Smritii Lavte
A sign of my silenced oppression
Chimes in like a raging alarm,
Like waking a sleepy head on a warm morning,
I become an arbitrator
Stopping this harmful war of words
Between a man and his kin,
With hopes of being heard
When they both also dream of the same thing,
A routinely non rehearsed drama
One cannot expect it to just add onto your own trauma,
A sigh of relief
For my insensitivity and maturity I believe,
Grew up in multiple homes
Keenly observing the cursing , the actions
they perform,
The war ceases for a bit
A calmness ensues as I sit,
Comprehending this shockwave
A habitual ritual to be singled out as brave,
The kin’s sibling gossiping with their mum
How their lives would be different
If they got rid of their existential problems,
Reminds me of my childhood
Like happy memories framed in photo albums,
Normal was the situation
But suddenly the man arrives again
A sense of tension builds up, oh the pain !
A turquoise plate filled with red roses And chrysanthemums,
Thrown harshly on the floor
The man ruins them
Carelessly stomping on them
Mum watches
That evening mesmerised by its beauty,
She buys the flowers
Not so expensive,
But you see
True beauty can never be priced
The same feeling cannot again be derived…
Coming back to reality
The man blames the God
What a crisis of faith !
Never trust the words of someone
Who chooses alcoholism over sobriety,
But is it really a fair judgement ?
The man creates a scene and leaves,
Just like a child throwing a tantrum
Seeking for attention,
But what was the point of all this chaos ?
A night as calm as an ocean
Interrupted by a tsunami,
Mum and her kid sweep
heartbreaking as it may seem,
Throwing away all the wilted petals
A lost opportunity for a good family time,
Going back to bed
Thinking when will this all end ?
Now everyone dozing off
Wondering what was the point of it all !