The Masala Tin

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Mum asks me

“Beti, please refresh the tin
Where the masala lives”.

It’s a timeless ritual,
Always me,
Navigating the jigsaw,
Of my Identity.

~Jeera, coriander, golden haldi~

These spices ground me
Lengthening my own roots
To my ancestral home out of reach

Mum says my touch sanctifies her cooking.

How divine is a mother’s blessing…

By: @RadsWrites – Radhika Manek

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