?
Sameera:
I did clean the cushions… after returning three dirty plates last Diwali. Coincidence? I think not.
Ravi:
Listen, I get that traditions can be comforting, but think about it. Returning a dirty plate is… unhygienic. What if someone’s plate had raw chicken on it?
Sameera:
Well obviously, I wouldn’t do that. This is vegetarian curry grime. It’s practically sacred.
Ravi:
You know what else is sacred? Good hygiene and not spreading bacteria.
Sameera:
Oh please. You and your science. Not everything can be proven in a lab. My naani used to say that the food you give someone is a blessing. If they return the plate with that blessing still on it, the good vibes come back to you.
Ravi:
I love your naani stories, but think about this. What if the original reason people didn’t wash plates was simply because there was no running water in the village, or they didn’t want to offend someone’s hospitality by scrubbing away their cooking?
Sameera:
Maybe. But even now, my cousin in Mississauga insists it works. She returned a dirty bowl to her neighbor last month and got a promotion the next day.
Ravi:
Sameera. I returned a sparkling clean tiffin to Raj last week, and I got approved for a mortgage. Do you see me thanking soap for that?
Sameera:
Maybe you got lucky despite the washed tiffin. Imagine how high your credit score could’ve been if you’d left a bit of dal in it.
Ravi:
You’re incorrigible. Okay, tell me this—if the luck is in the leftover food, wouldn’t the ants be the luckiest creatures on Earth?
Sameera: (laughs)
Maybe that’s why they always know where to go!
Ravi:
Honestly, I think we should value kindness and intention over superstition. You appreciated my food. That’s what matters—not whether you return it dirty or sparkling.
Sameera: (smiling)
Fine. But just to be safe, I’m never washing your plate. I like how things are going.
Ravi:
And I’ll keep washing every plate I get. I like how my life is going too. Let’s just call it a truce?
Sameera:
Deal. But if you win the lottery, I’m mailing you back a lasagna dish with extra crust still stuck on.
Ravi:
Make sure it’s baked-on luck, not just baked-on cheese.
(They both laugh, sipping their chai as snowflakes dust the window outside.)

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