Leaving Home
The windows churn the sunlight They provide only bleakness Every filtered thing is poisoned Every made thing is cursed
Here are the truths I state as verses Do they spark bewilderment?
The boxes were full of her clothes, They ate the jewelry that my mother never wore, They kept the torn sarees warm, But I didn't take them with me.
Without a body, leaving a space sounds unholy Without a body, possessions aren't possessions Anymore.
I left the boxes They are in the hall room On the piece of the floor where my mother was to turn into ash
How can I take the belongings away from a place That has carried her air?>
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Tiyasha Chaudhury
Tiyasha Chaudhury is a listed reviewer of major Global Publishing houses. An ardent reader of poetry; exploring Russian and German literature with peak interest. Two of her extended reviews have been published in the October Issue and March Issue of Kloud Nine Magazine whose chief editor is Ruskin Bond. She can be reached at @tiyashachaudhuryreads on Instagram.