It got stuck, wedged with a box or a book
Or may be a photo frame perhaps,
I’m usually a good stacker,
Albeit it’s been a while that I visited this drawer
For a ‘make-over’.
I put my hand in from the little crevice
Pushing away the obstacle,
My heart skipped,
Vaulted over a few beats,
Saliva clogging my throat,
When out comes the glittery case,
Resting heavily on my fingers.
The ugly piece with its hideous mirror work,
Ominous, daring me to open it,
Flashing at my viscid grief,
To undo my crusty nerves. I know ‘the thing’ in it
Is going to cause me a noxious havoc
Baring the mummified feelings within.
The thin chain, made of sterling silver
With a coin shaped pendant dangling,
Engraved with our initials and a prised quote,
Opening it will actuate the long dried stream
Of tears to return, salting my cheeks.
No, not today! I boded.
So I buried it, at the most bottom
Under all other decrepit things that didn’t make sense
in the drawer (except this fatuous thing),
Just like the numb yet unbridled memories
I’ve stashed inside my guts, cinched by veins.
I predict the drawer will be left flouted
Untended, just like other times in the past.
The drawer. A sepulchre for the dead.
Rakshita B Tikoo is an Indian – Australian writer and poet. Writing was her hobby in high-school/college which took a back seat when she started her IT career. After spending many years in high-flying corporate roles and raising two beautiful kids, her hobby came out of its hiding about a year ago. She writes short stories and poems in both Hindi and English language. Two of her Children’s poems have been published in a Children’s newsletter “Kaleidoscope”. Her fiction work “Letter to Dee” is part of an anthology “Voyage of Emotions”. Her Hindi short story “Scooter” is available on Amazon. She currently lives in India with her family.
