Morning light pours in,

from the chink in the roof,

leaving lace like patterns on the veranda.

I watch my grandma milk the cow,

its smell fills my nostrils.

later, when the conch resonates,

I run across the paddy fields.

I insist on going,

until she promises me a candy.

 

Twenty years later,

My grandmas’ body burns in a pyre,

along the bank of river.

And the burning continues,

of the known, and the unknown.

Darkness starts inside of me,

And my life moves on.

 

This long afternoon,

I wade across the creek, as

the water meanders through rocks,

and never returns, just like my life,

a rudderless ship,

drifting in a vast turquoise sea.