The Ballad of Doodhwati

Rainy , dull monsoon days in Mumbai , with Wimbledon happening, and all that excitement gets you hungry enough to pine for a hot paneer bhurji with a toast or paratha. 

My friend Magiceye, actually gets to eat  all this , which of course, he photographs and posts here .

A living example, of how wonderful things can happen to very ordinary types like Milk (Doodhwati), and that one must never give up trying and looking ahead in life.

The curdled milk would "whole"heartedly agree. (Note : "Whole" milk makes better Paneer)

A Distressed Doodhwati,
restlessly boiling,
all her enthusiasm
simply soured
by the lemony antics,
and utter chaos reigns,
as her bosom friend,
Whey Kumar,
decides to separate
leaving her totally
curdled and coagulated in misery.

But most things happen for the good.

And so she
is delicately wrapped
in a fresh white muslin cloth,
gathered together and comforted,
till the tears stop
and
she feels strong and solid again .

A strong and cheerful girl,
Doodhwati is ready to enjoy life again.

Hot griddles with oil,
calling out to
the item number onions,
and tomatoes,
doing their stuff
as the chillies and bay leaves
sizzle in support.
"me, too, me too "
says the ginger and the garlic,
avidly joining in
the dance,
with the  Turmeric Man,
and the Coriander Greens
and Doodhwati,
all
throwing in their lot
in the celebrations,
with the elderly Salt , Pepper
and Masala types
as they stir themselves
in a wild disco
on the high heat.

A little bit of catching the breath
on a low flame,
covered by conservative worried
grandlids,
and she finally emerges,
adorned,
spiced,
shining
and lipsmackingly beautiful.

She arrives,
to meet a waiting paratha
watched by the Whey Kumar ,
now sitting in a boring Jar.

"You were never like this earlier"
says the possessive Whey Kumar,
"What changed ?"
and she smiled
as she got caught by the Parathaa,
and said,
"No one's really born beautiful,

but scrambling freely with one's friends

makes one so ...." 

:-))