I saw a house, with doors more than ajar, welcoming unknown guests,
Dried leaves make the verandah their bed, bed also for the pesky pests.
No namaste, no welcome songs,
Only an echoing laugh filled scream,
No tea had boiled,
No food had cooked,
No water had steamed.
No one puts letters in the letterboxes,
With the address of this house,
Maybe its existence was caged as though a lab mouse.
Children of the home
With bags,
On board,
To overseas,
Never to return,
Ridding their parents, their gods,
Like a disease.
A kitchen with an unlit clay oven,
Unbaked oven, unable to bake,
Burning with screams,
True tears extinguish
Smiles fake.
The true-false screams,
Inviting the white weakener,
The termites,
Upside down hills,
Positive on the floor,
Everywhere in my sight.
A bicycle bell
*Tring-Tring*
A postman,
A letter he threw,
'Ma-Pa, my wife and your grandkids want to meet you'
Thank you for sending the letter so fast,
Most worthy son,
I'll repost it to their graves.
~Ajay
April 2017
