Long Distance
He speaks in soft, remembered tones,
From London flats with aching bones.
An Eelam Tamil, far from home,
Yet never truly all alone.
Love is away from him,
But believes his love will get rid of his dim.
Across the world, where gum trees sway,
She wakes in Shepparton each day.
A Malaysian Tamil, steady, bright,
Chasing dawns in southern light.
Different times, separated love,
Their love is spirited by the man above.
They found each other, line by line,
Through late-night chats and calls past nine.
Two hearts that beat in sync despite
The stretch of sky, the loss of sight.
Behind their screens, is a cry of infatuation,
The eyes meeting another is of temptation.
His voice arrives with morning mist,
She answers back like warmth long missed.
No hugs to hold, no hands to feel,
But every word is deep and real.
Taste of music differs and deviates,
But our love fascinates.
They talk of lands they’ve never shared
Of temple bells and truths declared.
Of curries cooked the same, apart,
Of missing touch but joining heart.
No jaws of a fox or a dingo rips us apart,
No weapon would pierce through her heart.
She tells him of the orchard breeze,
He speaks of Jaffna's wounded seas.
She dreams of flying into Heathrow,
He dreams of Shepparton’s mango.
The vows I take would not be broken,
She would not be disturbed while be spoken.
Sometimes the silence grows too loud,
When life gets fast, or thoughts too proud.
But still they stay because they know
True love is patient, even slow.
She is the solution to my obstacles,
She stumbling into my life, made it radical.
Each message sent, each “miss you” said,
Keeps distant doubts from growing dread.
They plant their hopes in future soil,
And wait, and trust, and gently toil.
Her beauty is like the goddess Parvati,
Her values come in esteem and dignity.
One day, when stars align just right,
He’ll step off flights into her light.
Or she will leave the orchard’s call
To find him waiting past it all.
She enters freely into my vision,
As she has a clear mission.
Until that time, they hold their space,
Across the seas, with quiet grace.
Two Tamils born to distant lands,
Still reaching out with open hands.
As I love her traditional Tamil attire,
Which made her my love of desire.
Copyright ©
Siddharth Satheesan
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