The Scent of Curry Leaves

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You stood at the doorway, hesitant,
While I, an orphan, stood all alone in this vast world.
You reached out your hand and drew me close,
Offering food, shelter — and above all, love.

Like the curry leaf behind the kitchen,
I blended into your dishes — as aroma, as taste.
Played, laughed, and grew beside you,
That house became my heartbeat, my breath.

You stirred in my favorite flavors,
Served me the meals I craved the most.
Or simply called me with endearing names,
And in that love, I forgot everything else.

Every time I came, there was payasam waiting —
You knew how much I mattered.
Yet slowly, they pushed aside my little wants,
And I, blinded by love, forgot even myself.

One day, spring bloomed within me —
Your daughter whispered love in my ear.
A love that sparkled like red hibiscus petals,
In a moment that made me forget even life.

We walked hand-in-hand through dreamy lanes,
Lost in joy, needing nothing else.

They noticed my place, grew jealous,
Whispers spun by distant relatives.
With hidden venom, they wove a net for me,
A trap strung tight with silent spite.

Storming in, came questions, doubts,
Eyes sharp with future fears.
“Leave,” they said, “and never return,”
Their pointing fingers void of kindness.
Like a curry leaf thrown out after use,
They cast me away, discarded like waste.

Then she turned her face from me,
Her smile faded, her gaze grew distant.
Silent and withdrawn she stood,
My beloved now a stranger to my soul.
My heart shattered, eyes ran dry,
I crumbled, hollowed, and walked away.

More than the boiling pot's angry steam,
It was grief that burned me raw.

Just to catch a glimpse of you again,
I pack my bag and wander to your streets.
North and south, I carry my memories,
But you no longer see me, my dear.

Among the new dishes you serve,
Though my name is missing — I still return.
Sometimes near you, without your knowing,
As dust, I swirl in the wind’s tender hands.
Still lingers the scent of curry leaves,
An abandoned memory, etched in my chest.



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