Inventing Words

Inventing Words

noun: condifluoia; plural noun: condifluoia


the specific scent of tea leaves in
boiling water when it soaks in six
strands of freshly grated ginger on the
hand-shredder, two pods of cardamom
halved before being cast in, one leaf
of freshly plucked basil from ma‘s
verandah, three waves of pa‘s cinnamon
shaker, one black peppercorn with one
clove, together good for the cold, and
one star anise because it looks
beautiful floating atop the pan that
is now in a soft-flowing susurrus on
its way to form a homogenous,
beige-dusky drink – the panacea for
languor of fifty monday mornings in a
single sip.


the sudden comfort, as I alluringly
lean in to inhale the vapors, of the
tattered stall at George Everest’s
where nani is methodically detailing
her recipe for masala tea to Raghu
bhaiya, which, forgotten, written, and
recalled over the years, is as
intuitive to me as a carrier pigeon
homing in on its destination.


the memory of himachal that follows.


Photo by Lisa Hobbs on Unsplash