by Indu Parvathi
Indu Parvathi’s poem speaks about the tumbling ocean that surrounds her – an ocean of things that she has shopped for and collected over years.
I am not a minimalist −
around me, a tumbling ocean
a rumbling melee, a maelstrom.
In its crinkly folds churns my world
of all things that claim my time, a life
like my tattered notepad, half a woman
half a rose on its yellowing cover,
the beige bag an evening companion
ready with change for milk or fruit,
the tiny pink dog guardian of my bookshelf −
so many more like these
alive in their life with me.
They go missing, get found,
pile into trunks, travel in trucks,
get dazed, act like dead
till they get their new places, new roles.
More get bought, never go away
become part of an arrangement
static and fluid at the same time
I age, they age
to crumble into memory dust.
Indu Parvathi is a writer from Bangalore. Her stories and poetry have been published in various literary magazines (both print and electronic media). Her narratives and poems capture resonances from her immediate environment.
