Her

This got written for The Great Indian Poetry challenge #12. The thing I was told to write about was ‘I couldn’t stop looking at her’.

She reminds me of postcards
and of the feeling I had when
I held on to my first set of crayons.
She’s like the first bicycle ride without a fall.
She looked at me from across the hall,
and I, couldn’t stop looking at her.

Supernova smile. Jupiter jawline.
Neptune neck and her earthly eyes.
She takes me along on cosmic walks
and bends me, the way light bends
near a black hole; she is all the gravity that there is
in the Universe, and I, have no choice but to fall.
Oh Boy, I couldn’t stop looking at her.

There are times when she tap-taps Morse code
onto my shoulders with her lips,
and I respond with profane gospels
mumbled into her ears.
It was 4 AM and we had just got done making love,
and I, couldn’t stop looking at her.

We fight. She has tornadoes
at the tip of her tongue.
She throws around her wood-chunk words
and I crumble them with my hacksaw haughtiness.
She looked at me like a bell jar
about to implode,
and I, couldn’t stop looking at her.

She now reminds me of songs
I will never be able to write.
and also of the feeling you get
when you lose your favorite action figure.
She looked at me from the photograph,
and from the deafening silence she’s now become.
Hollow, like eaten-up wood.
Winters did come; winters did leave.
Yet I, couldn’t stop looking at her.

The Parting Gift ( Part 1)

“Sorry Sir, but Chitra asked specifically to not let you meet her. I’m afraid you’ll have to go back again.”, said the man at the apartment lobby.

Thanking him, Viren said a goodbye and left.

It had been three years since he had met her. This was just another of his efforts to reach out to her. Just another efforts gone in vain. She never took any of his calls. Never called him back. Never. The last time they had spoken was on her birthday 2 years back. It had been a curt conversation. Her voice had seemed as sweet as it could.He imagined her wearing her birthday dress, with those feather earrings he had sent her. He was sure though, she would have never worn them in real. Yet his thoughts were a kind of a sanctuary where he could think of his daughter in any way he wanted to. He wanted to imagine her like that little girl who used to wear that pink frock and used to give it a swirl and see how big the swirl went. That was a picture he always drew in his mind. And then the way she used to—

Suddenly a shrill ringtone pierced his ears, and gatecrashed into his train of thought.

‘Arush’. The phone screen said. He did not know whether to take that call or not. Their past conversations had never really ended well. Not that he expected them to, after all, he was his ex-wife’s elder brother.

Nevertheless, his calls were never without a good reason, so he took the call anyway.

“Hello”.

” Arush here. Are you free? I need to talk to you.”

” Yes sure, go ahead.” 

He realized he was nervous and his hands were beginning to sweat a little.

“Well, the thing is we went to the doctor again today. He has asked us to get some tests done. Look, you know I’m not fond of you, okay? But here it’s about Chitra. She has lost a lot of weight recently and her mother and I have really been worried. You know Chitra won’t agree to meet you, but then, you still are her father. So there are things you need to know about her life. Asha won’t call you, so as her brother, here I am breaking the news to you. Chitra has tested positive for a few tests. This worries the doctor. Doctor says her WBC count is going up at a steady rate, and that is not good. So we were wondering if you could meet us–“

“Us?”
“Me and Asha, tonight. There are things we need to discuss.”

“Me asha, tonight. There are things we need to discuss.”