Make a culinary mistake,
pay with a galley of sorrowful ache.
Let the milk spill over,
forced to clean the whole counter,
and yet a streak of cream would remain,
to become ant army’s lunch course main.
Forget to simmer and stir the sauce,
end up dipping the fries in black pots.
Spread the batter on a pan not so hot,
war between pan, batter and maker is fought.
Try to clean the stubborn char that is settled,
the requirements of a gym for the arm muscles are fulfilled.
Heat the milk too sharp to prepare curd,
resulting in a cheesy white mass tasting absurd.
Make the error of letting the cooker shout till parched,
and suddenly everyone declares a day-long fast.
Move away from the baking tray’s line of vision,
you get burnt-out cakes from the oven.
Try giving the tea an extra flavoursome boil,
it gushes out from the kettle like a volcano in turmoil.
Mix two pulses of a visually similar kind,
separating them with a patience human is yet to find.
By a chanced Midas touch if it were to cumulatively cook,
might end up authoring a new recipe book.
In a place where ‘affairs of the stomach’ are created,
there are a few stories of follies that can be narrated.
Sreeyantha is a person who sees the world in all the colours of the rainbow. A creative homemaker who wishes to capture the universe’s beauty in poems, paintings and short essays. You can read a collection of her poems here.