My forever memory of her, is someone who was cool and composed as she endlessly made dosas. Silently eyeing the shape of the pancake, slightly adjusting the flame, and at times looking into the blackhole of the skillet.
Always perfect dosas, just the right edge of crisp and the right tinge of burn. She never seemed to mind the heat or the flame. Even as she sometimes made thirty odd dosas for the hungry wolves.
The heat never bothered her. She was the one who held her calm against the fire.
Today the coals must be so missing their adversary.
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