Father, I am Confessing

By Samyukta Raghavan

Silver statue don’t rust on my right shoulder

I am confessing, Father, please listen.

The sun is behind us and you look like me

When I am trying to convince some God

I can't name, that I am so sorry.

I can pour the lamp oil but I won’t light the match.

Thatha stands behind me, tells me I am holding

It all wrong, I am a child I want to do it on my own

I scream back at him till he dies in his sleep.

I don’t go to the funeral, I can’t watch him burn.

I am a child, I make pretend that he is upset and on his own.

I talk to him in my dreams, he responds when he feels like company

Now celebration is just celebration for the sake of doing it,

We barely participate, we don’t have fun,

Not when there’s a sad old man, so sad and alone in his room.

We let him be.

How do I tell you, Mother; you don't want to smell my breath.

I have taken all the auto rides, ripe at midnight,

and I have taken them where you told me I shouldn’t.

I went, and I didn’t feel so bad.

All my blood is yours, just backwards.

I am doing fine till you tell me you aren’t.

We eat lunch in silence,

I am the first to get up and cause this distance

My stomach is full, I have shared all my secrets.

Please love me still.

By Samyukta Raghavan