Cooking for Comfort

From work I return, completely drained

Having navigated a complex web again

Of illness, death, pain, angst, anger, and more

Each day seems more exhausting than the one before


The thought of preparing dinner right now

Is daunting, and I am wondering how

To rid myself of this tedious chore

When I see chickpeas I had soaked the night before

I am obligated to cook them, I realize

So with resignation, I begin to dice

Onions and tomatoes, some garlic I pound

In a few minutes, a familiar rhythm I’ve found

The subliminal ritual of cooking a comfort meal

Calms me down, the predictable process makes me feel

Much more in control than I did during the day

The aroma of Indian spices further takes away

Stressful thoughts; then the pressure cooker chimes in

With its shrill whistles, and my salivary glands begin

To produce their juice, because this is the sign

That piping hot stew would be ready in no time..

I steam fragrant basmati rice and roll out dough,

Into fresh rotis, puff them on the griddle, nice and slow

By the time dinner is ready, work woes I have left behind

The ritual of cooking dinner has been therapeutic for my mind


To counterbalance the unpredictability at work I need

The comfort and familiarity of a ritual indeed

By cooking a simple meal rooted in my culture, I find

A salve for my heart and my overburdened mind

Published by iheart11

A 30-something year old woman, physician by profession, fiercely passionate about work, family, travel and fashion..

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