A Walk Down Memory Lane

Once in a while I  take a walk down memory lane. And whilst on the way,gather some  bits and pieces of my childhood. A few moments ago ,I ventured on this nostalgic journey  again. I stopped  for a moment, when I envisaged my childhood home, where I had spent  great many years of happy times with my family, I mentally zoomed  in to the dining hall,where my large family used to  gather during  mealtimes.Whisperings, followed by loud laughter would  erupt throughout the hallway, which would quickly   be silenced by the food that would soon be laid on the table. Mother would painstakingly prepare part of the breakfast while  my siblings and I would wait impatiently around the breakfast table for Father, who would bring the main part of the breakfast,the freshly baked bread from the Baker, which we all took delight in eating, with the coconut “sambol” ( chutney ) Mother made. Even though we had a choice for breakfast, we always tried to eat Mother’s favorite. With stinging eyes and  runny nose, my whole body would be encircled with a burning sensation. I wouldn’t give up!! Hastily gulping water in between each morsel, I would fan myself with the morning newspaper, to cool that sweltering in me and pretend that everything was just fine. I would n’t dislodge from the breakfast table till I finished the last mouthful of that spicy coconut sambol, which was a mixture of scrapped coconut, red chilly ,green chilly and chopped onions sprinkled with lemon juice and salt. This was my mother’s  specialty! A simple dish made with great labour of love.

Goodness me! Now I have  partially  regained my composure from my reminiscence  and still in the  state of  drooling, walk toward the kitchen looking for scrap, crumb and pieces of ingredients to prepare my favourite  breakfast dish.

Eek! A Snake

Whether this is a verse, a canto,a stanza or whatever that may deem fit to denote in one word the writing I have herein put in black and white, was instigated  by a rattle snake which stayed overnight at my parent's home during my younger days. The snake was not inflicted in any way, as it went back quietly to where it belonged.( the zoo)

One Sunday,

This slimy creature

Wrapped well in shiny leather

Came in through the door, left ajar

Mother unaware

Engrossed deep in the

Sunday Paper

Then She thought

It was the figmentation

Of her imagination

When she sensed company

Bewildered..

She gaped

When she saw this slimy  creature

Cosily coiled up in

Father’s favourite chair.

Digitally created

Breakfast

-This is my response to Today's prompt at www oneminutewriter.com . "Describe in detail your favorite breakfast as a child."-


My siblings and I would wait uncomplainingly around the breakfast table for Father ,who would bring the freshly baked bread from the Bakery, which we all took delight in eating ,with the coconut “sambol” Mother made. Even though we had a choice for breakfast, we always tried to eat Mother’s favorite. With stinging eyes and a runny nose, my whole body would be encircled with a burning sensation . I wouldn’t give up!! Hastily gulping water in between each morsel, I would fan myself with the morning newspaper, to cool that sweltering in me and pretend that everything was just fine. I would n’t dislodge from the breakfast table till I finished the last mouthful of that spicy coconut sambol , which was a mixture of scrapped coconut, red chilly ,green chilly and chopped onions sprinkled with lemon juice and salt. This was Mother’s delight!