Bengal Flavour

Her own fire and spice tempered to the warmth to soothe cold hands and hunger pangs. She gently flaunts her seasoned mild with a subtle reminder of her sparks, as if to a husband. Like the pallu which could flutter wild in the wind, but comes around and rests on her shoulder instead.
She accepts the zing in mustard, like rebellion in a daughter. She blends and binds it with the mellow taste of home, with such tender loving authority. She boasts of the excessive sweetness of her desserts, like the virtues of a son.
And you can taste the lineage and family in all the varied suitors on the platter wooing your taste buds. Like the keys of varied shapes and jingles fastened securely to her pallu. Born to differ and bred to belong!

You'll get me home

Since you melted our roof
and poured it down
the addicted throat
of the seductive world

Since you bartered our home
in the foul market
of all that glitters
and whores and gold

I loiter tasting seasons
broken and destitute
baring love to weather
ruminating faith, blurry

When I near those ruins
I'll have you wait
by that lone door
I'll have you listen
to catch my footsteps
I'll be relief
to your forlorn eyes
"Honey, where have you been?"
you'll say to me then
"It's been so long
I was beginning to worry!"

Scribbles

One day she went and brutally chopped off her mane just to see if her beauty would still be looked upon as majestic. As the weight of it fell away from her being, she felt light, different, crippled and scared. She looked in the mirror to find some sort of notorious pixie staring back at her. Yes, her short cropped ends made her dimples more visible, made her look strangely younger and gave her the air of a loving brat. She also somehow managed to retain a mysterious hint of majestic somewhere in her eyes....so it had never been in her mane. She was beginning to feel a tiny swing in the step she was about to take off of her chair. She turned around with that joy steering her.

But that. That is when she saw the mane at her feet, her heart broke and it left her out of breath before she could think. It used to ride the winds, that mane..That Mane....that mane sang of unspoken power...and now it lay limp on the ground like a defeatist prey awaiting its lowly fate. And she had hacked it away from her body. Her breath slowly came back now as her handicap sunk in...a majestic handicap!