When I walked a mile, she thought I was famished,
If I talked for a while, she thought I was underfed,
Often yelling “Let us eat something lest we should cry,
Mouth full of deep fried pooris lest we all should die!

I’ve always been mindful of the food that entered my body,
Perhaps, I should have stopped eating despite her try,
Now when I see myself in the mirror,
Vividly unable to decipher the paunchy guy!

Our matriarchal tradition of having gourmet meals six times a day,
Was often accompanied with three cups of chai,
I grew up thinking this will change someday,
Mum would stop feeding us with shrinking supply!

This was too much for my newly-wed wife to control,
She exclaimed “Food can hardly gratify our soul,
Sumptuous meals and sweets on platter,
The more you eat the more you saccharify!

Fasting in our home was a sin par excellence,
Consuming healthy food was a heinous crime,
My mum’s repertoire of feeding us still continues,
And shall continue “perhaps” until we die!