Until Then

By Shelly Debbarma

i realise fully now that we left you behind a long time ago.

at times, the day feels like a dream.

were the previous years' trysts with the black dog a preparation

in anticipation of the present arc?

i said good bye to you

i promised to buy you two things someday

with the money i save.

why is it that i never shared a book with you?

tinkle reminds me.

you know, i remembered: the last time we met

with our youngest cousins and the words

exchanged before, that day.

an indirect remembrance.

is it the existential mind

or the rational mind

that does not seek connections of that remembrance

and the day that is left us in your wake?

a slight tingling tooth- the night before

and the day following the night-

i dismiss now.

then, dentist's thoughts?

i asked once:

'kulu nwng tangwi ano bye hwnlangliya sa?' *

i was later told you did not want me to be called

because of my sickly constitution.

the cycle of life has stopped,

never to start again in these tracks you trod.

you have gone back to the earth now.

what animated your facade-

i do not know where you have gone.

some say heaven, some conjure stars.

i believe in reincarnation-

what constituted you is a part of the natural world now.

as the cycle of life is all about.

i await the day you will grace this earth again.

but forgive your sister for her absent-mindedness.

when you come, say 'hello' in your usual way.

i will wait.

we all wait.

until then.

*’kid, why didn’t you say goodbye?’

By Shelly Debbarma