The sadness made a home out of this body
And there wasn't enough space for the both of us here
I could feel myself become empty,
Feel my body become things it never has been;
I felt the sadness seep in when I was already done getting out of myself,
I wasn't there anymore.
The sadness made a house out of my bones
And I collapsed into things that did not resemble a person anymore.
I am still trying to look for pieces in the rubble
And create a whole person out of all this mess.
The wound bleeds.
The wound bleeds,
Gushing with everything
That was intended to be kept on the inside.
This safe of a body was not meant to be shared, sliced open,
Quite so literally.
The blood will soon clot off, sealing everything temporarily//
Body's own defense mechanism.
The surgeon will surgically remove the growth.
The local anesthetic will make your body funny;
You'll feel your ear become a fabric,
The sound of sewing of sutures
Rings in your head as the surgeon finishes.
He is impressed with how well you handled the needles.
You smile.
Being numb doesn't even feel like numbness-
A lot more like no pain
But your body turns into things
It has never been.
When you exit the operating room
He tells you to keep the dressings dry.
You text a friend,
Tell them not to hit you in the head again-
You just had surgery.
It rains on your way home.
Wears Chicken embroidery Kurtas with pants to give the perfect combination of modern and traditional
Long, long haired women who always wear a braid to keep it out of their way
Glasses. Simple glasses. Removing them makes you look like a different person. Fuck contact lenses, you say
Have read The Mahabharata, The Bhagvad Gita, The Ramayana multiple times and analysed it to the point you know it better than your grandmother.
The stories of Akbar Birbal are a vivid part of your childhood
STEM students with an intense knowledge of history
Historical monuments splayed in ALL cities with their own history and stories
Havelis with squatters living in them
Villages.
Being Bilingual since birth, sometimes even knowing three languages before you enter primary school.
Your mother sitting you down, oiling your hair on Saturdays and braiding it for you
Your mother's gold bangles, which she got from her mother and will eventually be yours.
Mehndi. Weddings and Festivals which leave but intricate Mehndi designs that linger on women's hands for a while. Or your mother putting Mehndi in her hair because fuck chemical colors.
Haldi. Haldi is everything.
Your family cures and recipes.
KADAAS. Bitter Kaadas with herbs and spices that your maa, amma/daadi or nani forces you to drink because they're good for your health
Chai is the first thing in the morning. Or the last one at night. The calm that washes over you when you're in the midst of a late night study session as you make yourself a cup of chai in the middle of the night. Quietly, because everyone else is asleep.
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