I guess, I have biscuits on my mind lately 🙂 Here is a little inspired poem about that biscuit, which has found love over generations…
When you prodded me to try dipping
Parle G’s in the warm glass of milk
and relish the soggy biscuit ,
I realised I was savouring what used to be you years ago.
Your Mother mixed warm milk
in those biscuits and mashed
them together in a cereal bowl
feeding you mush and humble dreams for breakfast.
But you were sharp-
you noticed the girl who gazed from the paper wrapping
– whose hair were short , unlike yours-
which were tightly tied in two side long pigtails
– like life itself.
All of 7,
did you aspire for her wonder or her freedom?
One day you decided to chase both.
Defiance was easy
– it simply meant packing bags,
swearing never to comeback
and slamming the door!
At 17 it all seemed so easy,
you stayed hungry
but always broke …despite the scholarship.
It was water and those biscuits for dinner
college crap for lunch
and her prayers that kept
The only place that held trees
was the Grave Yard,
your favourite haunt in the soulless city
that was so far removed from the little town of your youth.
Ten years on and still there was so much to prove
and so much to punish her for-
with your absence.
There was no love lost.
And yet you found love
lingering near a Cedar
when father discretely placed
flowers and that small packet of biscuits
on his mothers gravestone.
Your curiosity was aroused.
You asked him out for Tea.
And the rest was history.
Still , many more moons were to pass
till that first day of Spring
that brought a call which finally thawed
the frozen silences of twenty years.
You- her only blood
& the only one who could save her
with yours – drove 500 miles
to do so , with me in tow,
in the back seat of your car
and a boot full of regrets.
She was only waiting to open
her eyes and see you
sitting next to her
which you did all night
sobbing as I –
all of 7 slept
on a couch in her hospital
The nurse brought you a
a warm glass of milk
and a packet of Parle G’s
which you instantly ripped apart
and mashed them in the glass
just like she did – un hesitatingly
and fed her love that finally found
its way home .
Picture : Shutterstock