matti
in mama’s language matti means soil
blessed cow shit brewed with matti to make clay because how
else to reassure nana and nani and that long ass extended family
pink american baby is brown and hindu
the white man shifts away as asphalt fingers reach for
cheerios at trader joes the chinese woman asks me if
chicken kebab samosas are good
hindus
dont
eat animals we use every part of the banana
the virgin
green for aloo masala because god forbids potato
on prime dates we didnt have the mature honeyed
banana that youtuber puts in purple smoothies mama
severed burnt ones
let them rot it cows milk ripe bananas
flamed in oil not sweet like the ones at trader joes but smothered with
cumin garam masala
pepper matti indians never waste banana peels tempered chutney
that looks like a bead of doughy matti
one she’s been kneading for days bangles on
seeping into my soul with every bite the wronged wreaths of moist matti forge wedding rings over my nail beds
seventeen years later still covered in grime and matti
or whatever
a squishy coral like stomping in soft matti gossamer crap fondling my flesh in camouflage like that pink american baby
before they besmeared matti
licking the mulched chutney wrapping its bodice to find dulcet chords sweeter than those cheerios and banana chips
yes it looked like crap
but anyone at trader joes would love a bite of matti
By Palak Parikh
Biography
Palak Parikh is an emerging Indian-American writer from the San Francisco Bay Area. She is intrigued with writing as a means to foster female empowerment and connect with first generation Americans. She often explores topics like feminism, race, and cultural mongrelization. She has been recognized by the California State PTA and Alliance for Young Artists & Writers. When she is not writing, Palak enjoys drinking coffee and trying new exotic foods!