Saturday, February 17, 2018

Straight from kitchen

Of all those segments of our living
That we cling to morn till evening
Kitchen seems to be the only place sane
There you work and grind and I get to your plane
You put cardamom seeds and chilli flakes
I put cream and pineapple in milkshake
You make pastes of tamarind and ginger
I find how on your apron yellowish tinge lingers
And then when you shout seeing vegs useless
Rotten tomatoes you throw at me with rage,
I look at your cups held in two hands
They remind me of our honey filled lands
Where after our consummation we drank wine
You keep on grinding grains of rice fine,
Together we make our kitchen happy and wise
Together there we fall into silence and then rise
To meet our differences, our forlorn dreams
Kitchen noises and smells oft to our bedroom bring
Hunger and taste of plays that we gotten in our blood
Desserts what we  make dropping lemon juice in curd
Adding a bit of salt and sugar into it
Food what we make to live, to love and to eat.



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