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Ten things from the market.
Tomato, tamarind, pepper, cumin, garlic, curry leaves, coriander, red chilli, turmeric, toor dal.
Roasted slow, pounded by hand.
Until the pepper bites and the cumin sings.
One glass of rasam, folded into one bag.
Filled, sealed, strung and tagged.
Ten bags in a box.
Lid down. Ready to go.
Across Bengaluru, the same week it's packed.
On a scooter, the way everything good arrives here.
And there it is, at your door.
Small enough for the letterbox.
Lift the lid. Breathe in.
Pepper, tamarind, roasted cumin.
Take one.
No measuring. Nothing to wash.
Hot water. Three minutes.
Watch it turn rasam-red.
Both hands. Eyes closed.
Hot, sour, peppery. Exactly like home.
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