Halkyon

By Neesha Rumi

I remember that afternoon

In your arms

The monsoon curtained

Us from the world

And we dazzled all smiling

While a guitar wept

With the rain

You asked me if I

Love you

And I said I did

I've never seen you happier

(The neighbour's family

Has Covid19

Their dog has been

Howling

For their lost father)

Do you remember how Calcutta

Looked in winter

As we held hands

On the busy streets

Unperturbed by

Spit and smoke and curb-side

Shit

Do you remember when you

First told me how much

You needed me

To keep you sane

Do you remember how

You never saw me happier

(My phone rang yesterday

My father called

He said he was tired

And frightened

And grief had ripped

His heart into shreds

He wanted to know

How much longer)

I dreamt I was back in

That room of yours

Old Calcutta architecture

The cobwebbed fan

On the high ceiling

The window grills

In the shape of women

And their exposed nipples

The floor would be freshly wiped

And I would feel it under

My feet cool and smooth

And I would pad up to the bed

On the floor towards our daily

Crossword puzzle

There was a great pair of speakers

In your house

The music would resonate

With my heart

And I'd listen to the sound

Of your heart

And feel the feeling

Of mine

Sync with the bass notes

Of your blues

(My friend's mother

Had cancer

If the virus hadn't touched us

She might have lived

Her youngest will never be

The same says my friend

I wondered if I would be the same

What does it even mean

To lose everything)

I remember the wet Calcutta streets

Reflecting the yellow street

Lamps under your feet

Leaves dripping glossy water

Fresh from a cloudburst bath

Remember how you lay down

On that street crossing

And asked me to join you

And take in that perspective

I refused but I wish

I hadn't

I wish I had seen the city

Through your eyes

There were hidden beauties

That you knew so well

I refused because of my white dress

That I knew you liked

You know how white is so

Hard to maintain

In Calcutta

(How much longer

Can we stand still

Maybe we should just lie down

And try to see it through

Your eyes like I

Should have done

That night on the empty

Street crossing washed

With rain and lamplight)

Do you remember the love

That was there

Do you have that now

By Neesha Rumi