Tuesday, November 25, 2008

The heady scent of ground cinnamon, cardamom, cloves. Tej patta, coriander, pepper, and then some spices I don’t quite know the names of, but the notes fit in some place in the memory lingers, though I cut it fine this morning.

Sunday evening, at the wedding function. The father died a few months back, a heart attack, a shock for all. The mother shook off her grief, insisted life go on, and then his best friends took over, taking the function to a state of flawless execution. A crisp salute.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

and that makes me wonder about friends on social networks :)

Anonymous said...

Yes, one has to step in.

Isn't it astounding that and how we remember scents and what memories they cause?

austere said...

manu- there is a grade of a difference, no? and a world of a difference.

mago- took me a while to grind the spices, but what a heavenly start to the day!

Arunima said...

oh!

My mother lost her mom and her brother 2 months back.

Arunima said...

oh!

My mother lost her mom and her brother 2 months back.

CRUSTY MOM-E said...

a good salute and honorable!

memories are a beautiful thing!

E

Portia said...

this post might feel long ago to you right now. but i hadn't read it yet, so here i am. love hearing about your spices:) makes me want to cook- and you know, i don't do that a whole lot. the wedding sounds so very bittersweet. i suppose that's what you have to do.

austere said...

Portia- yes, you gotta do what you gotta.. the lady would have worn white for a year, left her hair open and unoiled...and it was so right to see her attending to the guests, so dignified...

crusty- :)

arunima- sorry to hear about your family's grief. Is this why you wouldn't be allowed to visit your mom?

mago- yes. there is something so soothing about cooking, though.

manu- over time, people either become real time friends as well, or they filter past..no?