NIRA
by
PRIYANJOLI

***

you once brought me some records

and played it with so much fervour.

i searched for them today

and instead found your handkerchief.

soft to the touch

tender to the memory.

***

***

do you remember

the hot summer afternoons at our house?

i take the swing

you read your books

and in the evening

you make chai for us

the ocean air

the moving swing

the smell of tea,

you and me.

***

***

what is with these birds?

they sing and chirp

and fly and fly.

they don’t carry suitcases,

lunch bags or mortgages.

are there any sad birds?

i wonder.

some bird songs are sad

but they are not filled with sadness,

only longing.

***