Hey! never hold just release and let yourself free, so free...

All pressure released!

Not a foodie.

And kitchen didn't interest me before 

-a decade and half ago.

Neither wet my fingers,

as nails shouldn't go pale-

After cleaning of utensils.

But slowly and slowly I creeped in,

Like a toddler.

Familiarizing myself with different masalas.

The salt and sugar bottles never interchanged.

From the morning coffee to evening tea-

Took enough applause.

Later breakfast to lunch -

Lunch to dinner -

All had a touch of mine .

And without me it wouldn't be complete.

And I patted myself -

Well and off daily.

Or who else would do that?

Some called me a biriyani expert.

Some called me a porotta expert.

Some called me quite good at beef roast.

Some called me good in pickles.

Some called me good in veg cusines.

But none called me, I myself am good.

So I patted myself daily.

And every once in a while.

Surprisingly, my deserts decorated the table-

More to my existence.

To the home I belonged to.

But which didn't belong to me.

But I repeated the same, year after year.

For all worthy business.

And I patted myself, 

Every once in a while.

Good job!

And a day, I slowly walked away-

From where I didn't belong to.

The taps there didn't wet me more.

Neither did I hear the whistle blows of the pressure cookers.

And finally all pressure released!

And there came the day.

I simply walked away,

Leaving all worthy business-

And I patted myself again.

:Parvathy Ramachandran