Not a usual morning.
“Is Sridevi dead?”
Read one of my WhatsApp messages.
Dismissively—rubbing my eyes,
All I could manage was, “No.”
In that span,
Of switching from one app to another,
There were flashbacks.
Of her dancing,
Moving her big beautiful eyes.
Wearing silk,
Slender arms and a heart melting voice.
I logged into Twitter,
The headline read,
“Actor Sridevi dies…”
And,
And,
Halfway through the headline,
I lost half of my childhood.
This made me cry. I think most of what affects me is the way the media has handled the situation. It is beyond disgusting. A complete disregard for human lives - alive and lost.
ReplyDeleteI love that you are drawing from contemporary experiences, from the things that are happening in the here and now. I really appreciate that. That is very promising.
ReplyDeleteI think selection will make this poem stronger. Edit it brutally. See what lines should go where. Let only the punch, the 'saar' of the poem remain. Let the other bits go. For instance, try:
Sridevi
“Is Sridevi dead?”
read one of my WhatsApp messages.
Not a usual morning.
I dismissed it with a 'no'
still rubbing my eyes.
The morning jumped
from app to app
and into flashbacks:
her dancing
her big, beautiful eyes
her silk,
her slender arms
and a heart-breaking
impossible voice.
I reached Twitter.
Halfway through the headline,
half my childhood was lost.