Lekhny Story -22-Sep-2024

Title: Cooking Dinner with Mom: An Epic Poem Author : Dr. Sree Varshini R Genre: Epic Poem

In the heart of our home, where warmth does reside, Mom stands by the stove, her arms open wide. The sun sinks low, casting a golden hue, As evening calls forth, with much work to do.

The kitchen hums softly with pots in their place, Spices and herbs give the air a sweet grace. "Come, child," she beckons with a smile so bright, "Tonight, we cook dinner—let’s get it just right!"

I stand at her side, apron tied with care, The scent of onions already fills the air. She hands me a knife with a nod of the head, "Chop the vegetables, while I work on the bread."

The rhythm of chopping echoes through the room, With every cut, the meal starts to bloom. Carrots and peppers, all colors and hues, Fall into place, creating a vibrant stew.

Mom moves like magic, with seasoned delight, Her hands blend the spices with instinctive might. A pinch of salt, a dash of clove, Her knowledge, a treasure trove.

"Stir the pot slowly," she says with a wink, "Cooking is patience, more than you think." I watch her work with such graceful ease, A culinary dance, meant to please.

We laugh as the steam rises thick in the air, The kitchen feels cozy, like love’s everywhere. She talks about recipes from years long past, How her mother taught her, traditions to last.

The dough in her hands, soft and round, Is kneaded with care, without a sound. She shapes it, smooth, with practiced grace, Then slides it in the oven, warmth on her face.

The sizzle of oil, the bubbling broth, All blend together like a silken cloth. The dinner we craft is more than a meal, It’s a bond of love, something real.

I ask her why cooking feels so serene, She smiles, "It’s the love you put in between. Each stir, each taste, each added spice, Is what makes this moment feel so nice."

The minutes roll by, and soon it’s done, Dinner is ready, the battle won. The table is set with care and pride, As we sit together, side by side.

Mom serves the meal with a gentle touch, And in each bite, it says so much. The flavors burst forth, warm and divine, A reminder of her love, forever mine.

As we eat, we share stories of the day, Laughter and memories, come what may. Cooking with Mom is more than just food, It’s where love, joy, and life all include.

So here we sit, our hearts aglow, A family united in the warmth we know. For cooking dinner with Mom, it’s clear, Is the sweetest moment we hold dear.

And as the night draws its curtain low, The kitchen rests, with a gentle glow. But in the silence, a truth shines through— Cooking with Mom is forever true.

With every meal, a story’s told, Of love, tradition, pure and bold. In the warmth of the kitchen’s sacred light, Cooking with Mom makes everything right.

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© Dr. Sree Varshini R