A Troubling Memory

by Bhanusree S. Kumar


When the kettle whistled,
my mother jolted from her reverie
and hushed the flame
with a swift, anxious sweep.
In the living room,
guests awaited the festival's remnants—
sweetmeats arranged with precision
on ornate silverware.
Her hands, unsteady from neuropathy,
balanced a tray of katlis,
while daintily adjusting the shawl
that concealed the bruise on her neck
from the previous night’s scuffle.
But when the cloth slipped
and bared the wound,
the crowd took to pretence
and indulged her husband in
a discourse on highway traffic
as if violence were banality.
When the house quietened,
I rushed to bed,
hoping sleep would alchemize
the grim tableau
into art with gravitas.
When the world dissolved,
my lookalike appeared
with a red balloon,
only for a buffeting wind
to snatch it away
from her tender grip.


* * * * *

Bhanusree S. Kumar is a writer from Kerala, India. Her poems have appeared in The Gorko Gazette, Topical Poetry, Lakeview International Journal of Literature and Arts, The New Indian Express, Lions’ Voice and Heart-Bytes. Besides writing, she enjoys listening to classical music and dabbling in watercolour painting.