Missing Note poem by Mukul Dahal


I hardly remember any moment with my papa

because he left the world when I

saw the fifth spring.

I have a hazy memory of my grandpa

because he departed

when the seventh spring

unfolded itself in front of me.

His crooked legs and bent body

breeze in my memory

but I crave for his voice.

His words echoing a depth of dreamy age

never reached me.

I wish my memory could go further

back in time

and dig out the treasure

of my papa’s love for me

and grandpa’s gifts of jokes

and tales.

All I do is I wish.

My grandmother

from my mother’s side

lived long.

She bathed me

in the pool of her affection.

Her words were tender

and voice sweet as honey.

They have clung to my heart.

Although she left us three years back

she did leave her trace behind.

Time separated me from

my papa and grandpa.

Grandma filled the emptiness

of my heart with her long life.

She lost her teeth,

her memory,

returned to a child’s waywardness.

Threw tantrums at times.

Yet, the innocence

played in her voice

my memory cups

and sips in isolation.

The criminal tradition in the hill

married her off when

she was child.

Unaware of love

and unaware of marriage

she was left afloat

on the waters of married life.

A widow life long,

kept weeding

her grandchildren’s lives.

Saw us flowering.

Saw us putting on wings.

Saw us flying off,

in search of an unknown

destination.

Smiled with us.

Wept for us.

I do not believe

we cremated her.

The architecture of

her physique

was set ablaze.

Her voice transformed into

smoke and went up

in the air to vanish.

I crave for

the poetry of her warm

words.

I crave for the world

with her.

I try hard to hear

her words

coming from that distant

time and reaching us

afresh.

Coming from that distant

age and unfolding

all weird tales of her time

to us.

Unveiling the magic

in them.

I try hard.

Out from the

the speed,

the race,

the bustle,

whenever I touch the

petals of my private moment,

I reflect on the missing note.

I melt and cry for her.

copyright Mukul Dahal, 2006

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