I remember feeling the spices of
all the foods we had on the
tip of my tongue,
standing on the stalls of all
sort of street food we used to
crave on Friday nights.
But, I also remember how
it's taste used to dissipate if
you said, "let's get it packed,
we will eat at home."
I don't particularly remember
the last time we were sitting in
the car holding hands and
anticipating for the food to be dropped,
but I cannot forget you turning
the AC on because the food was too
hot and our mouths would burn.
How crazy it was to travel miles
but still going gaga over the food
stalls in C-4 block.
Let's go back there again, love.
I promise not to steal the food
from your plate when I send you
to get an extra packet of sauce.
This poem is inspired by the love of street food we all have. This is the most prominent detail we are missing from the world we lived in before we were forced to be in quarantine. We all have our own distinct memories with the street food, some people venture out alone on weekends to feel the taste of local foods in their mouths while the others hold hands of their partner and laugh on silly things with their mouths full of food they love and some have the memory of fooling around with their friends and discussing whose turn it is to pay for the food while still eating it. Eating food from all the places I want is going to be my first task once things go back to normal in my country.
Share this with the one you are going to eat with 🍜
Written by Rebekka Kaur
Picture by: Nelson wu on Instagram
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