Unseasoned

Humna Mirza

The melted ghee formed a snake pass
covering the base of the pan,
segregating us in this westernised world.

Gifts of silver; a leaf from Kalkotta,
I place this on top of the Khir.
Aromas from the past.

Testing the landscape,
customs of my father’s country.
The taste of chilli on my tongue.

At the bottom of the pan,
lies the flags of my culture,
Dhania, Haldi, Cayenne and Paprika.

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