Poetry: Snigdha Agrawal

Snigdha Agrawal

‘ME TOO’ (Prose Poetry)

A month to go before they turned six, tailor Akash was called home to take measurements, for new dresses.  For the twins’ birthday.

Measuring tape around his neck, he arrived with samples of fabric.  Silk, cotton, khadi, small square bits, stuck in a red cloth-bound book, to pick.  Both girls wanted the one with pink floral prints. Full-bloomed roses, buds sheathed in green, much like the one Alice in Wonderland had worn to the tea party.

Mother looked indulgently at them, and nodded approval, though way out of budget.  She then browsed through the pages of the design book, forward and backward, till she found what she wanted. 

Gathered at the waist, short puff sleeves, collared neck, with matching green piping on the edges. "This is just perfect", she pointed at the page, with satisfaction.

Akash with a flourish pulled out the pencil stuck behind his right ear, and opened his notebook, to take measurements.  Length, waist, chest, arms,

shoulders, neck, one by one the measuring tape touched all body parts.  Mother kept a watchful eye, as he went about his business. 

"Madam can I have a glass of water" he apologetically asked.  "Sure", she replied and left for a while, returning with a plate of "doodh pedas"[1] to wash down with the glass of chilled water, placed on a tray.  In her absence, the girls felt awkward.  Their innocent minds couldn't figure out why his fingers were lingering where they were not supposed to, for so…so long.  It felt wrong. They were too scared to share the incident with Mom.

Six decades later, the 'seniors' ruminated over the incident and realize they too were victims of abuse.  The "Me too" movement had blown over them, scattered in the winds, unshared!  Leaving behind scabs encrusted.

[1] doodh pedas - Indian sweet made with milk.

***

OWNER'S PRIDE / NEIGHBOUR'S ENVY (Prose Poetry)

Was once a contiguous unit. Wrapped in bolts of the same fabric. Then they arrived on the prosperous shores and with their divisive policies, started cutting, carving, and bruising the country. Making the whole into cut pieces, as hawkers sell on busy streets. Milking resources, robbing, looting.  And before departing, scissored the yarn, to stitch a new east. On the left, cut off a portion, to upholster the west.

embroidered with suspicion

stitched with great skill

into the entire fabric

'Forget me knots'

symbolizing remembrance

that continue to itch

blistering, festering,

bellicosity simmering.

***

CONSCIENCE KEEPER (Prose Poetry)

She looked into the mirror. Noticed black spots. For one who prided herself on possessing an unblemished complexion, this came as a rude shock.  What had gone wrong?  Since no one had commented otherwise, she was convinced the mirror was lying.  Looked into another mirror, seeking self-validation. Black spots stubbornly showed up, much to her consternation.    

Angered asked the mirror 'Hey…what's up? We have been friends right from the start. Remember our pact never to lie to each other, through fair and foul weather.

Mirror responded... “the back spots you see are sins that show up, every time

you stray from the right path. A reflection of your soul corrupt.  Go mend your ways.  Then see the results”.

Presto!  All changed when she corrected her course, overcoming the havoc mid-life crisis had caused. Forthwith taking a vow never would be persuaded to lead a life of ‘wrongs’.

down the line as she aged,

her reflection

unblemished remained

gracefully aged;

Mirror conscience keeper

Her true friend.

Bio: Snigdha Agrawal (nee Banerjee) is Bengali born, raised and educated in a cosmopolitan environment, with exposure to the Eastern and Western cultures, imbibing the best of both worlds.  With more than two decades of working in the corporate sector, her outlook on life is balanced, as reflected in her writings. A versatile writer, she writes all genres of poetry, prose, short stories, travelogues, and hotel/restaurant reviews.  A septuagenarian, her passion for writing and travelling continues unabated.  Her learning graph grows and adapts to the contemporary.

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Setu, June 2024