Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Time Travel

I was not born with you, lying by my side
I have not seen you, untainted by sins
I have not been bewitched, by your innocence
Nor have I played hopscotch with you in the sun.
If only, I was born with you
Lying by my side…

Yet we met, entwined together
By two families, steeped in tradition
Yet we met, immersed in ignorance

I knew not who I was,
When I was made to know you
We grew together
I was I, you were you
And we slowly grew, I followed you
You carried me, and we walked together
I knew not who I was,
But I found me through you

It began with respect
Lest our memories forget
How you held my hand
At the crowded bus stand
Knowing that I had you, made me strong
I never felt alone, because you walked along

Your head arched on my shoulder
I trembled, you held on
Your silence was our song
After 11 years of marriage
On June 14th I knew
That I am in love, with my husband

We embraced each other’s folly
We rowed against the river
Until responsibility became a necessity
And I knew that there is no life
Without your voice seeking me
Every morning, even if for a cup of tea

Children bred, shared our bed
Saw them growing up
Grew up with them
Fought battles, saw truth
Tainted by wisdom
Wrinkle lines grew
Your receding hairline
My grey hair;
The fountain of youth
And castles in sand
Blurred with time

That last vision of you
Resting in your arm chair
Passing in peace
The curtains swaying in the wind
Are etched in my eternity
Stubborn against fading memory

The grandchildren have only heard stories
Of how Dadaji was so legendary
Sometimes, when I look in the mirror
I can feel your presence behind me;
And when the children ask me why
I powder my nose before I go to bed
And smear my wrinkled lips red;
I tell them, that if Dadaji comes in my dream
I want to look beautiful for him.

(based on the true story of my friend Sahar's grandmother)
Image credit: Salvodar Dali's Persistence of Memory 

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