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Nothing is impossible

by Bhavya
(Kochi,Kerala,India)

The scream was loud,

And the surrounding was like cloud.
I stretched my arms and wailed
To stop the rituals for unknown.

Besides sat, a dried-raisin-like figure,
Figure of a woman with a pot of tears,
Dripping rhythmically.
I called out…but ended up speechlessly,
I asked… why this sacrifice for,
And thought the reply will be darkness and silence.
Instead I found her straining,
Straining to speak? Yes, it is.
She needs to convey,
But her disability was holding her tight.
“Tell me, O monsignor, why this all for?”
I repeated with a mixture of anxiousness
I repeated for sake of help,
But ended up in a feel of helplessness.

November winter struck me continuously,
Making me chilled like a freeze meat.
I wished a nighthawk may wrap me with motherly-warmth
Then I turned to leave her a good bye…
“Wait”
I heard the strain voice pass my ears,
Tickling me with fears,
I felt my toes are under the grip of the earth.
I struggled hard, then surrendered,
I turned, for a surprise to welcome
She told everything…
Everything like a flowing river.
Those rituals were for her daughter…
Daughter who is dead…
Unfortunately this question rose
-why?
She spoke with a breaking throat,
As if she drank a bottle of mead
“I need her back”
An explanation to a disable,
Will be as tough as leather to tear.
I stood staring at the beam of fire
As if the fire was on my body

“How”
That was the word came out
She turned her face swiftly,
Like a jet of wind, passing through windmill,
“Exchanging my soul for her”
I turned away guiltily,
Guiltiness of nowhere in the world.
And walked miles and miles away from her.
I turned for a last sigh
But there was a surprise waiting for me,
I couldn’t shut my eyes,
I thought I was in a dream,
I saw the dust and smoke above the fire,
Mingled together,
To form a skeleton-structure altogether.
Which stepped out in protest
There stood the girl…
Besides her lies a body,
Sorrowful body of the woman…
Motionless…

Thank you.