A kitchen (English Ghazal)

Clutching my sweaty hands, he plugs me inside my kitchen
Lost I am, flabbergast, I look at wall around this hi-fi kitchen

Glossy cabinets clothe surrounding walls, under
My bare feet, a soft carpet feels good in this dry kitchen

News scream from walls, cool air floods this room, there is
Even an attached wash room close by kitchen

I cannot squat down and serve, I am confused, how
do I cook? I keep standing on my toes in this high kitchen.

The families serve their own meals, emptying big tumblers of food
Village home is better, Munni wish she could say “goodbye kitchen”