somedays,

i am my own eeyore. 

you know, sighing. moping. drooping. 

sighing again.

raining on my own parade,

like the rains i heard were not enough!

can't bear to hear myself.

so, i took it upon myself

to inhale in the pleasant

and comforting aroma of some tea.

add to that, the uplifting tang 

of some lemongrass i bought 

on my Friday jaunt

to the roadside farmer's market.

this is called gauti chai masala,
or, literally, village chai masala,
said the lady selling them,
crushing a bit with her fingers
and bringing it to her nose,
nodding at me to do the same.
she told me to make tea as follows...

.. and, as i inhale deeply, 

my fingers let the warmth

from the hot cup seep into my weary muscles.

 my mind is on mute,

my legs are numb.

let me sit here in lemony -gingery solace,

bracing myself for a new week

that starts tomorrow.

PS

tea. after a long time.

light profound, light sublime

    

Thursdays

are the day of leftovers. find what's edible in the fridge, use it up, wipe and clean if necessary. though, the last phrase is absolutely not compulsory. also, a good time to make inventories about what to buy, and, pointers at what not to buy. *tries to wipe away memories of the rotting things*

but, i will not be able to shake away the sinking of my heart at the debates, the outrage and the footage of a seventeen year old being molested, groped, humiliated by a mob! the sneering. the helplessness. the horror of it all. makes me think of all the times i have walked on the streets at night, for pediatric crocin, glitter, sharpener, eggs, anything i needed urgently early next morning and had forgotten to buy. 

could it be that i was not harassed, or molested or raped simply because i was not. it could have happened, but it did not. could that be the explanation for my safety, because there is no guarantee, not from the police, not from the people passing by, faceless, nameless, heartless. and, why should they or anyone else risk being another Keenan and reuben. of course, you remember the brave hearts, don't you?

the media has moved on. how much will i hold on to! so, after a quickie clean up and list making i am set for my weekly dose of the streets nearby and the deliciously hot and inviting breakfast after a robust haggling session and walk. tensions ebb away. the food goes into my stomach, the taste makes me giddy and there i sit for a good hour, maybe more.

last Thursday, if found two lemons in a huge plastic bag in a corner of the fridge and a recipe with just two lemons and six eggs, which was all i had. it was a sign and i take them seriously. it was the first time, i was going about a cake as elaborate as this. i was very mindful. and, it was so worth the effort, time and the decision to make it :)

PS

the recipe