Sunday morn, just another

This Sunday morning I am browsing the net as usual and my wife is pottering around in the kitchen, again as usual. Every other week, especially if she has a busy week ahead, she prepares a batch of tadka/chaunk in advance. If not salted these stay for quite some time in the fridge and saves a lot of time in preparation of dishes after a long day at work.

Another facet is the passion with which she goes about this activity, despite having done the same thing hundreds of times before.

As I was ruminating over her kitchen dance, the following words came to my mind, to the tune of Time (Pink Floyd)! Go figure.

Anyways here’s a mini ode to my beautiful and passionate wife.

Slaving away the moments that make up a Sunday,
sweating away over the stove, tempering her way;
Swishing around the onions till they fade out,
Till finally the oil leaves the ballet.

And now the aroma wafts all over,
While she smiles with satisfaction;
Tadka is ready, will be packed when cooled,
And that makes her week’s backup ration.

No one told her this needs be done,
Just her own passion!

End mini ode

And then I sat me down to eat ๐Ÿ˜›


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