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.