Friday, 14 March 2008

dried piece of toast---Writers Island



hunger nudged me out of my trance;

gnawing to my bones.
cutting a piece of week-old loaf, I chewed it dry-
my saliva making a pulp of it,
swallowing was hard,
but my belly needed sustenance;
only that had the power to hold me together.

no more memories tonight, please
spare me that ordeal-
what I had lost in spontaneity
had to be made up with prudent living.
chaos was not to be seen-
I had taken care of that.
needing something hot for my chilled soul,

I prepared cinnamon tea precisely measuring out
two teaspoonful sugar along with cream.
carrying both the cups in a tray
I placed it on the sidetable in our bedroom.
pulling at her knitted quilt,
shaking her shoulder gently
I softly called out her name.

truth hit me like a spring,
I howled loud in the dead of night-
looking with blurred eyes,
as if almost spellbound
my finger-prints on her neck,
marked so well into her skin-
deeply embedded in my heart.


26 comments:

  1. I howled with you in grief for your loss.

    Rose

    xo

    ReplyDelete
  2. rose, let us howl together. Why do it alone?

    :D

    ReplyDelete
  3. ummm. why are your fingerprints on her neck? did you...?

    ReplyDelete
  4. Wonderful Gautami....This is so beautifully written; so visual. I felt like I could smell the tea...I am right there with you.

    Thanks for coming by to visit. It is always good to see you...!

    ReplyDelete
  5. gautami,
    I was spellbound and shocked in the end by your creative spirit.
    Now, tell me more about this cinnamon tea.
    rel

    ReplyDelete
  6. "
    what I had lost in spontaneity
    had to be made up with prudent living."

    lovely words gautami

    ReplyDelete
  7. Terrific piece. Those last few lines are pretty creepy!

    ReplyDelete
  8. Entertaining and chilling at the same time!
    Nice one.
    :D

    ReplyDelete
  9. i am with richard in wondering why your fingerprints were on her neck... did you strangle her?????

    ReplyDelete
  10. Gautami,

    It is an unexpected ending, I was caught surprised but that's how fiction writing should work: to take us to the roads unfamiliar and leave us thinking, and asking and wanting. In the end, it is the readers who would draw the conclusion to the unfinished picture in the story sketched by the writer's words.

    I wish you well.

    ~ Jeques

    ReplyDelete
  11. Oh, wow! This one leads me right down the garden path and ends up at the...oh, wow!

    ReplyDelete
  12. Hey Gautami. Per your comment on my blog:

    "Your photo would fit in, If I do write it down. If you give me permission, I would like to use it with my verse. I would give you credits. That goes without saying."

    With pleasure. I'm honored, and look forward to see what you come up with. Thank you so much!

    ReplyDelete
  13. Hi Gautami

    what a 'gripping ' poem !! :) Certainly left its mark on me ! Loved the little twist in the tail/tale .

    Thanks for your visit to read my "Spellbound"
    I do agree that as a teacher you would probably have to wade thru' a lot of badly spelled presentations !

    ReplyDelete
  14. oh my! sounds intriguing! Will you write more?

    ReplyDelete
  15. Very chilling. What a devastating loss.

    ReplyDelete
  16. Little bit of a dark side there, yikes! :) Nice job.

    ReplyDelete
  17. "gripping" poem that "left its mark"...indeed. Spooky.

    ReplyDelete
  18. this was very good...one of your best. that ending surely surprised us all!

    ReplyDelete
  19. There must have been a tremendous amount of pain leading up to that moment...

    Excellent writing Gautami.

    ReplyDelete
  20. "...needing someone hot for my chilled soul..." That line stayed with me.

    Nicely done!

    ReplyDelete
  21. This was fantastic. I really enjoyed the juxtaposition of the mundane, everday act of making tea and toast with what had happened in the bedroom. The marks on the neck - a chilling, effective touch.

    ReplyDelete