The Court Of Curiosity

I was cleaning the kitchen and found a package of tamarind. I remember eating them when I was younger. I would eat them until my mouth blistered. It was so painful but sure enough every time I had the chance, I would eat them until I felt pain. My grandmother told me to stop but she never enforced it. So yeah.

I cracked open the shells and was taken back to a time when I would help my mother crack them to make juice. I loved this time. Because I had access to so much tamarind. That’s probably why my tongue is kinda fucked up now.

I put them into a pot with some other herbs I found around my kitchen. Fever grass. Sorrel. Stinging nettle. Just add water and put it on the stove to boil. Growing up, my grandmother always had tea for us. Every morning. Bush tea. She used a lot of sugar to sweeten it for us. We had it every single day. I would have to go into the backyard to pick the leaves that we would use. Now I buy herbs in bulk online. My mom and sister have a plot in a community garden where we can get some stuff.

I don’t know if there is anything specific that the tea I made is for. All I know is that it feels good. It feels like something familiar. Something necessary for me.