I walk about
With my vulnerability
Barely covered in tentative dresses
The tremble of thick and soft but firm pink lips
Inviting remark upon its contrast
With the somewhat exaggerated horn rims
Of my all but cosmetic glasses
Perhaps you would hand me a glass of still water
At room temperature , and a cherry or a plum
I have reluctantly said no to lavender
But a pale , very pale , saffron may just about disturb the universe
To the very tiny extent that I want it to shift
To make room for my voice of sweet reasonableness
And endearing whimsy
Before it gets comfortable again
Pleased with me for making it ever so comfortably uncomfortable
That it will invite me again and again
To beautiful silky places
With delicately delicious food
And scented listeners
I must to Bruges next
For the lace
Where I shall ever so outrageously
Mention Mango pickle
In turmeric and mustard oil
Redolent of asofeotida
( Amita Sarjit Ahluwalia )
Nostalgic! “Where I shall ever so outrageously
Mention Mango pickle
In turmeric and mustard oil
Redolent of asofeotida.”
Thank you , Jasbir Singh Romana . Yes , indeed , for many of us , Mango Pickle smells of home !
A lively and intriguing work full of self-deprecating intonations and an aristocratic mien.
Thank you , Louis Kasatkin. Yes , my narrator is a bit of a mystery woman