You built a mystic world for me and almost effortlessly became my home. A world that was naive and biased. Biased in favour of me. Where everything was absolute and understood. Where , even most fragile of beings would gain strength, simply by thy touch, by thy glare, and now.. by thy memory.
Vision did fade from those oceanic eyes, but it still flared with voice! Your raw and recklessly hanging wrinkles which i used to pull and play, your protruding green veins, countable strands of hair, your hard grown nails and rubber tooth, your suspicious stare, your body wobbling laughter, your sitting and sleeping, your slow reading, your pathetic singing, your eye flooding giggle, your shy, your tickle and every miniscule detail of your top to toe housed such high degree of cuteness that any fastidious creature would easily fall and sink into!
Alas! What a loss for thy precious five stone mookuthi! Instead of shining up on your nose, lighting up itself and your face, it is lying locked up wasting it's life in here. You walked up and down the outside concrete stairs and earth beside this house bare foot, not willing to taint your soft, specially made shoes. Now that pair is still lying new , without having a fat cracked foot to stand under. Our cupboard still confines your warmth, your essence, your smell amid each of its eight yard saree folds. The white polished walls carry your palm prints fair and unfaded.. I forgave each time when u blurted out mistakenly my brother's name instead of mine,. I remained calm when u soiled and coloured my white Lenin shirt in the name of washing, I rushed away as if unnoticed when u stealthy stuffed extra food into my tiffin box.. I didn't yell at you when those pickle bottles that u had slipped silently into my baggage stained my clothes.. but this time you have crossed it.. and I won't spare you for this!
Historic life you lived and most gracefully you did leave. But to our mystic world of fairy tale and abyss, a dead end this will always remain. And here, smoking your memories, adult by thine absence ..stoic and still I stand, indifferent to pleasure or pain.
Vision did fade from those oceanic eyes, but it still flared with voice! Your raw and recklessly hanging wrinkles which i used to pull and play, your protruding green veins, countable strands of hair, your hard grown nails and rubber tooth, your suspicious stare, your body wobbling laughter, your sitting and sleeping, your slow reading, your pathetic singing, your eye flooding giggle, your shy, your tickle and every miniscule detail of your top to toe housed such high degree of cuteness that any fastidious creature would easily fall and sink into!
Alas! What a loss for thy precious five stone mookuthi! Instead of shining up on your nose, lighting up itself and your face, it is lying locked up wasting it's life in here. You walked up and down the outside concrete stairs and earth beside this house bare foot, not willing to taint your soft, specially made shoes. Now that pair is still lying new , without having a fat cracked foot to stand under. Our cupboard still confines your warmth, your essence, your smell amid each of its eight yard saree folds. The white polished walls carry your palm prints fair and unfaded.. I forgave each time when u blurted out mistakenly my brother's name instead of mine,. I remained calm when u soiled and coloured my white Lenin shirt in the name of washing, I rushed away as if unnoticed when u stealthy stuffed extra food into my tiffin box.. I didn't yell at you when those pickle bottles that u had slipped silently into my baggage stained my clothes.. but this time you have crossed it.. and I won't spare you for this!
Historic life you lived and most gracefully you did leave. But to our mystic world of fairy tale and abyss, a dead end this will always remain. And here, smoking your memories, adult by thine absence ..stoic and still I stand, indifferent to pleasure or pain.
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