Nostalgia

the steaming rice

drinks up the broth

and spices up its lonliness…

the smoking oil in the wok

tantalizes the young and raw onions

they turn pink

blushing

they hide behind the stiff okra

or sturdy potatoes

flavours, dormant and subdued

flare up

and fill my room

with aromas long cherished

i find home

in wafting flavours

nostalgia, bubbling in a wok!