On a red hot dance floor,
An empty pan sets the stage.
Through two doors,
Enter oil and butter on skates.
The same question on their faces.
With a raised eyebrow,
‘Why you too, when I’m here?
Overcoming their initial friction,
Losing one in the other,
Light up the dark stage.
Ginger and garlic, the siamese twins,
Take the first leap in.
Moving left and right, all around,
Till they have worn down their young selves.
Five unique red-blooded tomatoes,
Conforming to the pressure of the blender,
Becoming indistinguishably one,
Join the siamese twins on the floor.
After a while, to heat things up,
Arrive, a dash of powdered red chillies.
They waltz and do their salsa thing
In the heat of fire and spice.
Until the skating oil having had enough,
Steps away from their merriment.
As if there isn’t enough show of strength,
The flashy cashews make an entry.
At first, they all get along well
Then the oil does its hermit trick again.
Things are getting a bit dry.
To lighten the mood, enters the water guy.
‘Let there be music’, shouts the crowd.
And there is, drum beats of green chillies,
Lilting guitar strings of ginger,
And the mellifluous singing of salt.
Now, the plot thickens.
Time for the party’s guest of honour.
Lady Paneer, dressed in gold sheer;
The whole party crowds around her;
Embracing, enveloping, electrifying;
The lady is now, one with all.
Delighted eyes watch this drama;
A watering mouth dreams of a closer look;
Nostrils echo a song of fragrance;
Ears, now hear the rumble of the stomach;
And a hand reaches out to the party floor.
The dancers are welcomed to a place within.
Beginning a journey deep down,
To the destination of their dreams.
[ Inspired by: http://www.vegrecipesofindia.com/paneer-butter-masala/ ]