Sunday, 20 January 2019

Empty Waters




The airport is already swankier. Clicketty-click polished granite floors where the carpeting does not deaden footsteps, the concourse wider, an enlarged duty-free, shops glittering with souvenirs – costume jewellery, camels, miniature coffee pots. Sleek kiosks of global brands. Rows of backlit signages, lights reflected off all surfaces like some kind of weird visual echo chamber.

Sunday, 13 January 2019

Shaken, not stirred





Over familiar, she leans close, and whispers
as the steam rises from my cup,
‘You babble a lot about death and winters
but sometimes you’re forced to shut up.’

Early morning in the park the crowd is thin
just she and I at my old bench,
the clank of garbage vats, the year’s beginning
with the same noise and urban stench.

‘You can write it lofty when it is just you,’
she smirks, though her lips remain grim,
‘all immortal bravado- what will you do
when it’s not you but it is him?’

The coffee goes cold, and the day, between us.
Overhead a birdsong shrills, a branch shivers.





A rocky start to my 2019 - first a medical emergency in India with my mum on Christmas Day for which I had to travel back, then upon return, another visit to the ER here in Bahrain on account of my husband- scared totally witless! 

Both parties out of hospitals now and recovering at home. Truly grateful for the outcomes and the timely interventions, prayers and support from friends and wider family. 

Hope to be a little more regular with blogging and online life once the offline one teeters back to (the new) normal.  The cup may have gone cold for the moment, but thankfully, I'm being allowed the option of reheating. Staying positive and writing it as it comes, when I can.