#285: Something's cooking!
“Sometimes, love looks like small things.” -Tracy K. Smith
My dear reader,
It’s been a long phase of delirious dreams, body aches and high fever. Dengue is now an epidemic in Karnataka, and every household seems to be nursing someone back to health.
As I slowly find my way back to work (and to Bombay for an exciting project), I’d like to celebrate the small things that nurture. Like the hot bowl of soup with every vegetable imaginable, healing with each sip. Or the slow roasted tomatoes in the oven that taste like home. Or the joy of finally cleaning the kitchen counter after you’re done cooking, before turning off the light for the night.
Memories on a Plate, a book dear to me, is coming back in stock soon. While I’ll definitely be sending out a whole newsletter with more details, I invite you into what I’ve been reading and cooking up to share with all of you.
Poetry Corner
1. Coffee First by Dory Hudspeth
The day begins with order
and quiet, broken
only by the small ringing
of the spoon against coffee mug.
If this small ritual goes well,
no spilling, no drips,
there is hope for the day.
2. September by Linda Pastan
Their summer romance
over, the lovers
still cling
to each other
the way the green
leaves cling
to their trees
in the strange heat
of September, as if
this time
there will be
no autumn.
3. Ode to Hunger by Zeina Hashem Beck
How I crave the strawberries
we bought on a road
in Cyprus the day we got married.
Their scent was divine & we forgot
to eat them.
4. Pajama Days by Joanna Zarkadas
Here’s to pajama days,
And the people who celebrate them.
Here's to comfort over style,
Uncombed hair and faces without makeup.
Hats off to reading all day
Or binge watching the latest Netflix series.
Kudos to cold pizza for breakfast,
Or hot buttered popcorn for dinner.
Blue ribbons for long phone conversations with friends,
And lazy couch lounging by the fire.
Gold medals for forgetting about ""to do"" lists,
Bathrooms that need cleaning,
Or bills that need paying.
Cheers to taking a day off every now and again
Without remorse, without guilt, without judgment.
High fives to sometimes doing whatever you want,
When you want, and
Eating whatever suits your fancy,
No matter the carb count or sugar content.
Here’s to pajama days,
And a round of applause for those who know they deserve them!
5. On How To Pick And Eat Poems by Phyllis Cole-Dai
Stop whatever it is you’re doing.
Come down from the attic.
Grab a bucket or a basket and head for light.
That’s where the best poems grow, and in the dappled dark.
Go slow. Watch out for thorns and bears.
When you find a good bush, bow
to it, or take off your shoes.
Pluck. This poem. That poem. Any poem.
It should come off the stem easy, just a little tickle.
No need to sniff first, judge the color, test the firmness.
You’ll only know it’s ripe if you taste.
So put a poem upon your lips. Chew its pulp.
Let its juice spill over your tongue.
Let your reading of it teach you
what sort of creature you are
and the nature of the ground you walk upon.
Bring your whole life out loud to this one poem.
Eating one poem can save you, if you’re hungry enough.
Take companions poem-picking when you can.
Visit wild and lovely and forgotten places, broken
and hidden and walled up spaces. Reach into bramble,
stain your skin, mash words against your teeth, for love.
And always leave some poems within easy reach
for the next picker, in kinship with the unknown.
If you ever carry away more than you need,
go on home to your kitchen, and make good jam.
Don’t be in a rush, they’re sure to keep.
Some will even taste better with age,
a rich batch of preserves.
Store up jars and jars of jam. Plenty for friends.
Plenty for the long, howling winter. Plenty for strangers.
Plenty for all the bread in this broken world.
Links of the Week
COVID-19 COLLECTIVE DREAM JOURNAL (A record of dreams and hallucinations experienced by the People of the World during the coronavirus pandemic.)
Letters Anonymous is an online platform for people to submit their letters anonymously.
Wesley Verhoeve, whose newsletter I adore, recently released Process Work Book, with 30 practical assignments and prompts to help you see the world differently.
Reminded me of The Art of Noticing with Rob Walker
Poetry Workshop Alert
Bangalore, I’ll be conducting a Patchwork Poetry workshop at Museum of Art and Photography, Bangalore, next Saturday (14th September), 3pm to 5pm. 🙅🏻♀️
The workshop aims to create a space to reflect, rewrite and reclaim narratives through poetry and art. Join us for an afternoon of play, wandering and self-expression to explore what it means to be seen, and make visible our sense of self in a safe space.
This event is conceptualised under our exhibition VISIBLE/INVISIBLE: Representation of Women in Art through the MAP Collection, and seeks to encourage engagement on themes of visibility, power, vulnerability and self-expression through writing formats like ekphrastic, blackout and patchwork poetry. The activities are designed to explore inner worlds and bring your voices to the forefront.
Sign up here: https://map-india.org/map-events/patchwork-poetry/
“No one who cooks, cooks alone. Even at her most solitary, a cook in the kitchen is surrounded by generations of cooks past, the advice and menu of cooks present, the wisdom of cookbook writers.”
-Laurie Colwin
Wishing you a September full of familiar flavours and deliciousness,
Rohini
wishing you a speedy recovery and thank you, as always, for all the inspiring poems.