Skip to main content

Memory

I remember the smell of burnt diesel from my teenage rail journeys. I also remember the color of your t-shirt, it was saffron. You had cut your hair small and were wearing a hair band. You had done up your eyebrows and your eyes sparkled and caught the light coming through the windows.

We sat close, you liked it that way. I remember the heady fragrance of your perfume as it mingled with diesel fumes. The world outside was greener then, and there seemed to be to many yellow flowers in the fields. Surprisingly, I remember little of what we spoke. I remember the chug of diesel engines negotiating curves and I remember you and I standing by open doors, counting bogies. You counting the bogies and I counting the seconds you cling on to me, living each moment of togetherness, as if it were eternity.

I love trains. Half my lines have trains in them.

Comments

Popular Posts

Long Winter Chill

If I could do a Neruda,
You would have smelt of summer roses
And Autumn pine.
There would have been sheer love
Of the kind that causes our hearts to ache
And loneliness bordering the divine.
You would have had so many secrets
Welling up as in a girly giggle
And so few friends who would hear them all.I am no Neruda
I can't paint you a Summer breeze
Amidst this long winter chill.

The Color That Blinds

Every time I close my eyes
I see the green of Kerala countryside
The dark greens of lumbering rubber trees
The even tranquil green of silent paddy fields
The light lemon yellow green from tender clover leaves 

And then I remember your dupatta
Deep red or possibly maroon
Standing out among the Kerala countrysides.

Hush

You don't have to tell me.
I just know.
Its that little sniffle that comes through
The unexplained pauses
The slow responsesI know when you call
Just because you needed to cry.