Parents leaving today,
The pain has been blunted,
At least I have stopped wanting to be very ill;
Or may be have a little episode of some sort -
A flood, a storm, anything,
That grounds their desire to
Leave me and go.
That happened too!
When the cycle of arrivals first started,
Like luggage on the airport carousel
Parents in the air now,
Coming back in the cab.
Leaning back and closing my eyes,
Thinking of days gone past.
Even, I hate to admit, wallowing a bit,
In invented self pity.
Suddenly coming back to earth!
Do you have family here?
Young Indian cabbie...
Shy, tentative, eager to talk,
Ruma the mother kicks in.
How old are you? How long have you been here?
Do you know where the Gurudwaras are?
You have got to be kidding me...
Drive a cab while back home
Your father runs his own farm!
Five tractors and 220 buffalo?
My best friend is married to a Mona girl
Really? I will get you the photos of the gurus
And I will make you some sarson da saag!
Bhabhi....he is so shy and far away
Soon, he is telling me all
About the day he left and the whole village
Was supposed to see him off
But they didn't when he showed up shorn
and without turban the night before
At the Langar in his honour.
And so on and so forth,
He talks, I listen, and then I listen some more
Finally in my street
Pulling up in front of my door
I, sit up, ready to pay
He looks away, shy no more
You do not have to, not today
Looking at his handsome profile, half lit
I want to ask why, but decide against it
In my mind, the pain gone for the moment
Without knowing, and free from intent
He made my day and renewed my faith
Submitted by Ruma Chakravarti on Wed, 05/16/2012 - 15:04