A YOUNG ADULT SEARCHES FOR HIS MOTHER


BY SIVAKAMI VELLIANGIRI - India


Not yet midnight. Express chugging passengers

to or away from homes; the train sleeps

underneath the blankets.


In her sleep, someone shakes my daughter’s feet;

bolt upright she sits – forming a right angle.

I yell, “I will hit you.”


A raincoat and a hood, midget beggar

comes to pinch our luggage,

while my daughter says, “put on the lights ma.”


I need to put on my glasses too. He is just a kid,

limbs exploding in different directions,

totally unbalanced.


The parents think it wise to snore it off.

I steer the child to the lower berth, dusting the rug,

cover him up to his chin.


I was at the Madhuram Narayanan Centre and Swabhiman

in the morning. I pat the frightened lad to sleep.

“Why did his family not tell us about this?”


The smell of an overdose of medicine comes across.

I pat his heaving body; he pushes me with such force

that I fall onto my berth.


The bones in his body are not dislocated, his family is.

3 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All