Embers of Memory
In the heart of the street
Encircled by familiar faces
I beheld
While returning from tuition.
The quivering glow of streetlights
In the tender hours of morning
Surrounded by fireflies’ ethereal dance
I beheld
While strolling at dawn.
The dense, threadbare woollen blankets
Draped over frail elder frames
I beheld
While soaking in the sun’s gentle embrace.
The steaming bowl of kanji
Lovingly brewed by my mother
I savoured at midday
Amidst playful quarrels with my siblings.
Yes, this is but a fragment
A fragment of my childhood
Beneath winter’s gentle cloak
Where warmth was more than just the fire.
The Woman Who Never Returned
In the temple
After my circumambulation
I sat
Beside a beggarwoman
I offered her five hundred rupees
Her joy lit up the air.
I thought to linger
To speak with her a while
Her lifeless hands
Still held the spark of living
Her brown skin glowed
Honey-dipped, chocolate-coated
Radiant against the odds.
The stories she wove
Were intricate, alive
Tugging at threads of the hear
And when our words had run their course,
She smiled
A smile so human, so pure
It lingers with me still.
Four years have passed since COVID
I’ve returned to the temple
Four more times
Each time
After my circumambulation
I sit at the same spot
Hoping to see her again
To hear her voice
To hold her hand
Even just once.
But alas!
She never came back.
The Earth’s Summer Attire
The Earth prefers
To wear earthly-coloured
Sarees after three months
Of draping robes
In winter’s hues.
Now, she chooses
Orange and yellow, dark and pale
The vibrancy of her hues
Makes her outshine
Alongside her eternal
Amorous partner, the Sun
The brightest in her circle.
Their close bond
Makes passersby
Sweat profusely
Drink deeply.
For the next four months
They listen to none
Form or formless
Their union brings
Harmony and balance
To all the families of Earth
And fosters good relations
Throughout the solar system.
