Homemakers
SOUMYA HEGDE
I write the first half of this poem
while walking to the dairy –
we are out of milk.
as little droplets appear
on the cold milk packet
I think
of languages and symbols and meanings
of condensation
of sudden change in the state of matter
and the rest of the day
waiting for me
from the house
father-in-law belches on the couch
husband works on his computer inside closed doors
the lady on the TV sings a bhajan
and mother-in-law grates ginger for the tea,
singing along
I write the rest of it
while kneading dough
as the gluten strands expand in the flour
producing a perfect elasticity
father-in-law belches on the couch
husband works on the computer
and mother-in-law peels a pile of garlic
I think
of rhythms and metaphors and verses
I pout my mouth to say
dough
I feel my tongue saying
elasticity
she couldn't say that word,
my mother-in-law
doesn't know about the gluten strands either
but she has taught me kneading
how much water to use,
how much pressure through the wrist,
how to roll and twist
Mother-in-law makes
the softest rotis
that's her poetry-
I am still learning.
Soumya Hegde is an aspiring writer who mostly lives in a fantasy land. She is currently playing out the thousandth version of her life story in her head.