Written By Highest Kite from the ‘Rebel’ collection
A month ago, my mother had a hernia repair surgery
The doctor said no to solid foods: no meats, no wheat,
nor chunks of fruit; not even porridge
…
My mouth is alive with sound
and flavour, crunching hard on street bhajias
To taste orange is joy
To roll my tongue and chew, joy
To swallow and have my fill, joy
To quench my ginger-salty-potato-dough induced thirst, joy
To watch her point to her four bandaged wounds, no joy
To listen to her reiterate the four week ordeal, no joy
To think we’ll soon lock horns over my own health, no joy
To take in the sun greedily, and breathe in greedily, joy
I do not know what to do with life
I have it though
I have it, and
it is mine