An ocean rolls on your tongue.
Its buttery smoothness surprises
you before the umami of salt
comes on and a mini tsunami
of horseradish punch lashes
the roof of your mouth and takes
your head on a spin around the universe.
You'd waited for this moment.
Sushi initiation with your
current beau, soon-to-be husband
at a South Delhi mall is heady
in more ways than one.
Years later, at your favourite
Japanese restaurant, you pick up
chopsticks from the table with the
faith and tentativeness of the devout.
This is a return to childhood.
Training your fingers motor skills they
never knew. The sticks wobble between
the webbing of your thumb and index finger.
Slowly they enclasp a nori roll.
You dip it into the soy-wasabi mix
and take a bite. The pungency shoots
up to the top of your head. You smile
at this full-circle attainment of nirvana
OMG! I wrote on 'chopsticks' today. I open DR and yours is the first poem that comes up! I love such poetic resonance!
ReplyDeleteThat is truly a lovely coincidence, Harvinder! Would love to read yours. :)
ReplyDeletewas just marvelling at the chopsticks' poetic meeting
ReplyDeleteIt did feel serendipitous, Charu. :)
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