Calcutta is unreal. I saw a woman once with two little kids lying on the street on a hot, summer day. The heat made me feel like an 80 year old as I walked in my sweat-soaked loneliness in that inflamed, busy city. How many of us has walked away when we see pain? I have, with a heart that even Superman can’t lift. And I tell myself that mine is nothing compared to her pain, or to a millions others.
Mom carries the loss of her first child on her aging, stooping shoulder. Year after year. She never talks about it but sometimes she says nonchalantly while listening on the radio that my late sister once told her that she wanted to watch this particular movie but she never got to.
And my fingers froze as I thought of bitter tasting meds & the constant fatigue of a terminal illness that stole her away from us. The onions started to blur in front of my eyes as I was slicing it. What is it with onions & tears? I knew the answer once when I was in school but..that was a long time ago.I should sue my brain or the onions
On nights like this in an electricity-less city that I call home, I thought of the recent onion-triggered moments in my life that I’ve misplaced it somewhere...
Between my folded heart.