Bedridden in the hospital
And you can't stand his
Suffering.
Sitting in the hallway
Listening to the
Heart monitor beep-
Every once in a while,
Scared to a jump,
Thinking,
It has stopped.
Do we have a word for
That feeling?
When he passes away,
And you gotta console
Your mom, but the words
Don't come out-
The blood thickens in
Your veins, rushes into
Eyes, but tears fail to
Come out.
When these languages
Fail and the senses
Give up-
When you feel like
Stranded in your
Mother tongue-
Where do the feelings go?
Do they transcend
All these situations,
Compulsions and confines
Of the words? Or
Do they keep lingering
And finding vents-
Till one day when you
Realise, you walk like him
And dress like him, and
Carry the same attitude-
And you wonder about
The grief that never left
But learned a quieter
Language like empathy
and gratitude.