“Few tasks are more like the torture of Sisyphus than housework, with its endless repetition: the clean becomes soiled, the soiled is made clean, over and over, day after day.”
― Simone de Beauvoir
I wash everything
I scrub it clean
along with the vessels
the vegetables
my consciousness
of any sense of me
I peel the skin
delicately
potatoes can also
look like hearts
to mad women
like me
Time looks like
a fine stainless steel grater
I grate my ego
fine, finer
so that all
my questions die
your love sharp
like a shining knife
I chop, chop,chop
my self in to
smaller pieces
so that of my "I"
remains no sign
Now I knead
mix it, dissolve it
add more water
that will bind it fast
to make a stiff dough
of tradition
against which I punch
my knuckles
till they hurt,never bleed
the oil heats like
my simmering soul
In the wok of your
grand celebration
I deep fry
the remains of
my hard work, pride
self-worth and name
The festive feast
for your Devi
Venerate, celebrate her
who isn't nameless like me but
who has a thousand names* !
* Durga- the Hindu deity is believed to have a thousand names
