Kitchen mine cited varieties
Recipes, utensils, strange personalities
And Pathamadai Parvathi..
Matted her tresses to a lulling shine
Out with her freckles and pimples
Powdering talcum on a tantrum
Eye lining into the mirror
At a whir of every possible minute
In my absence..
Cooked my anger; ate my temper
Old Parvathi paatti next
Chithi patti for everybody
Of tonsured wedlock in yester pathos
A needy helper
To cook off my in- laws' diabetes
Cooked, ate, drank
Cooked, ate, drank
Often and nasty
Hardship towed me
Timely bruised by my paralysed m'-in-law too
Fortune eloped with chithi patti
Misfortune betrothed me
Hell of two months..
Parvthi paatti back
For a pay through her nose
gives interesting read...'shades' seen so common in many south indian homes...10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Cooked my anger; ate my temper' What a TRIBUTE for someone who was the cynocure of all your fortunes..........! Pattis and chithis hapen to be the ANGELS in our lives, and evoke everything ANGELIC in us........... Illeya......... AkkA......!