…….Snehashis Parashar……
To,
The February wind that carried away my first self-made kite
I’m personifying you because in reality
it’s you who personifies me.
Two days after my tenth birthday when you stole
the kite that I made out of the yellow, worn-out pages
of Wisdom magazines from the ’80s,
I felt an urge to wear your mark on my skin like a branding,
like a final shade of a color, the shade of surrender.
I couldn’t write poetry then,
but I wanted you to be the metaphor for me,
I wish I had let my curls grow out back then,
not being afraid of my mother’s playful emotional blackmail,
because now when I run my hand
through the mess of curls that resides atop my head
I can feel you tangibly like I’m holding your hand,
and chasing the yellow kite’s fancy tails.
I’ve been writing for the past 4 years now
and I still haven’t figured out how I can
arrange my words like the string of that kite
because I so desperately want you to find a home
in the lines of my poems
because you, only you can breathe life into my poems
and in turn, personify this glitch that I have become.
Yours,
Snehashis.