Hey! Have you seen me kids?
Well, I guess no.
Let me tell you my story,
I am sure you will know me more.

Passed down from generations,
I carried memories
And emotions in plenty,
Alongside the spices.

The angry and anguish,
Were vented out
When the mustard spluttered
In the hot oil.

Chilli, salt and other spices
Added flavour to the dish,
And, to the gossip that
The women had in the kitchen.

I kept secrets,
Of every hand that carassed me.
I also safeguarded the money,
That the lady hid from her man.

Shining steel, my body was,
And I housed many members.
Rightly called the Kitchen Queen,
I was always the prized possession.

Pic Courtesy : Kamala Iyer