Sunday Poem By Jhilam Adhikary

Sunday Poem By Jhilam Adhikary

Why Did I Ever Accept My Dad’s Death?

With one more day gone Things become real a bit more Regret sings louder than before With every dream that follows Where things are fine And all of a sudden I face my dad and roar “YOU ARE DEAD!” And I wake up alone On his huge bed Now the grave of unread books Ignoring my mother, For I’m angry Trauma bonding with imaginary blood and guts, Hoping to be punished And without hunger Just in madness eating From my bag of hidden biscuits Chips in my almari, And my fridge full of curd and sweet jelly, I eat and I cry, before and after Until sometimes I get to hold the face and belly Of someone who cares And hug and cuddle and talk In the bright afternoon Pretending it’s midnight. How evil am I And what should I call myself? When I accept That I’m loving someone so much Just to escape And let myself be for the harder days coming Wishing that going forward At least this person will stay with me While I ruin my mad self mourning And at least some days I’ll get to kiss and hold hands. For even though its hard to admit Not missing my little dad sometimes, And not being in pain feels good… A very selfish feeling. But it’s the truth And I’m useless, Waiting for the rain to fall And the winds to blow Hoping my body would stop burning For the death of the world’s best man Isn’t enough to chill the world So the world continues to burn Like his body did When no soil of no land took in his coffin. Now that I’m alone And my mother is out working Every single action Other than studying Feels like a crime I’m committing And I should be beaten and bled to death. Thinking about it Makes me cry and eat again Like a paradox, a cycle. Denial was such a luxury, So why did I ever accept? And turned to my dad in my dreams Every night after his death, And very directly said, “But you are dead…. Do you know, you are dead?”