A Bite of Him

My eyes jiggle around

As everyone eats together

While I sit with myself

Eating the hastily cooked meat.

Is it my Niqab?

Or a ‘beef’ with my meat?

Maybe a conjoint effort

That drives people away.

Friends wave from far

As I eat with a humming

I wave back at them

As they continue departure.

As I ‘purify’ myself

With the cold gushing water

The eyes rest on him

Silently eating with himself.

The legs wanted to walk

But the eyes wanted to stay

As I embrace the conflict

Who could defeat the gaze?

I see him biting

A huge chunk of meat

I also wanted a bite

A bite of his lips.

The eyes got locked

As he waved a hi

I lifted my Niqab

To see with my smile.

As I walk towards him

The eyes see the plate

Smirk on my lips

As I understand solitariness.

The meat seemed juicy

His lips seemed juicier

Dehydration engulfed my soul

As I wanted a sip of him.

Astaghfirullah in my mind

But desire in my heart

As I embrace the conflict

Who could defeat fondness?

“Don’t bring lunch tomorrow”

My vocals itself smiled

He wondered at first

Only to smile at last.

As I journeyed home

The ingredients kept scrolling

My eyelids smiled over

At the wonder of Nihari.

I entered the kitchen with a chirp

As my family watched

I was dancing or cooking?

We all had the same doubt.

The evening was aromatic

As my onions turned brown

The spices had ecstasy

But the gravy seemed worried.

Wheat flour rescued me

 The gravy thickened in confidence

While my sister teased

With her romantic songs.

As my meat finds its oil

I think about us both

Where we live together

Where we eat together.

The Dum Pot emerged

Long lost in the storage

My eyes shined brightly

When it touched my hands.

The art of slow cooking

Or the heart in slow cooking

Don’t know how to put it

Whatever it is, it is love.

The flame was low

But the desire was on fire

As I waited for Fajr

The clock ticked slowly.

I prayed with a crescent smile 

The sunlight paid a visit

As time cooked it more

I searched for fresh corianders.

My family gathered

With plates and laughter

My sister winked a smile

“Mashallah” echoed in my home.

The food was packed

Like a child being pampered

I waved them goodbye

Feeling the food’s warmth.

The lecture felt dumb

As my fingers kept tapping

As I witnessed the butterflies

Knocking my stomach within.

My eyes brisk walked

In search of the warmth

In the ocean of unknowing

They finally found its anchor.

As he gestured to sit

I sat as close as I can

My eyes were blushing

So, I lifted the Niqab.

The lunchbox bloomed

He drowned in the spicy air

His eyes seemed hungry

So was mine.

The Khamiri roti was soft

My heart took over

I glanced at his smile

As I felt notorious. 

He could eat by himself

I’ll make sure he won’t

I tore the roti smaller 

So as to touch his lips.

The roti soaked the gravy

And I was soaked in love

As I felt his tender smile

Softer than soft itself.

I wanted the bite of both

But I’ll settle with food today

As I chewed the soft meat

His eyes walked with my lips.

While the world watches over

Some with disgust, some with impurity

The friends stay at distance

But my heart is with me.

Alhamdulillah in my mind

With him in my heart

As I embrace the truce

Who could defeat love?

I cherish the food

And surely my Dum Pot

My heart blossoms with fragrance

It’s a marker of my love.

Is it my Niqab?

Or a ‘beef’ with my meat?

That drives people away

So, the adorable ones stay!