AN ODE TO SORPOTEL
For the hotch potch known as Haggis
Let the Scotsman yearn or yell
For the taste of Yorkshire pudding
Let the English family dwell.
For the famed Tandoori Chicken
That Punjabi's praise like hell
But for us who hail from Goa
There's nothing like SORPOTEL!
From the big wigs in Colaba
To the small fry in Cavel
From the growing tribes in Bandra
To the remnants in Parel
From the lovely girls in Glaxo
To the boys in Burma Shell
There's no Goan whose mouth won't water
When you talk of SORPOTEL!
And Oh! for Christmas dinner
Don't you think it would be swell
If by some freak of fortune
Or by some magic spell
We could, as they have in Goa
A bottle of the cajel
And toddy leavened sannas
To go with SORPOTEL!
--- anonymous
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