Kakatiya University English Semester- 3. The Kitchen : Vimala I remember the kitchen’s , Flavor upon flavor, A mouthwatering treasury, Pungence of seasonings, And the aroma of incense From the prayer room Next door. Each morning the kitchen awoke To the swish of churning butter The scraping of scoured pots. And in the center, the stove, Fresh washed with mud, painted And bedecked, all set to burn. We saved secret money in the seasoning box, hid sweets too, and played at cooking with lentils and We played Mother and Father, In the magic world of kitchen That wrapped childhood in its spell. No longer playground for the grown up girl Now trained into kitchenhood. Like all the mothers and mothers’ mothers Before her, in the kitchen She becomes woman right here. Our kitchen is a mortuary, Pans, tins, gunny bags Crowd it like cadavers That hang amid clouds of damp wood smoke. Mother float...
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