Those sultry summer vacation days, 

When all cousins got together

And played throughout the day. 

None cared about rest or food, 

As playing was the only thing good. 

 

At the evening fell, and birsa retreated, 

We, the hungry mortals dragged ourselves, 

Into the big dining room where we were to be seated. 

The arrangement was unique, 

Oh! Memorable ’twas indeed. 

 

Granny at the center,

With a big bowl of curd rice, 

And we all around her,

Like the masala coating a lemon. 

Bowls of pickles bordered us, 

Lemon, mango to name a few. 

 

A dollop of curd rice, 

Shone bright on our palms, 

With a pickle topping of our choice, 

Oh! This remained the icing on the

Vacation cake that we enjoyed. 

 

Those moments are still fresh, 

In our minds, 

And rarely needs a refresh, 

As even now as I gobble up, 

My rice and pickle, 

The circle of cousins flashes through my mind.