I’m from
power-cuts.
From
one AC and loud crows crowing early in the mornings,
I’m
from the streets outside my house, littered
with cow dung
I’m
from the juicy Guava and the stolen Jambu
I’m
from cold-coffee and lost retainers
From the
fascinating myths my grandparents told me
I’m
from “come
and get me” and “no one cares!”
From
“turn that music down!” AND “what do you want?”
I’m
from a BIG pink dog, who till this day
remains unnamed.
I’m
from Dragon Tales and
The
Beatles, listening to the familiar sound of
my brother’s long forgotten radio
From
hours of hide AnD SEEK, a very competitive game of tag
Shoved onto the top-most
shelf in my closet, filled from
cover to cover with memories of weddings, birthdays
and anniversaries, and
pictures of me in a bath.
Times before I was born
and after.
And some blank pages
waiting for me to fill in with my own memories.
