A Song 108

Aji scratchy
as food art, artistry
in pickle jars,
gets patchy.
From the morning
she wedded
in Alleppey,
for 40 years and more,
sambhar,
avial,
thoran
spiders the imagination
woven in Sreevatsam.
Slips there are
these times;
a Tata salt grain more;
fingers chipped
chopping vegetables,
coffee,
a suggestion of waste,
imperfections of
an enthusiasm.
Ajoba suggests a cook.
Aji is in a no.
Could snap her
wedding,
her
loving.