A Beautiful Tradition

Heard about a beautiful tradition practiced by many tharavaads (traditional homes) in the Kerala of a bygone era. The elderly lady of the house would ensure after dinner each night, that one of the younger women go near the gate & look around for anybody who may be in need of a meal.

She would then loudly call out in Malayalam : “Athazha pattinikar indo?” (“Are there any hungry people out there?”)

She would say this once or twice & in case there was someone hungry, they would be given food.

The family which practiced this would be known in the area so there would also be the regulars waiting for a meal.

It was only after this, that the gates would be closed for the night.

What a lovely tradition.

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Taj The Beautiful

A beautiful poem by my niece Eden.

Taj The Beautiful

A gem in white
A gift of love,
It sits amidst clouds of fog.

One will stare, in awe,
Marveled by its beauty
Fascinated by the intricate patterns that are engraved in the precious stone.

A ray of light will appear from behind
As the orange morning star emerges
It sheds light on the truth,
The reason this artistry exists,
Making her death, seem the most beautiful part of life.
Making their love seem immortal,
Which it is.

The tomb, is a symbol of passion,
The structure’s excellence, powerful enough hold it, through anything,
But not as strong as the passion that created it.

So it stands,
Unbreakable,
Protected by the everlasting devotion,
It is the Taj Mahal.