Ode to The Masala Dosa

There she awaits me, in all her crispy golden glory
Behind the wintry, foggy glass of the Indian diner
Holding the promise of buttery crunchy delights
And explosions of chillies on the tip of my tongue


She is unequaled, unrivalled in her appeal
A delight on the palate, a delicate dance
The sarnie seems a pale excuse for a snack
A bowl of pasta too heavy, too full of itself

She’s not alone, the divine dosa
Protected by moats of green and orange chutneys
So sail across the river of Sambar
And lo and behold, there’s your chosen one


It’s true love, me and my dosa
No dietician, no weight watcher
Shall ever come between us
Only happily ever after, me and my dosa