Under the Mango Tree

Squinted eyes, Squinted hard at the hill top, Far, far, up on the hill top A tiny shadow Couldn’t wait Wanted to jump and run but Slowly stepped down Stepped down the bus Squinted at the shadow A faint figure, A figure of a massive tree My tree, our tree, our mango tree Standing high and massive, like a giant Fifty five years… Fifty five years inside a dark cell, Dark cell unknown to what I did, Fifty five years ago, riots. Riots against my own people Only eighteen then. Not anyone’s blood my own blood on my body, Neighbors blood in my soul. Behind bars for fifty five year This morning I was shoved out. Shoved out, to the unknown world Wanted to see her, wanted to see her badly How many dreams I had Dreams of our childhood, she was fifteen then Dreams of how I played with her She and I, dig a hole on the hill top. Dig a hole to plant a seed. A mango seed Up on the hill Her compound and my compound separated with logs We held our tiny heads under the tiny stream coming from top Caught fish Colorful fish, tiny ones Could race to the top in ten minutes then But today nearly one hour gone, Impatient, impatient to see her laughing eyes Heart pounding hard, aching heart I know she is waiting, She would wait for me, for fifty five years, I cannot believe I am really here Under the massive tree, Our tree, our mango tree I squint my eyes passing the mango tree Her house, my house ? Empty land Under the tree, a tiny slate, “ Rani singhe born 1950 April 02nd , Died at the age of fifty, May she rest in peace” . Blink my eyes no tears mouth dry Heart aches, heart yells ran down fast, as fast as I could, down … down…. Down