there are mirages on roads and 'easy', life is not.
We try to avoid going out in the sun,
But we still end up having fun.
Eating ice-creams and biryani,
and sitting by the hot blue sea.
I think a lot of my weight,
making diets and marking dates.
I think I must eat lightly,
and be sweat free and slim and sprightly.
Until I end up having sweet tea,
or I end up eating biryani.
We talk about corruption with anger and hate,
while we inch toward the toll gate.
We pay GST reluctantly,
and watch political drama unfold on TV.
We try to catch the IPL match and support CSK,
and discuss it like we discuss rains, on this summer day.
We hate the TV serials and wait for movies instead,
We walk aimlessly in the malls until we are ready to drop dead.
We earn and spend almost equally,
We fret about retirement continuously.
until we go out and order biryani.
There are many types of biryani you see,
basmati, jeera samba, bamboo and hyderabadi.
we discuss the flavour of spices and taste at length,
comparing shops and prices and taking more time than we meant.
According to the Oxford dictionary,
Biryani is highly seasoned dish of rice, meat and served with gravy,
It is a Asian delicacy, improved over generations, for you and me.
My mouth waters as I write,
I wonder if I can manage to have a biryani tonight.
I know it makes me fat and reduces my life expectancy.
But why live without having biryani.
Though I crib and cry,
about things I cannot control and sigh,
I do not control my urge you see,
when it comes to eating, sleeping or having biryani.