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