Since childhood, I have seen,

Marie biscuits have secured a safe place

in the house,

As the head of the family always

Demands for a couple of them

While sipping the garam chai

In the morning,

and in the evening.

Generation after generation

It has become a ritual now

To grab the jar of Marie biscuits

And then,

Bring out a few of them

To accompany your hot cup of tea.

No, no, not coffee,

For cookies are there to have with it.

But with tea,

We will have only Marie.

I love the tiny dots

Designed to make a pattern on the skin

Like Marie is wearing a polka-dot skirt.

But it can’t flaunt the beautiful dress for more time

As it prepares to take the plunge into the tea

Then, dissolving into the brown sea

And melting into a paste of flour.

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(This post is part of the series ‘Solace in the Mundaneness’ where I try to tell stories of the everyday things that capture a special place in my heart and they make me feel privileged to live a simple and ordinary life with contentment and peace. This post is also part of Blogchatter A to Z.)