In Between

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This post’s late because all day yesterday

I travelled between my homeland and home -

curried cubed fish and three small golap jaam

were served for lunch in a neat airline tray;

though deboned fish isn’t the Bengali way

it was still festive, throwback to the drums

still being played at the marquees. I heard them

at 30,000 ft somewhere near Bombay.

All day yesterday I travelled between

being a mother and a daughter, a parent

to parents and child. On my in-flight screen

old Hindi films spooled out dramatic events,

a three-hour ten-minute stopover meant

thinking what 'mother' has now come to mean.