Who can forget that Fluffy nutty cloudy icy desert How I drool at the thought of kulfi …
In the lanes of Triplicane Where I grew up as a child After a rejuvenated day of games of Hopscotch (pandi), hide n seek (kannamoochi) Snakes n ladders (parama padam), ludo (dhaya kattai) Marbles (goli), spinning top (pambaram) And more ..
From dawn to dusk Until mothers lovingly remember us scream at us to get back home finish our dinner just in time for oliyum oliyum (or chitrahaar)
After the noisy streets have quietened the moon is in full bloom sequin-silver stars covering up the sky as though silently winking at me
the chiming of the brass bell, ding-a-ling-ling from a distance, I hear
rummaging my mother’s wallet for that five rupees coin calling out my beloved friends dashing to the streets almost at the same time
as the ice-cream vendor halts at my doorstep with large earthen pots filled with kulfis
there was no mango, vanilla or chocolate there was no choice, but one kulfi flavor our joy knew no bounds for choice causes chaos in the mind
I have waited this far But the daunting part is now When I knew I am the last in the queue When I knew my brother would have it before me When I saw my dearest buddies starting to lick the kulfi My heart would melt
Finally, the ice-cream vendor Would dearly call out my name I was brimming with enthusiasm and excitement For it was my turn
Simple pleasures, are such treasures Me and my kulfi How I miss you…
❤❤