NilaaChoaru

Moonlight in abundance With stars across the carpeted sky And the aura of VennNilaa. Slow breeze like a bride's veil Blows across the darkened green Disturbed by the smoke from the little habitat, And the dinner is ready.

The little family of five, Comes out of the thatched clay cottage With warm pots and washed plates, And settle on the palm mat That Appa had prepared On the silver shining lawn, And the dimmed lantern is kept away.

The Nilaa smiles and they smile back. Lifted eyes and spirits, witness once again The blinking wonders of the sky. Amma is mixing the Choaru Preparing the Kulayal With her nursing arms. And the taste buds await the delicacy When the plates are being filled.

Being carried comfortably in Amma's left, With his legs around her left-tilted hip, KuttiMahan observes the darker portions Of the bright shining Nilaa, and questions, As Amma carries him around the dining mat.

"It's the wolves roaming around in the moon" claims his Anna. KuttiMahan's mouth opens wide, And the first morsel of Kulayal. "It's the Aachchi frying Vadai" claims his little Akka. And then the second morsel.

One by one, With the eyes staring at the admirable moon, With an uplifted chin, The little esophagus struggles not. The tumbler with warm water; Otherwise the essential feeding tool, relaxes on the mat, jobless, And Amma's heart smiles; That smile of relief Appa alone could read, In that moonlit night.

The task of feeding a toddler with a potbelly Is not an easy one, isn't it?

Stories continue in childhood fantasy, And the NilaaChoaru was a meal of content, With Appa's laughter disturbing the dream world, And turning the chapters of history, To July, Nineteen Sixty Nine.