An X'mas Memory


Heads heavy
with dreams that chime,
the fake snow wobbling
under the fan on the christmas tree,
noses filled with wafts
of cloves and pineapple jam,
pastries and curries
draught down
the kitchen corridor:

and I can hear my voice
laughing with Rani’s
as we decorate
the chicken pies
with the doughy words
Bong Natal, Bong Anu Nobu,
as mother hurries
to wash them over
with beaten egg.

Neither the dreams,
nor the odours, nor the voices,
nor the glaze can mask
the merriment of another
wondrous season; but they linger
just long enough in the warm
corners of memory
to remind me about how
happy I once was.


_________________________
Merry Christmas everyone! May grace and peace be with you and all
your loved ones throughout this season.

Haiku


Love’s many changing shapes:
a pair of skittish doves in the cempaka.

A handsome smile of an Indian guy;
loose-wristed, talking with his hands.