DELHI 1998.

A MOTHER AND DAUGHTER AND MEMORIES.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grishma is seeing
The coming of dawn;
The sun moves across

 

Her room on tiptoes
As if to surprise.
You are watching the

 

Excitement in her eyes;
The sound of her voice
Brings memories of

 

Your own childhood like
Goods from afar. Your
Father is wiping

 

His brow after a
Hard day’s labour; the
Beard is dripping with

 

Perspiration, his
Eyes peer at you with
Deep wonder. Are you

 

Looking for the dawn,
Tanisha? He asks,
The tall loving man

 

In your memory.
There is that eye of
Death looking back, that

 

Heavy labour of
Lungs to hold the breath.
Grishma slowly draws

 

The circle of the
Sun with her small curved
Finger in the air;

 

There is the self same
Worship of warmth
That you once had, that

 

Reaching out for life,
That wanting of the
New. Your father’s fine

 

Features play in dim
Shadows on the wall,
The echo of his words

 

Sound like birdsong in
The house’s dark hall.