Tuesday, June 11, 2024

AN ODD RECOLLECTION

 

School summer break, little Indian town

mid noon stares of burning sun on empty streets 

the small iron grilled window up the wall

one nine year and another ten

perched on the long couch below

fried cashews and raisins afloat the milky rice pudding 

my mum's little summer treat.

 

couch jumping a naughty pastime 

mum's reprimand on siblings deaf ears

sudden fear in my eyes replace the frolic

a tall strange rustic face at the windowsill

my sister runs for mum

he threatens to kill my dad.

stone faced; body transfixed

my twin ears hear door latched from outside

frantic steps of my mum from inside 

he disappears.


Desperate attempt to open the door, 

shout for neighbours

their doors latched like ours, 

phones alien in our town houses then

huddled in houses, mum stares out of window

clock ticks, some passersby on street at last

our door unlatched. 


subsequent unlatch of neighbour's doors 

men returning home from work

setting sun has a tale to settle

the afternoon scares shared 

a tight hug from dad, we feel safe.


A thief my dad caught in a house break in.

a different street, a different year

yet his memory strong of my father's face

just like mine today

his revenge found our address

my dessert of raisin and cashew lost taste.











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