so I may not forget the tiny balcony
in my ancestral home where Baba
crouched on his haunches and smoked
in the afternoons of live cricket matches
that played on his green transistor
more than thirty years ago.
On most days that memory is enough,
even though the tobacco on the tendu leaf
turned his lungs to coal, and they said,
gone too soon. Another five, he would be
ninety. That’s as long as Amma lived
in silence, an eye turned to stone,
forgetting—milks on stoves, her children, me.
What’s the point, I say.
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A Hundred Quills 
Well written. 💯👍
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Such a beautiful poem, Sonia. So evocative! Reminded me of my Baba. 🙂
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Thanks Shilpa!
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With our elders, we don’t know whether we want them around in whatever state or go as soon as their health (mental or physical) begins to deteriorate. I love your poem and the irony therein.
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True, Punam. Thank you for being here.
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Beautiful!
~ diedre at pensivepenspost@blogspot. com
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Thank you!
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Your words grabbed my heart and held tight.
https://substack.com/home/post/p-150486288
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So kind of you!
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Hi,
I believe watching our loved ones ease slowly away from us through any kind sickness or disease makes us wonder why. We know we are losing connection with them, and that’s why it is so important to appreciate them while they are healthy.
Shalom shalom
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Indeed, Pat. It also makes us appreciate our own lives.
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Unexpected sad, sad turn!
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This was incredible, Sonia. Wonderfully written and I so admire how you evoke emotion and bring your memories to life.
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Thank you, Damyanti. I appreciate how you always take out time for reading my poems. Memories are perhaps the only things I can really write about.
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Very sad but created an effective visual.
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Thanks for reading, Alex.
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I love all the little familial details in your poem.
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Thank you for reading, Sunra.
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You’re welcome, Sonia.
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Beautiful and brilliant, Sonia. Your poem makes this experience come to life ~ thank you.
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Thank you for your kind words.
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Great twist, but (fate, not lifestyle) began to lose my close friends very early – RTAs, cancers, genetics.
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So sorry, Esther. I hear you.
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Oh, the twist!!
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it’s me, Arva. I don’t know why it shows Anonymous 🤔
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Thank you, Arva. I’m so sorry for this. I’ll check my settings to see if it’s from my end.
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Beautifully written rumination…I wonder often what the right way to live is…
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Thank you, Rajani. When you reach that stage where you begin to lose people, questions around existence and life and death float aimlessly around you.
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True… strength and love to you.
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That was a great twist at the end!
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Thank you. Great to see you here.
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You’re most welcome. It’s good to see you around too 😊
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Your poem took an unexpected turn at the end.
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It did, right? That’s how I originally planned to start.
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Interesting!
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