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Good Tupperware

A late night infomercial

Celebrates functional kitchenware, spreads

Its revelatory gospel. Just two

Payments of nineteen ninety-nine brings

Salvation to housewives everywhere!

Who mourn piles of sloppy rajma 1

Fallen on the floor, “Oh Lord!

That damned faulty tupperware!”

To those poor souls

Who live in an unseasoned, nauseating,

Greyscale video filter;

Whose slain beans are

Slimy monsters of wrath!

Salvation, salvation to you!

Poof! You find yourself in technicolour,

And successfully you place

Securely encased legumes

Into the fridge, beaming!

Salvation, salvation alas!

And only you, Oh

Lord! How I dream to escape

My greyscale world.

For Rajma is one among

The many things I’ve ruined – those

friendships, opportunities and loves, my

Mind, body and soul crippled with neglect.

How I suffer the terrifying piles of

Experience strewn across the cold tile floor.

I suffer because I cannot forget,

And because the mess of my past

Ensures an ultimately catastrophic future;

Knowing my doom lies in burying

My history, so that I can live to tell the tale.

Oh, to forget would be happiness,

To be a blank slate again!

If only someone had given me his number,

That of the man who invents.

Perhaps he could have created

Tupperware for someone like me.

Then could I have enclosed my rotting,

And shut it away

In the coldest freezer

Forever and ever.

1 Marathi for kidney beans


Editor(s): Amber T., Sydney O.

Photo Credits: Unsplash


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