Hema Ravi |
by Hema Ravi
'Wish I had the trunk
to carry the valuables to the marriage-hall.'
Grandma's muttering
urged me to reminisce.
The iron trunks were part of the bride's trousseau;
the dazzling jewellery, silks
for the guests at the wedding
displayed with the other charming tableau.
Grandma's green trunk ever a mystery
enthralled me better than any story.
Prized! privileged! the box had its pride of place
and accompanied her during journeys.
Not once was I allowed to take a peek
Where the key was hidden no one knew,
and once when I tried to sneak,
into a rage the old lady flew.
With several misgivings, Grandma let her go!
the sleek, comfortable bags in tow
made her infrequent journeys comfortable,
the co-travellers no longer were hurt by the solid iron.
Mother was the happiest when the box left our home,
sold to the kabadiwallah for a song
unmindful of Grandma's wistful looks
one painfully pious Monday morning.
The trunk became part of our conversation
whenever there was an untoward incident,
such as the VIP suitcase at Mira's wedding
that went missing with cash and jewels.
Grandma's voice broke the reverie!
(kabadiwallah- scrap dealer)
Poet Brief Profile: Hema Ravi is a joint winner in the fixed form poetry contest conducted by Metverse Muse(2018). Her writings have appeared in several online and print anthologies, which include haiku, tanka, free verse and metrical verses. She is the author of Everyday English (grammar/conversational self-tutor for Indian students), co-author of Sing Along Indian Rhymes (Indian Rhymes in English - CD cum booklet) and Everyday Hindi (Conversational Hindi). Currently, she is a freelancer for IELTS and Communicative English.
Nostalgic. Loved it.
ReplyDeleteMy grandmother's - actually her father's is still with me.