Kitchen Of Abundance Poem by Madathil Rajendran Nair
Kitchen Of Abundance
Aroma of dosas being cooked
Chutney being garnished
Asafoetida boiling in the sambar mix
All emanate from my neighborhood
As I take my early morning strolls
Around our apartment complex
Unseen by me there is
A mother eager to pack lunch
For her son rushing for the six-thirty local
A wife her hair wrapped in towel
Still wet from bath
Filling her husband’s lunch box
With warmth and care
A child with slumberous eyes
Languorous yawns
Watching them hurry
Unwilling to get up and start
The daily morning chores
Mandatory before his school starts
Blessed are the households
Where the woman is taken for granted
The food is ready
With the aroma of life and love in it
A bachelor here I am
With no culinary skill
In the kitchen of abundance
Ruled by the unseen Mother
Roofed by the stars
Fumbling with unfamiliar utensils
Smelling the scent of food
The aroma of love and sweat
That permeates my neighborhood
Knowing for sure
That my steaming plate
Would be ready for me to devour
Around the turn of the hour
I don’t worry how it comes
For I am so sure
My Mother wouldn’t ever fail
Her unknowing ignorant son
For she is nothing but
So very much the sweating love itself
One often fail to appreciate the role that a woman plays as a mother and a wife. Lovely write.
Asafoetida boiling in samber mix and watching of child give nice humour to this poem. Wonderful composition.
Your poem so beautifully mixes the aroma of mouth watering Indian dishes with love and care of mothers and wives and it leaves an everlasting impression on the readers.
This poem is a wonderful fusion of all sensory perceptions, Of course, the sense smell is intense as it can wake up many molecules of memories. Nose is your witness Madathil. Beautiful poem
I could literally smell the aroma of dosas from your lines Enjoyed the word flow and your style of presentation. Thank you
The aroma permeating your neighbourhood that you inhale seems to be spilling out of your poem! It is so natural that certain smells incite certain memories! The smell of cooking is so intrinsically connected with thoughts about home fare cooked by a loving mother! Lovely poem!
Oh Dosa! What a dish, my favorite dish. Last year I was in Saudi Arabia, a few friends took me to a food street at Jeddah. They asked that what I would like to eat. I saw a South Indian restaurant and said Dosa. Since that night they started calling me Hazrat Dosa Alaihussalam. Your poem is delicious like dosa.............10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 11:20:25 AM # 1.0.0.1119
there is some understanding of people also in the poem with the aroma of a beautiful kitchen....good poem