Waiting In Vain

It’s a voluntary widowhood.
Whipped by Neeli’s tongue,
he’s gone to harvest Dirhams*
in Dubai desert – lest the embryo
of their new home won’t grow up.   
She’s alone in a temporary shed
behind the basement on the bank. 

Indian Postman passes by like her 
days flashing ‘No’ with his fingers. 
She looks into the distant desert
through the window of nostalgia. 
Fear creeps on the walls of her
heart at night - even a Norway rat
becomes a ghost rattling in kitchen.

Years slip into the chasm of past
leaving behind the doldrums on her
countenance. Time partitions her 
basement – mongooses, bandicoots
and rats get their shares – holes and 
chinks. Now her dreams with streaks
of love have shrunk like her womb.





*Dirham – currency of the United Arab Emirates

[First published by Encircle Publications, US]
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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Capitano Avatar
May 28, 2017 at 4:51 AM
Great story of time and lost dreams; nostalgia can be addicting.
M V Avatar
May 28, 2017 at 5:15 AM
Thank you, Phil, for your nice words. Regards,
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