/Ingredients/

sunlight, a generous splash

the gentle simmer of bhajans

vegetables, greenhoused

             in Melbourne

an ancestral pantry, pulsing

             with pulses, nuts, aata

             and sundry

the (e)motions of mortar-and-pestles

the sturdiness of a tawa

extended-family-sized pots, multiple

her pista barfi, un-substitutable

tides of tea

             and waves of hasee, optional

             but inevitable



/Method/

Walk into an air of aromatics

Kiss her as she balloons roti

Sense your pupils burgeon at

             golden dhal silked with ghee

             coppery pumpkin beauty-spotted with mustard seeds

             and on the centre hob, bubbling like a boss, vermilion chicken curry

             jewelled with cloves and cardamon pods

Beware: at the reveal of her cassava chips, childhood will rise

to the surface. Munch immediately

to avoid the burst. Now you’re primed for her sill life request:

             three heirloom tomatoes, a purple onion, fresh coriander

             and the obligatory green chilli

Slot into your teenage role and chop your answer into a bowl. Now you’re ready

to eat with your bare hand. Beware: this method activates the lineage

of love. Preserve it with jaggery and salt.