A limbo-esque afternoon was rolling up reluctantly into a warm
& dusty evening
While a crabby granny was losing her serenity over a bunch
of kids, still dreaming
The sun sieved a delicate pattern of shadows through a giant
mango tree canopy
As Mangali & Budhwa locked their horns in a friendly
bout to shake off some ennui
T’was time to drag out the belaboured, carbon clad earthen
pot into the backyard
& prepare the clay fireplace for the euphonious pop with
inherited skill and guard
She called out to them, hailed & hollered, but the little
brats held on to their chaser
Finally, a splash of icy water on their faces got them to
get up & sprint out for cover
In no time the fire was lit with the ceremonial pot perching
pompously on top of it
Even as a pair of feet rushed to the store to fetch the
prized sack of golden corn bit
The children hunkered around the fire as their humped
magician threw in a handful
Eagerly waiting to catch the first explosion & take in the
warm aroma by the soulful
It had the coarseness of mud & the calidity of sand with
a smoky taste of the wood
Even though it seeped in our hearts like milk in water, it
left a dint like no one could
Years later, stepping out of my office, a subtle trail left
me spell bound on the spot
& I slowly realised that it was the same fragrance that had
elated me as a kid, a lot
In a whiff I relived those moments of childhood bursting
with wonder & simplicity
Not wanting to shake off this beautiful illusion where I wanted to be in perpetuity
But it left me feeling wistful & forlorn, as if I had
woken up from a beautiful dream
As if I couldn’t recall the very page of the book where I
had left reading in between
There have been many afternoons since, but few sans any baggage,
my mind warns
Many epicurean recipes devoured but no one even near to those
magical popcorns !!