by Nisha Shetty
My mind played weird tricks
Bringing back age-old memories
Back in small circulating gushes…
Forgetting the almost-bursting veins
Running through the length of
My muscle bereft arms…
That hung loosely without a choice
I saw glimpses of a world
That seemed as unreal as a dream…
I reached, I screamed at the haunting children
Spoiling the spread waiting to dry
In the humid coastal sun…
I heard and saw too late
Two cruelly familiar hands pull me
Back to present… cut my flight
To the energetic past…
Making me cringe and fall in heaps of bones…
While the nurturing arms tried disciplining my seasoned
Illogical mind that played mean games…
When did my son grow old enough
To corner me into a dingy room
To stop me from getting lost
In “the demons of the past” as he called them…
I cringed from comforts of the cagey room
From the restricting present… from the stranglehold
Of life on my frail body that sent message
Through wiry veins appealing for release…
Pinned down and stripped down in a double-sized gown…
I wriggled, cried, threatened… I begged, haggled, abused
I lay down for a restless night…
Realizing for the umpteenth time
That at twilight, we are all stone angels
Hardened by our weaknesses…scratching our surfaces
In the hope of eroding the prison of life…
