(New Years Eve)
After the 1977 Anti Tamil Violence, my friend's house burned and she moved in with us. Paralysed, grandmother carried by another friend who
was visiting. First 1958 and now 1977.
For them...
Tomorrow
To please my mother
Looking in the right direction
At the auspicious time
I will bite
Into that rectangle
Of compressed rice
I have nothing against our customs
Only nothing
To celebrate
No eager looking forward
To what is left
Of the year
The sound of crackers
Drives
Our otherwise bold
Vagabond of a dog
To me
To press his head urgently
Against my knee
Till I smooth away
His seemingly ridiculous
Fears
But I too wish
Though not in fear
That they would
Stop
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