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
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?”

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