Eyes can never have enough of the sea she has borne.
They say that the centre
of the Earth is a woman’s belly-
button, on the ocean floor.
Drain the seas and her oyster eyes
appear, encasing tears, reflecting books
tall as skyscrapers, the riot
of trees straight-jacketed. No wonder
they don’t speak to you now,
and the human voice, too, is at the edge
of disappearance. For a while,
the undulating lines of hills are being
mercilessly flattened – is he leaving
or returning? – but first everything was made
sterile and miniscule and veiled by layers
of cloud and a spectacular sunset for distraction
to the orchestra of orange windows.
Then the long, sweaty, choking auto-ride
from the airport to the station
and once again that cool, almost chilly
atmosphere of the caterpillar compartment.
She has brought him a bouquet of celery,
his favourite, and the saree is the same one
she wore when he had left, when he will leave,
but she doesn’t remember. How could she?
Now, any moment now, that face will appear,
the face of her rebirth, but it is gone.
Eyes can never have enough of the sea
she has borne. She will return home
to make rasam and rice, and after watching
the late-hour comedy serial with her husband
lie wide awake in the dark, the oyster
eyes prised, the ocean drained.
19-07-21
Mumbai
Snehal Vader
Author
With his second appearance on Centre For Conversations Snehal dwells into a kind of poetry that bridges the mundane and the metaphysical. Currently based out of Dharamshala, Himachal, we can find him doing his hikes, walks, cycling expeditions and of course literature and creative writing.
2 Comments
Leave a Reply
More Conversations
The Value of Useless Skills
One of the days in the last week of March in 2018 in Bangalore, I found myself attending a workshop on stone balancing. Strange as it sounds, it had been organised for teachers who had just finished the term. It was part of a retreat before we all went home for the...
D for Divine
I think most of us have met the divine at some point. We may not have recognised it, but we have met it. Not only in places of worship or through rituals and scriptures. Sometimes it arrives in quieter ways. A sudden sense of well being for no clear reason. The ease...
The Tension
The word tension creates tension A subtle turbulence that compels us to make a choice We are often taught to avoid it to escape it to resolve it And I wonder if staying with tension is not as bad as we are made to believe Creativity emerges in the tension between...
Hello skanda and snehal, thanks for connecting me on to the wonderfull piece of conversation. I am lucky to have been tagged into this great initiative.
Skanda, I’m your ex student at the valley school, Bengaluru, shiny’s mom, vandana.
Snehal..reading your prose, made me journey with the woman in the waiting.
With gratitude , Luv and peace
Hello Vandana, thank you for your response and thanks for visiting our space. I hope you also get to look through all the other work we have put up here. Looking forward to more conversations with you. (Shiny’s mom and Shiny are very much part of my memory and I fondly remember them)
Skanda