twice this month
i have forgotten we are now strangers
something small online
making me want to talk to you
a mutual friend (though i guess
i can't call them this anymore)
or something you liked (do you
still like the same things?)
this world we live in now
apart
is so quiet
so still
lonely, even
how fickle the heart is
flitting from one love to another
as if yesterday's love didn't have us
aching for more
but today, our heart blooms
for another
and tomorrow, a different palm will
rest against ours
a different heart
making ours beat faster
The death knell sounds from the house opposite ours
A life that has been withering away has finally breathed its last
And someone from the past resurfaces, taking unsure steps
Towards a present we don't know each other in
Arrack warms our bones, fills our laughter with an added something
Joy, I think to myself, happiness, love, friendship
The ease of it takes me by surprise, but then, some things are just easy, aren't they?
And outside, the rain falls and falls, the wind is cold, the skies grey
And beyond, lives come together, part ways, reunite, bid farewell
And you and I? What of us?
Does it even matter?
Our intimacy existed in a vacuum
The early hours of the day
And if you ever asked me if I wished
For things to have been different
Adamantly, I would have said no
And yet, there is one moment
I've never told you or anyone about
You stood at the doorway of your bedroom
Looking straight at me
You stopped, just for a moment
Perhaps switching off the bathroom light
i don't remember
You stood there naked, looking at me
As I lay on your bed
Perhaps I smiled at you then
Everything felt so light, golden
These early hours of the day that were ours
There was a softness to what I saw
Your almirah, ajar
A backpack on a chair, clothes on the floor
And then, you, standing there,
Looking at me
And just for a moment,
I wanted more
God, I wished you were mine
Gingie is too often hangry, meowing complaints about
A lack of food - even though her bowl is so rarely empty
Sometimes, she will bite or scratch in protest
Of how badly she is (supposedly) treated in our house
And yet, when she finally found her way home
After a two-week absence that left our hearts aching
And our feet too, after long searches in the neighbourhood
Her eyes reflected the relief and joy that surely she saw in mine
This cat, ginger and clingy, annoying but affectionate, had come back
Even though she could have found a new home, like she had claimed ours years ago,
Forcing us to open our doors and hearts to her when we had already
Decided we had had enough with the pain that comes with a feline's death
And now she sleeps on my bed, tummy rising up and down
While I work on my laptop right next to her, thinking:
This is the life I want - this love and contentment that comes with
Sharing your house with a (mostly hangry) cat that only has love to give
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| Word of the day: hangry feeling irritable or irrationally angry as a result of being hungry |
The glass dish that belonged to my grandmother
exploded when I poured cold batter into it
to make goddamn toad in the hole for dinner
I say exploded, but it made the faintest sound and
suddenly there, on the table, a mess of broken glass
and dripping batter and blistered sausages
I know what happens when you pour cold into hot
I had read about exploding bakewear so many times
and yet, it just never occurred to me tonight
And so, a new batch of batter whisked and poured into a different dish
and placed in the oven
I sat on my bed, trying not to cry
thinking about how unkind life had been lately
taking and taking and taking
giving too, but mostly, taking
and I thought, 'One more bad card dealt
and I will be done. Just done.'
And then I thought about how I'd thought this very same thing
a few weeks ago
but so many bad things had happened since
and here I was, still.
They talked about resilience and perseverance and strength
when I had to put on a brave face and pretend everything was fine
and I would think about how it had
nothing to do with bravery
we got through one bad day after another
not because we wanted to
or still had some fight left in us but because
we had to.
You know, it never occurred to me but when things between us died down
an inevitability given the one-sided-ness of our feelings
I expected the end to be dramatic and explosive and loud
but it wasn't. It was so underwhelming
almost like it didn't even happen
everything seemed fine one minute
and the next,
it was all gone.
Death and grief
Always hand in hand
In my mind
There could be no grief without death
No death without grief
But many deathless griefs
And some griefless deaths later
One is free of the other
Deaths, not recent
Grief, so everyday
A kingfisher sits on the fence and I tell Olive
To make a wish as it flies away
Just as my grandmother told me
Years ago, when I was still a kid
The kingfisher doesn't budge
So I tell Olive, who has just turned three (in human years, not dog),
To forget the wish as it surely won't come true
If we stare at the bird until it flies away
A woodpecker, a deep red, pecks on the mango tree
Two parrots sit on an overhead powerline
A flock of seven sisters sing their high-pitched songs
And a bulbul builds a nest in the verandah
And so they go about their lives
Just as I go about mine
Each with our own joys and sorrows
Whether brought on by magpies or not
And I hold on to some childish hope
That a brightly coloured, long-billed bird
Unaware of its wish-granting powers
Could bring me luck as it flies away
Word of the day: bulbul
