March 07, 2013

The Tray

By Naomi Shihab Nye

Even on a sorrowing day
the little white cups without handles
would appear
filled with steaming hot tea
in a circle on the tray,
and whatever we were able
to say or not say,
the tray would be passed,
we would sip
in silence,
it was another way
lips could be speaking together,
opening on the hot rim,
swallowing in unison.

March 06, 2013


The lower side of the small wooden cupboard, kept next to my bed, has been home to a circular box with buttons, needles and threads of this house. The box and its place have not changed over the last 26 years. Although, during the early days of my childhood it had a companion  - an elegant perfume bottle which belonged to my Bade Papa. I remember Magnet for the shape of its head and the logo which emulated the bottle design. I remember Bade Papa, dressed in his off white shirt and dark trousers, wearing this perfume before leaving the house every morning. It was such a part of his routine! And a such a dot tiny part of my memory of him.

I was looking for a courier shop at a random market this morning. While talking on the phone, I walked into a small lane where I spotted Magnet sitting in a dilapidated window of a tiny shop. I knew I had to buy it at once. The shopkeeper said it was handkerchief perfume! I laughed! Bade papa used to wear handkerchief perfume! I bought it never the less, thankful for having found it after all these years!

On my way back, I realized it has been exactly one year since Bade Papa died. I don't know if this was his way of couriering Magnet to me but I am happy; it has found its way back to the wooden cupboard, next to the needle box after so any years. I am even happier that I will smell like Bade Papa now. And together we will smell like handkerchieves! ;p

March 01, 2013



I have to stop
running away from you


This relationship we share
changes every three months


Lets sit with a map
and make a plan


Share a song
with lyrics to read into


or fight at least