My Indian Friends

The programmer from Bangalore

Who flew to Cali every year 

And always went back through Qatar

Because his parents worked for the government

Was a good omen

He was kind and informative 

And slept for 12 of the 14 hours 

From Dallas to Doha

I had to wake him up

He missed breakfast

But he would see family soon

In DOH it was clean and new 

I got to wait in the business lounge

Much nicer than the one in DFW

And much lonelier

But I was on my way soon

To see my Indian friends

The ones I had spoken to

Every other week

For several months

Only they didn't know I was scared

I was coming alone

And I had picked the wrong hotel

And I hoped Babu would be at the airport

Cause I wouldn't know how to say

Take me to the Ramada

It is on an island

In the backwater

Close to the ocean

At least I think it is

My new friends think I'm the boss

That I know what I am doing

And they are afraid I am as American as I look

So they play it safe

Take me to the normal restaurants

Avoid the real food

The stuff they eat every day

Until the third day

But they still hedge their bets

Anoop is hesitant

Even as we are paying

He shows me how to get the big metal tray

Fill it with rice

Scoop on the different curries

Get a cup for the curd

Get a cup for the sauce

Grab a salt cured chili

And two Dixie cups of dessert

Head to the table

And dig in with our hands

He brings utensils the first day

And the second

Before he doesn't bother

Before he sees I love it

Almost as much as he does

We finish all smiles

And Anoop bobbles his head

In encouragement

In the Karala way

POEM - Omelette Set to Stun

I've written about eggs

Often and fondly

The crack and the sizzle and the yum

Or the cool and smooth

Of hard-boiled perfection

But they can be so much more

With a little imagination

Perspiration and creation

As onions and tomatoes

Spinach and cheese

Grill in the buttery slosh

Covered in salt and jalapenos

Heating up and mixing

In delightfully indecent ways

From where I stand

I inhale

Breathe deep 

As I beat the vicious circular rhythm

Of fork against the porcelain bowl

Torturing the slimy insides

Of the shells that lay shattered in the trash

Unblinkingly I continue

Soaked in the delightful aroma

Then it is time

To release the yellow sea

Of protein rich fluids

To engulf the savory stew

Sweating it out in their cast iron prison

I only can release them

Once they emerge 

Coated in a delightful robe

All are transfigured

Beyond the sum 

Of such disparate parts

A greater new creature

Arises from the fires

A delicious phoenix

Named omelette