Butterflies in the stomach, legs weak at the knees.
Eyes rested, and yet not too keen to open up and see..
A languid mind, not yet ready to endure another week…
No age absolved, no vocation let go….
That devil – Monday, doesn’t spare any soul…..
Filed under Poetry, Project 365
When time's hard, Chips are down,
And Life, like old curd, seems sour,
There's nothing better to sweeten it up,
Than some hot spicy Idli Vada Sambar.
- Anonymous
(because I know the poem sucks) :P
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Idli Vada Sambar 