AN ODE TO “IDLY”
I wandered lonely as a cloud,
That floats o'er vales & hills,
When all at once I saw a sight,
That filled my heart with thrills.
Amidst the noisy city streets,
Where life was in full sway,
There stood a humble eatery,
Where idli held its sway.
Its steam arose in gentle waves,
As it sat in its steel plate,
With chutneys by its side,
Ready to tantalize the taste.
A soft, fluffy mound it was,
Of rice and lentil divine,
Its texture light as feather,
Its taste, a magic sign.
The idli sat there in its grace,
A symbol of simple delight,
A creation born of patient wait,
A culinary poetry in its own right.
No pomp or grandeur did it boast,
No fancy flavors it wore,
Yet it stood as a testament,
To the beauty of being pure.
The first bite brought a symphony,
Of flavors, subtle & mild,
A blend of earth & fire,
That left me beguiled.
And as I savored each morsel,
In that idli’s company,
I felt a sense of tranquility,
A connection to eternity.
For in that unassuming dish,
I found a taste of the sublime,
A reminder of life's simple joys,
In a world that often seems unkind.
So let us celebrate the idli,
In Wordsworth's poetic style,
A humble food that brings us peace,
And makes our hearts beguile.
Oh, idli, you are a work of art,
A masterpiece on a plate
In your simplicity lies a wisdom,
That the world must appreciate.
Thus, let us raise a toast,
To the idli, so pure & true,
May its essence forever live,
In our hearts & in our stew.
William Wordsworth style
- Author unknown
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