The Unfinished Capsicum

Maa ne kaha tha,
Shimla mirch ki sabzi nahi banate,
Bachpan mein
Bettiah mein
Shimla Mirch nahi milti thi,
Jab milti thi toh sabzi nahi banate.
Kam tha na.
Fridge mein Shimla Mirch rehene se
"Rich lagta hai."
Ghar mein aaoge toh,
Fridge mein shimla mirch katti hui milegi.
Puri shimla mirch aaj bhi nahi istemaal kar paati.
Rich lagta hai.
Marwar ki raeth mein,
(Oasis)

My language enters my mind in a flood
Alphabet soup
That drowns me out with possibility.
I have sat on the edge of the flood that is self-perpetuating.
Some say that a flood like that
is a lake
But I know the difference between a resource
And an inconvenience.
Ghar ki dalheez par khatam hota hai.

I walk home
having waded in the flood
having floated paper boats where wooden ones would break
Having seen/imagined the tadpoles
That swim past me and return, as I do,
Home.

I wipe my feet and dry my calves
And hear the sound of rain muffled by dryness
Roll down my jeans
And walk inside.

Maa kehti hai,
Tumhari poetry samajh nahi aati.
Kuch kehte ho,
usse sirf thora sa
hi samajh aata hai.

If you ever come home
You will always find
unfinished capsicum.