Bitter Love/Hate Tales

In the realm of taste, a tale unfolds,

Of bitter moments, both love and cold.

Where Tikta dances upon our tongue,

A bitter flavour, since we were young.

Oh Tikta, the parwal and drumsticks too,

In our meals, Mom's secret imbued.

She'd chop and stir, with loving care,

But bitterness, we could not bear.

Mom's gentle voice, with words so wise,

"Bitter is better," she'd emphasize.

With hopeful eyes, she'd watch us try,

To embrace the taste, with a heavy sigh.

Oh Tikta, amla, and more to taste,

In our childhood, a bitter chase.

From wrinkled faces to cries of despair,

We tried to escape, oh how we dared.

Yet Mom persisted, undeterred,

She knew the power of what we preferred.

In curries, salads, and bitter brews,

She wove Tikta in, our health to pursue.

Through bitter battles, we learned to see,

The hidden treasures that bitterness be.

For Tikta, though harsh, held secret grace,

A treasure trove of nutrients to embrace.

With time we grew, our palates matured,

And bitterness no longer obscured.

We found delight in that bitter bite,

A taste that once brought such fright.

Oh Tikta, bitter and yet so kind,

In memories, a peculiar find.

A love-hate relationship we've shared,

With Mom's guidance, we've learned to bear.

So raise a toast to Tikta's might,

A taste that once caused bitter fights.

For in its bitterness, we now find,

A flavour cherished, and love entwined.