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Prabhakar Subramaniam


Omelette Girl


For someone from
An orthodox family
With strong food taboos
She was strangely
Fond of eggs
In any form - -
Bull's-eye, scrambled,
Half-boiled, full-boiled or omelettee - -
However, none of us
Was guilty of
Forcing anything upon her
It was out of her own free will
She became a 'sinner'
Once on a visit
She asked me
What I was eating
When I told her
She wanted to taste one herself
Not before extracting
A solemn promise on my favourite deity
Not to tell her family, neighbours or friends - -
It was funny to watch her
Tucking into the moon-shaped,
Hot, brown, onion and chilli-mixed delicacy
With a gourmet's delight;
She soon became an addict
Began to visit us frequently
Sometimes with genuine reasons
Often solely for the mouth-watering dish;
After every religious 'infringement'
She washed her hands religiously
Rather liberally with my soap
Then borrowed a piece of jaggery
To mask the offensive smell
Like some seasoned secret smoker;
I do not know if she graduated
To hardcore poultry
Fell deeper into 'sin'
Earned more 'bad karma'
And slipped down the food chain
As she would have been taught to believe.

Submitted: Thursday, August 22, 2013
Edited: Friday, August 23, 2013

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