World within world
There is a little shop in my city, Kolkata. Hidden behind a school for juniors. My friend discovered it. Let’s go! He said.
There is entire world, screened, in every cosmopolitan city. The world with its variant cultures and food habits. Food can cross boundaries; win heart; reign rival countries.
We found sac kavurma in that little shop. It was named “open oven”. We misread it as “Open heaven”. The name sticks in our memory.
Turkish sun cannot be this harsh. I remarked while devouring the meat, the sauce and vegetables.
Which sun? Partho, my friend said.
I realized, I am glowing with the blissful ingestion.
Meat of love
A vagrant kiss entwines my tongue; leaves a taste
of orient wrapped in west.
My left fingers search blindly
for a device to defuse the Turkish sun
as my tongue plays love with food;
the vegetables, the meat;
as the rolled and spiced Sac kavurma enters
in my planet waiting for
a rain to obliterate
a valley of lonely travelers walking.
© all rights are reserved by Kushal Poddar, 2010
Sagely vegetables
Sniffing nose looks so nice, vulnerable like
the pink rabbit my sister had; I never
acknowledged its life till it died leaving us
in a lake of salt.
Mother’s sniffing nose picks out the novelty
of the vegetables. A fresh aliment
is being cooked in her mind, rather sautéed.
A bird watches us.
A family praying with knives, forks and spoons
before the sagely vegetables who tell
us what is the importance of sacrifice.
© all rights are reserved by Kushal Poddar, 2010
