on my dada’s knee


NaPoWriMo 2017

For hour’s I devoured, stories of a world abandoned
Faraway lands that came to life, his pupils and his hands in tandem; I sat on my dada’s knee

Shaking couplets, tears intercepted with guffaws
Fingers caressed the spineless book that had escaped, also outlawed; I sat on my dada’s knee

Horseback rides, orchard strolls, rooftop gatherings
I held tight on the trot, plucked ripe mangoes, crackled corn, went along on his meanderings; I sat on my dada’s knee

Maimed, Raped, Orphaned, Robbed – preparatory words
I asked why he hated train journeys – he murmured something about the whir; I sat on my dada’s knee

I also asked why he was so tall yet so bent ;so handsome yet so forlorn
He hunched under the weight of his Kashiana separated and dispersed; the partition of his beautiful subcontinent had left him hoarse; he lived with the ghosts of the many he could not mourn;
I sat on my dada’s knee

Published by Kashiana

I am a management professional by job classification and a work practitioner by personal preference. One poetry collection - Shelling Peanuts and Stringing Words and a chapbook, Crushed Anthills. Always gathering poems, and letting them marinate and change shape and form.

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