Long months of summer
And sitting idle and tied
No hope for movement
Ennui at my bedside.
Paralyzed limbs, yes
But not paralyzed thought
Some freedom of observation
This immobility has begot.
My son- he watches over the bills
Like a hawk eyeing its prey
Hoping I’d die soon
He goes to the temple to pray.
He has no time for his wife
Nor for the kid does he care
Money is all is on his mind
Everything else- obscured by its glare!
She whispers into the phone
And flirts and smiles away
Thinking I can’t see, nor hear
What she does all day!
Now, the dear lady
Does no more like her man
She plans to run away from home
As speedily as she can!
The kid comes to my bedside
And strokes my hand all day
And smiles at me a toothless smile
Knowing not what’s stored in his way.
Innocent eyes move me –
To want to hold the child tight
To give him strength and love-
To set all the things right.
The maid, she steals the money
My son leaves at the table.
And she takes off the milk
For her kid in the cradle.
If I stay lucky
Then my tongue will stay tied
And I won’t betray
The things that I hide.
Sandhya Ramachandran
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