Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Letter to Sherpa


No, I haven't moved on or found my treasure. Yes, I wear black glasses now and have longer hair. But tell me what has changed? Colin still wants to pee when I talk to you, and Sats Suns are still forbidden. I still cry in front of you, and you from a telephone line far away, pat me unconsciously, saying, 'Bachchu, it'll be okay." I guess I always will be chotti to you, like the daughter you never had. Yes, I pretended this time I had changed. You couldn't touch me now. Noone can. Somewhere, I turn them all way. That's how the last 12 months have been. It's not your hands I need, or P.M's or R's. These days, I look at my own and love them and they bring me all the comfort I need. Yes, we're all animals. So am I. But I'm hibernating, you know how long motu. I refuse to break this monotony, I want to test myself. You're the one who told me, "Resist and see the thrill." I used your lesson against you. Was I selfish to do that? Like the gorilla who licked his wounds, I can only get stronger now...
How can you say I don't need you? Remember, we have to grow old. I have to show Colin the sea when he's 16. And everytime, my tired clock stops, the mosquitoes in my house breed, when rainy days trouble your city and mine, when you psychoanalyze me and say I'm just a sphinx, my wisdom grows... I can't follow your advice though, I can't keep up the mystery. If that's what they want, they can go to a musuem. I'm real, and messy like mulberry jam. They have to understand that all natural things are sweet and sticky...
Yes I know I remind you of Joan Baez, but like the poem I sent you, broken birds fly only when healed. I need you least till I find my home, and my children scream for chocolate milkshake...You see the homemaker in me. Someone else will too...Keep wearing the jacket...It might not keep you very warm, but it'll always remind you of a cold bike ride towards tomorrow..


No comments: