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"sambar" poems
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?
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Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 9:17 AM UTC
Two (or three) boys.
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?
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Telanjang bersebaran di permadani Mencari memanisan di setiap bagian Lekas sambar reremahan itu Tak terhingga, Tak merasa Perkasa namun serakah Wahai Tuan-Ku, Sang Kekal Apa Hamba orang lalai ? Manis Hamba terasa sepai Menanti Azab Sang Khalik
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May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 11:50 AM UTC
Hamba
In the city of Mumbai When you want food and now You reach out to grab The glorious vada pao A round golden ball Filled of potatoes n spice You have one and you are reminded Of all things good & nice The great Equalizer Liked by all, big or small Have it with chutney or chili Whether you live in a bunglow or a chawl Dip it in sambar or stuff it in a pao Have it any way You will only say "wow" I had one today I ate it with glee I have realised like all mumbaikars The vada pao is meant for me!
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Sep 10, 2017
Sep 10, 2017 at 1:12 AM UTC
The Song of the Vada Pao
Hush descended on the birds of the valley a horned owl hooted on the hill above me emerged from the mist a pale blue moon you know in the jungle the night comes soon! Nocturne shimmered expectant still the king had arrived to claim his **** his shadow moved with a low mutter growl stopped in its hoot the lone horned owl! Thirty feet below neath the yawning screen on the big oak the tallest on ravine it so seemed but only a few pace within the reach of the king’s embrace! The two only knew who were in the war one to be witnessed by the langur sambar cries of caution they all would sing not least bothered arrived the king! On its track stopped the wind afraid as the risen moon showed the king’s head his paws advanced eyes fixed on me for three days the king was going hungry! Licking his **** he took an apple bite birds took flight night froze in fright to shoulder must raise my rifle on knees while the king ate his dinner in peace! His eyes glimmered in pleasure’s full glow my fingers closed and inched up slow but what I did over the valley rang out cupping my hands gave a full throated shout! It echoed in the hill such loud was the blare the king ran for life with his tail in the air and so long he lived couldn’t recover from daze of being driven by a weakling out of village!
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Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 8:52 AM UTC
An encounter with the King: A humble tribute to Jim Corbett