Spice Box

Colorful pungent grounded powder with the demeanor bold

Round, lidded stainless steel container includes seven bowls

Each with their own flavor, secrets of generations it beholds

“What are those secrets?” she asked.

I quickly uttered without any hesitation

I begin with no quiver in my voice

The young newly wed bride pinches carefully enough to please her better half

The saga of romance mixed with the powder

The measure, a pinch less for some dish and more for some other

Prized heirloom in many households

Secrets of generations it beholds

The pot is perfectly hot enough

For all the ground spices to go in and give a sudden rush.

In a faraway land away from his home, somewhere

Beloved son thinks about his doting mother with every stir

The spices are blended giving a support to the raw veggies

To him, they act like a mother’s hand

Telling him that his research paper will get recognition and no worries

As the spice sizzles, get sorted life’s many puzzles

The mustard seeds pop, the cumin touches the oil

The hardworking farmers in the field stay removed from the toil

Evokes nostalgia, many stories unfold

Secrets of generations it beholds

They say every spice has their own history

The plant it comes from, the hill it resides

Yet many emotions it connects which remains a mystery

The grandmother shares the secret element

The elixir to soothe her granddaughter’s predicament

Even in the times of hot and in the times when it very cold

Secrets of generations it beholds.