Curry Powder, and: Terrorism in Manhattan

Curry Powder

curry powder se banaye tarkariyamasala pise na jane, masala pise na jane*

Nani's mother forgot her first Madrasi name;adopted by Christians off the indenture ship

called jahaaj. Nani ground garam masala withbitter bitter tears so Ma buys Lala's from the West

Indies Mart and parrots, Achcha hai? to her elders.My sister pops a jar of Patak's premade lentils

and shakes each grain into Nana's karahi.Both fried from daal, my brother can't distinguish

between barah and phulowri, eats all twowet with plenty plenty pepper sauce, come morning

his rass go burn. I make rice in a steamer that plugsinto the wall, its final ding calls us all to feast.

                        *They make tarkari with curry powder                        and do not know how to grind masala,                        from the song by Mangroo Badal

Terrorism in Manhattan

pani mein chini mil jai asaani asaanijaisan masalawa mein mirchiya kali kali*

The white officers question the hijabiwoman with a bag of basmati in burlap,

"What's in the bag?" They understand the word basmati—Alhamdulillah—the world is palm sized.

They rub her with strips of paper to see ifthe brown grains she cradles as a son will shoot into

green stalks or bombs. Her cousin disappeared severalyears ago; no one remembers the lilt of his du'a.

She wonders where the line is to ask her own fire-questions. Who did they wipe when racists

razed her mosque? Or, Where the hell do they holdher cousin? One grain of rice in the paddy field.

                        *In water sugar mixes easily,                        like black pepper in garam masala.