Years back I was called a green chilly
Age and time tempered me into ripening
I have been plucked, left to the eternal sun
To scrotch and bite my body
Till-I am sucked out of moisture
Even my seeds were not spared
-they may have feared my rebirth-
Container preserved, air tight
Alone -abhorred and neglected
For they accuse me of irritating their eyes,sneezing their noses
I am left to suffer the ignominy of being forgotten
No innocent hands reach out to me
Yet-they need me
To redden their life
To spice up their present
To marinate their future
Caught in the container of family, motherhood mocks at me
You have changed-reduced to dust-mere dust
But I know
Deep inside-dust or no dust
Iam what I was, and will be
--Spicy and hot
