Ma’s Fingers

If I say I have seen my mom working hard since I was a little one, then I would be wrong because everyone’s mother is special for them. Here is a prose poem based on fingers of a mother it may be my mother or somebody else’s mother, because all mother’s are incredible creatures of god.

Mother’s fingers

Working through anything like magic,

My mother’s fingers they are always subtle-

Never do I find her resting them,

Time in and time out she works them out;

Never once caring for the frigid cold or dry summer.

Her fingers may not be dainty anymore,

But they are curved.

They still know how to brush the strands of hair

Away from my face.

They still are my ma’s fingers.

Now my dear friends is the time when you learn a new Indian recipe. This one is a pitha that is prepared during Makar sankranti . I suppose in my makar sankranti post I attached a few pictures along with the post. Here is the recipe for one of my favorite pitha. Pitha is a kind of desert item it can be taken as an evening or morning snack. Today I’m going to tell you how to prepare a Malpuwa, well that is the name of the pitha.


Note:this recipe is only for one malpuwa if you want prepare more increase the quantity of ingredients.

To prepare this you will need 1 cup white flour (maida), my mother specially mixes rice powder with that, grind-ed sugar granules and water. Make a paste of it. Heat oil in a pan and then slowly pour the paste one by one so that the things are circular in shape. Fry them till they are brown. These desserts are crispy and can be taken with coffee or tea. They are prepared during makar sankranti as well as during Lakshmi puja.


India has been enslaved for many years by different dynasties and then by different European companies who came to trade but then tried to rule on us.This particular poem is based on all those heroines who fought for the nation’s freedom.

A lady with a gun
A lady with a gun


Standing among the thronged crowd

She saw him everyday ,making a

Troll on his black stallion;

She watched him like a tigress,

Waiting to pounce on it’s prey.

Continue reading “Heroine”