Durian, the tropical fruit,
Delicious to eat,
But not to smell.
As its rind exude,
Atrocious stench,
May make you faint.
Prof Rebecca, our Thai friend,
Had created taste in our mind,
With a warning grind,
To keep it off,
The hotel bound.
Furthered by such warning,
A transcending mind hunted,
For the strange fruit,
In the by-lanes of Thai Market.
All my friends desisted,
But instinctive self persisted,
Finally noticed pouches,
Yellow stuff double wrapped,
Twenty Baht each packet.
Picked a packet in scurry,
Unwrapped it in hurry,
Moved to a deserted spot,
To relish the apparent taste.
Putting the fruit in my mouth,
Closed eyes and nose both,
The cousine of jack fruit,
Went down like gloop.
A sacred joy suffused,
From toe to the head,
Making oblivious,
To the smelly rind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem