by prasanna   May 4, 2022

of light, of love—twined together by the turmeric yellow thread
of time, there is little to be said, little to be offered apart
from breaking bread, and making a feast from leftovers—
cooking is transformative, how else does love transpire?
to stare at rice-flour, add a little salt, pour boiling
water over it, let it cool before breaking it up into
little clumps with an old tin-can, crack open a
coconut, grate it, and then layer the little clumps of
flour with coconut, and let it gently steam for about
ten minutes, and serve with either something sweet
or savoury—you have ripe mango on hand, so you
pair it with that. making something from nothing,
that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?


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Latest Comments

  • 2 weeks ago

    by Shruti

    Your poem is as delicious as Mambazha Puttu!