It was fine when books
reminded me of you.
But it got terrifying the day
I started to look for you in poems.

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I bulit a house
At the shore of the
Ocean of your memories
And enjoyed its cool waves
Occasionally kissing my feet.

But the ocean turned fatal
The waves turned lethal
And the same moana
That I so cherished
Engulfed me in its rage.

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If I were a memory
I'd be the day when
maa taught me how to close
the lid of a pressure cooker.
How she told me that
I must not get frustated and
gently twist & then turn the lid
until it fits the periphery of the cooker.
A memory of how she inadvertently
taught me that I'd not fit into
those new people if I haste,
so I'd have to identify their edges,
gradually try to fit in and
then make myself belong there.

A memory of how maa was
always with me like a memory.

-

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मेरी आँखों को खाली बैठना पसंद नहीं।
इसलिए अक्सर उन्हें बंद कर
तुम्हें देख लिया करता हूँ।

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Yesterday = Today's Memory
Tomorrow = Today's Dream

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उदासी जोंक है।
चिपक जाती है
किसी याद
किसी जगह
किसी गीत से।

- सुप्रिया मिश्रा

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