The act of cooking, forever estranged.
With war’s cruel hand, traditions do fade,
And meals once familiar, now changed
The scent of the garlic, the hiss of the pan,
Alas! Those happier days when the feast freely ran,
The spoon stirs not just the pot, but the past,
Memories of plenty that could not last.
Every slice, each chop, a whisper of days,
When life was abundant in simpler ways.
Ingredients rare, substitutions made,
A dance of survival in culinary trade.
Yet amidst the loss, a resilience is found,
In kitchens where hope and resolve abound.
Though the act of cooking is ne’er the same,
It bears the fierce spirit of those who remain.
For in every meal, a story is told,
Of courage and the hearts strong and bold.
Author: Dr. Mehak Burza
Workshop: Food Glorious Food
