Sunday Poem By Akashleena Majumdar

Sunday Poem By Akashleena Majumdar

Sunlight on My Skin

Sunlight reaches my room Breathless warm Through that wooden windows Crawling in my skin. I hate to break the romance With that man Who was in my bed; For whose unknown touches Made me his lover overnight. Sunshine warmed This side of my empty bed, I lay there maybe hours Cold, blank faced to the sour ceiling, As people on their deathbed. My plants bore flowers Beautiful and delicate as new borns On their mothers lap, Free and fragile. I often stumble upon nostalgic loops When I sat near the window And hear to morning ghazals, On my ten year old radio, Baba once gifted on my birthday. I would hear a soft voice, Of a man, maybe mid aged Whom I never met But eagerly waited for him Every morning. 90's bollywood in background Some old albums of Kishore Kumar, Savouring mangoes from backyard Or writing my hopeless romantic poems On some sweet summer afternoons. Maa would often sing in balcony And I smiled to her, While she oils my hair, Her laughter filling the vandah. The white noises of my celing fan Settled the reality, Sour walls and beautiful flowers Wounded skin and the oddly silent room. The sunlight has warmed the bed Like the summers of childhood Where I lay down with Maa, And her singing me lullabies. Maa, ghosts and demons are crawling In my room And you are not around.