He throws a ball at me
I let it drop
The birds sing for some time until the leaves turn dark
It's been years, we've been apart
His smile sits on his face
Exactly as it was
When I was in love with him a decade ago.
I've never meant to be anything more
But we still end up here
Under the tree, our bicycles long gone
He's proud of his wife, she's giving him a son
I could show him the letters I wrote
I could show him what he doesn't know
Ah, it was too long ago.
The night sky purples
As I sit with him, our cigarettes lit
He's still dribbling, talking about the friends we've lost
Talking about how I haven't changed almost
And I ask the moon, is this it?
I've lied to my lover but I love him enough
I'm tied to you, who would've broken my heart
Who says it's been years we've stayed apart?
My childhood was inside books- Fairy tales and detective stories; Tonight when the city dies another death I clutch at my laptop I look up those books But I can’t go back to my grandmother’s old apartment and get them
I can’t go back to When I was not more than three feet high When I felt pretty And the green grass called me
It doesn’t, anymore How strange it is that the grass loses voice And I lose mine
I was nine but my little palm Could hold a world of confidence I trapped it in my fist and placed it on my hips I wore my blue frock and posed And I thought the world was mine
Now I think I was stupid Now I know I was happy Now I know, it’s childhood
The grass, the sky, the trees, the roads, Hell, even the streetlights after rain They’ve all lost their voices My old books lie dead Do they miss a blue-frocked girl?
But I miss her She didn’t care about the bad days she had She was me, some day. Now, just a third person pronoun I can’t reach
I’ll allow myself some tears While wishing she were here She has a lot that she could teach.
The dead Shiuli tree stands like a grave
Mourning its unborn flowers.
I hated picking them up every morning
From our little backyard soil
During Durga Puja
The air hung heavy with the sweet scent
While ants crawled up my feet
Mosquitoes feasted on my flesh
But once my basket was full
I'd stare at their beauty
The little white flowers
Throbbing with their little saffron hearts
Sang of a time
Calmer and earthy
A time of faith in a goddess
With as many as ten hands
To defeat evil
A celebration danced with
Beats of the dhaak.
Now my hands are full
With questions and silences
I want a basket to hold
To rush through the new Puja magazine
To breathe in the fragrant breeze.
The flowers have dropped
Through the emptiness between my fingers
The colours have faded
Before my overworked eyes.
The storm took away the tree one night
And left me stranded
With the dead arms of a broken tree
Wailing for a hug;
Now I'm grieving something
I never thought I cared for.
Mellowing in memories of the past
I shut my eyes of today
I hope for nothing more.
mimimusing 