May 10, 2011

Salt


It is not unlike salt,
My love for you.

It ‘s fine grains season and garnish,
But a lil extra, does spoil the trick.

It is even willing, for your sake,
To brave the skillet and flavour your life.

It stands proud and tall,
Behind mine eyes.

When you clasp my hand,
It breaks out in a cold sweat.

You tasted salt last,
When I passed it during supper,
Our fingers brushed askance,
I never felt happier.

2 comments:

vaidegi j said...

lovely! loved the first section, more! few thoughts that came up - being a very basic ingredient, does not have the coveted place it should, the absence of salt - the `beswad' state, and getting used to it, for 'health' reasons..
i know, have stripped ur piece of its poetic beauty and eloquence!! :)

drift wood said...

V:
I'm kinda thrilled u wrote that. You have read it correctly - salt is the most 'gharelu' ingredient, nothing exotic or magical abt it. But try to think of a life devoid of salt and you will understand love. :)
It's gratifying to discover a reader who intuits your thoughts. Thanks.