Guavas
GuavasIt was a big tree , green leaves , laden
With yellow gold guavas.
The best part,
they were
red or onion pink within,
Tied to that tree
are all our childhood stories ,
Our history,
That little tree house
A bunch of us built,
With red bricks
our special place.
Grandma majestic ,
with gleaming silver in her hair,
shooing away the trespassers ,
Guarding her clan,
Hurling choicest abuses with elan,
recounting gory stories ,
Of dearth and depravity,
A partition that tore
her heart
And her away
From everything known , her favourite aunt,
Her little dog,
A loving heart!
Those weren't times
When people cared,
about appropriateness,
Children or trauma,
Those were the days of survival,
Nani said you grab , guard,
Sit like a snake
on what is yours,
Those hundreds of guavas,
are all ours,
Belong to us,
Fall in our boundary wall!
Let them rot or decay,
Don't let anyone usurp, come close
Take it all away!
She would sigh lost in time,
Transfixed !
Like all little kids we chose,
to giggle ,
at anything odd, uncomfortable.
Sometimes i tried,
to smuggle some over ripe ones,
forsome poor child,
But it was hard
To get past her
Vigilant eye,
Her nose could smell deceit , danger.
She slept with her eyes open,
Through those summer afternoons,
Always in the room
Peeping through the jaali window!
We thought nani was mean, small hearted even,
But now I can see ,
She had been baptised ,
In blood,
Sometimes the atrocity
is too big ,
It colors
even your golden
guava trees!
Poetry by Seema
Read 161 times
Written on 2023-06-16 at 06:17
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by SeemaLatest textsFalling and risingNew words Guavas Families The lost song |
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