I see her every morning
across her white breakfast table
Rushing through with her warm green tea
In one fierce gulp of ecstasy,
and along with the last dry crumb
Of the burnt- up toast
In a hasty crush
As if , this was just another meal
Which needed to be done with
Along hectic life’s perpetual timeline.
I see her then settle her sari thin
In a neat fall of flowing grace
As if, every precious little fold,
holds together many long secrets
wrapped around
In one invincible shield
around her dignity and charm,
and leaving behind nothing
apart from a few discarded safety pins
scattered useless in a disarray
upon the dressing table
across a few faded photographs
upon some jaded frames
each holding together perhaps
memories layered upon memories,
memorable,
upon the distant dusty land…
I see her then rush by her black sedan
Snug in the back seat of comfort
Face downwards by her window secure
Happily nursing
all her pending tasks at hand

I see the warm content around her sparkling eyes
I feel the bubbling energy in her infinite zeal
I touch the spritely soul within her pristine being

While the bright glorious sun
shines merrily upon her frail outline,
and
the whole wide world seems to be in a twirl
and
Everything around her seems so very complete….

I finally raise my broken hand
( after she is long gone )
in a slow motion
as if to wave daily,
Just another goodbye