I accepted their invitation
with alacrity - the invitation extended by the frying pan, the knives, the tongs, the rolling pin, the steel plates, the spoons - the salt and the sugar ones, the steel glasses.
That kitchen had provided the impedimenta to my matriarch —
my great grandmother,
my grandmother and
for cooking the perfect amalgamation
of the delicacies of
Garwahal and Punjab.
At that very moment,
I grabbed a packet of two-minute noodles.
I stood there for 5-minutes.
The noodles took long.