Brinjal

I typed this on the way home on the car.

just had a family dinner at bedok.

ordered some dishes from the zichar stall. excellent meal.

and there again.

~
Remembering how he used to flash that toothy grin of his when i named each ingredient he added in his dishes, since i was alittle child, and her warm genial smile that was the encouragement to savour every bite and mouthful i had, and a reflex to identify the intricacies of every dish just to bask in those little moments of innocent pride.

how he never failed to exclaim with his hearty laugh of how i could do that, at every other family dinner.
~

Salted fish bits, Spring onion, blackbean and sugar.

~

as much as i long for these memories, they do strike a chord, painfully melancholic.