Some place
Some time
There was a tea shop.
Open not just in the mornings,
But at noon and the evenings too.
Mornings, the menu read
Uzhunnuvada, idli,dosa,
Uppuma, vellayappam,idiyappam,
Sambar, payaru curry,kadala
And several chatnis.
Noon, the menu read
Aviyal,achinga,pachadi,
Kichadi,pulisseri,thoran,achar,
And several kinds of buttermilk.
Evenings, the menu read
Sukhiyan, bonda,
Pazhampori, parippu vada, mulaguvada,
Diluted milk, black coffee
And several forms of tea.
There was a cook in that tea shop.
There was an owner for that tea shop.
Both had a son each.
Those boys went to the same school.
They studied in the same class.
They sat on the same bench.
Whenever he was hungry,
One of the boys thought of
The owner of that tea shop.
Eyes widening with admiration for
The great man that he was!
He could eat anything
Whenever he was hungry,
Reaching for it in the container
Or poking his head into the food shelf
Or entering the kitchen itself.
He could take anything,
The boy salivated.
To the query “What do you want to be?”,
He even replied once that
He wanted to be that man.
But, whenever he was hungry,
The other boy thought of
The cook in that tea shop.
He lauded him in awe of
the great man that he was.
He could cook and eat
Anything any time any quantity,
He imagined jealously.
To the query “What do you want to be?”,
He even replied once that
He wanted to be that man.
Wait, don’t leave yet,
Dusting off your bottom
After reading an average poem.
Sighing indepthly
Or grunting lazily
Or belching sourly.
You are free to leave after
Answering a few questions.
Who owns this tea shop actually?
These schoolboys from the tea shop,
Whose sons are they actually?
There is another boy
Besides these two
In this poem!
Who is he?
By Kuzhur Wilson
Trans by Ra Sh
