Rice flakes.
Poha dry roasted over sand , patiently, as sand turns black, poha pops into snowy flakes.
Crunchy.
Rice flakes were the breakfast for us and so many people milling around us.
Dunked into milk, or mish-mashed with thick curd, with red jaggery or plain salted. It could be a staple , or with roasted peanuts , metamorphose into a snack.
It was the noisiest meal one could ever have .
Crunchy and satisfying.
Memories of some of the simplest, earthiest and fulfilling meals of one’s life .
Poha dry roasted over sand , patiently, as sand turns black, poha pops into snowy flakes.
Crunchy.
Rice flakes were the breakfast for us and so many people milling around us.
Dunked into milk, or mish-mashed with thick curd, with red jaggery or plain salted. It could be a staple , or with roasted peanuts , metamorphose into a snack.
It was the noisiest meal one could ever have .
Crunchy and satisfying.
Memories of some of the simplest, earthiest and fulfilling meals of one’s life .
hehe.....poha roasted on sand, isn't it?
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