by Anupama Krishnakumar
I can sense that he is watching me
intently with his large black eyes,
his guilt-laden gaze following me
wherever I go. He is there −
standing behind the door,
his little head peeping out,
his fingers curling around
the edge of the door.
He’s done something, I know.
And I know he wants to tell me
but doesn’t want to as well.
I know his mind, his dilemma
I know. I turn his way and lo,
his head quickly disappears
behind the big brown door.
It is time for me, to ease his guilt.
I call out his name, softly,
very softly, and he emerges
hesitantly from behind the
door. ‘Kanna,’ I say, ‘what is
it, tell me?’ Soothing words of
love is all that he needs.
With fresh tears glistening
like pearls in his eyes, he edges closer,
and opens his tiny little mouth. I see
that his sweet pink tongue is no longer pink.
And his milky white teeth no longer white.
I see his little secret. His little guilt.
The little guilt of my chocolate Krishna!
