Mother and memories

Mother,

Do you remember those summer nights?

We would lie under the stars

On the Charpai in the aangan?

You would urge me to look for shooting stars

And prod me to wish upon one.

I did that.

I was young, I believed in magic.

But, more than magic, I believed in you Maa.

 

Mother,

Do you remember hot summer noons

Redolent

With the Smell of pungent ingredients?

I remember.

I remember you and your assortment of implements

Peeling, cutting, and chopping up the raw produce.

Those few days of summer, the whole house

Smelled of spices and masala.

How I miss those smells now.

But, more than the smells I miss that time with you.

About Sonal Singh

I believe that life is a repertoire of anecdotes. The various situations that we encounter, the many incidents of every day, the people we meet, our conversations with them; all make life a melange of tales. And, that is what I attempt to capture through my writing. My cooking is no different! It reflects my love for travel and my love for innovation. The kitchen is my happy place. So, even though by vocation I am a recruiter (www.rianplacements.com), by passion I am a writer, home chef and a hodophile.

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