Our Love

There's flour-dusted countertops and dough balls used as play-dough.

There's spitting oil and fingers that touch said boiling oil -

seemingly defying the laws of nature -

coming out burn-free and pain-free.

There's curtains and table linen and gold jewellery passed down from mother to mother,

with the expectation that it will be passed down to my girl when she too becomes a mother,

that I'll happily do. It's more than just tradition!

There's clothes filled with the scents of masala and cooking meat,

dumped into piles -

that ebb and flow with the seasons.

There's laughter and tears, complaining and gratitude, prayers and generosity.

In both good and trying times, there's a whole lot of something - too difficult to define -

and in the middle of that something…

is our love.