The Perfect Tea

Hands chained to the vows

She ignored that thin gray strand falling on those tired eyes;

Earth is unable to adjust unlike her

Revealed its pain.

The light only caused more strain,

But the (good) ol’ man thanks, Lord-

he can solve the puzzle now.

The odor coming from his own inception,

Though irritates him somehow

“How do you cleanse it?

Busy, eh? Be here with tea now!”

How strange;

the genuine puzzle is his sense.

Tea with cardamom and clove is what his sense needs

Be careful, milk shouldn’t burst.

That hair strand still

her nine-month struggle unable to express its whims;

thus exhaustion began to settle.

Did you know,

puzzles are exhausting too?

The sun was overboard now.

Droplets all over her face

became denser than her Saree.

The pitch became higher

“You son of a bitch!”

Milk erupted

Droplets fell

Tears were up to the brink,

waiting for a command.

Maybe the light wasn’t the enemy,

Rigorous as many appear

but a subtle reminder-

the chains may not be real?

She picked her blood, cleansed it

Pulled that troublesome strand (finally)

and milk was on the stove again

The tea with cardamom and clove was ready.

Turning the fan towards herself,

she sipped the cup of tea-

and she drowned

-Bristi Choudhury

6 BSc PCM