Dr Babitha Justin is a Lecturer in English, Department of English, Indian Institute of Space Science and Technology, Thiruvananthapuram. She is a prolific writer and her articles were published in Protocol, Spring and Fall.
25. Childhood Deaths
We smelt mating snakes in the bushes,
While carrying our Hearse
To the freshly dug grave
My brother had tears well
Hidden in his eyes.
Death came so silently
A butterfly in a matchbox
yellow wings
Polka dotted with death's imprints.
I felt the cold spell
Of its wings on my pinafore
In my first independent
Bus drive
I smelt the snakes
in the whiff of toddy
bloodshot eyes tearing
my chestless
childhood apart.
The feel of wet twists on my
Squirming thigh
The squirt of venom
That spread over me
Like chill
Like death
Tears gagged
my scream,
guilt stifled protests.
My childhood died
like butterflies
ephemeral joys
I knew I was gifted
For I could smell snake
And impending deaths….
26. Ruins and Ruminations
This winter sheen
insulated the chill
golden stalks
snapped to
splinters
with a bristling
dry crack
grass blades
crumbled
between fingers
in an impulse.
A sadistic one.
jasmine scent
was a memory
trickling down my veins.
An intoxicating one.
love was a feeling
lost in
rush of blood and lust.
A cynical one.
have I grown up
counting my
ruminations
lost in sensations?