• woodsorrels 18w

    Legging out
    Of that two-roomed quarter
    My father drew me
    The first time I shifted
    To another city for
    Studies was not less
    Than a breakup
    The way I had snuggled
    Those nude desolate walls
    With the cement of care
    And compassion
    And a chaplet of hellebores
    I had garnished at the foyer
    Everything came across
    So flare and familiar
    Like the slivers of a charade
    That alone pillar in the space
    With which I lounged first
    After Abba left squawked
    Of my chuckles and chats
    The barn red counter still
    Scented of the lemons
    And lablabs and the
    Bald shelves were
    Camouflaging my tears
    Of the day I barbecued
    Horrible Murgh Musallam without
    Amma being there to
    Dictate how much spices
    And how many of the simmers
    And the place where
    I analyzed was window side
    Hidden within a salmon-yellow
    Shirt with little dry yarrows in pockets
    A keepsake of my boyfriend
    The wall behind my back
    Was like my mother on periods,
    The sidewalls my friends
    Loaning ears to my chitter-chatter
    And the shelf piece behind
    Resisted my Grandma's unfit
    Citrine beaded bracelet that
    I used to don and carry
    With me as her being around
    The other room was
    More like a drawing room
    Despite no one visited considerably
    So I muffled there my off-season
    Clothes and pennies in the closet
    And a mud pot of
    Raw mango water pickle
    On unclothed cool floor


    #nostalgia #stardust #writersnetwork #miraquill

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    Two-roomed Quarter

    I remember when I left the place I left
    year-long memories crowded in cracks of doors,
    A bundle at the charging point some in latches of
    the doors and some stuck at the ceiling with a gush
    of cries flown by the water from the washbowl
    All that breathed was a show of dust and
    the stardust of the past