Dosa

7 PM, the night is rising,

Coaching class has ended, yet

The treatment and causes of cancer,

Still roam around in mind.

Tiredness found this place.

The sizzling delicacies,

The rich aroma,

The warm cloud of air,

The hectic state,

All entered senses with the first step.

Looked around with control of eyes,

Trying to spot an empty seat.

(Picked up the menu)

After a second,

"Bhaiya! Ek Butter masala dosa laga do"

Hunger had taken control,

And the overpowering smell,

Only made matters worse.

The cold smell of gritty textured coconut chutney,

And the warm, yet little sweet with curry leaf sambar.

A heavy bag was beside me.

Reminding the bitter taste, of

The stress and responsibilities.

Yet, the hectic and busy place provided comfort.

As if it were to say "Eat up, don't think for now".

The wait felt calm.

I allowed my eyes to wander off.

The table was not well-cleaned,

The tissue papers were not stocked,

The paint was chipping off.

Shoes, clothes, hair, accessories and

Faces of all kinds, analyzed and judged in one glance.

A smile adorned my face, as it saw a little girl

Waving her small hand.

Returning the wave I saw my order.

The dosa really was flooded with butter.

The crispy edges cracked on my touch.

Fingertips felt the warm greasy butter.

Nose smelled a hint of spice.

Then, I ate.

Dipping the pieces in sambar, with chutney.

Everything melted, no flavor overpowered the other.

It all fit together deliciously.

The transition of crisp to soft from edges to center.

It all fit together.

A long sigh exhaled my lungs.

My hunger was quenched.

My mental energy was recharged

And I was ready.

To go home.

A.V