We all deserve cassatta ice-creams
My sister, friend,
said she was feeling sad
through a WhatsApp message,
sitting in Delhi,
occupying the last few days
offered to her by the house
she used to live in
for the last 5 years.
I had returned from a hot day at my institute
to the shade at home in Palakkad
craving some ice cream.
I ordered for her a cassatta ice cream
and a nice body wash,
whose smell reminded me of
a very old smell of oil,
through a delivery app.
My partner and I are returning to our small town
the following week,
on a highway,
from a big city;
he remarked that there are too many trucks on the road
since these online delivery companies
have taken over the world.
My friend felt very touched when she received the ice-cream,
she told me on a video call immediately after.
She shared it with her friend,
and forgot to share a picture with me.
I felt happy too.
What did people do before the time of telephones?
Would the sadness have disappeared
by the time a letter reached the other side of the country?
Maybe women of a certain age could never be alone.
Maybe women did not talk to other women who were not family.
Maybe loving vicariously and getting hurt by someone never existed beyond a secret.
Maybe they all deserved cassatta ice creams without delivery apps
We all deserve cassatta ice creams, despite delivery apps.
Cassatta icecreams, shaped like a rainbow, but not with all colours in it…
Another friend texts me, she is a mother too;
She asks me how I am taking everything,
that is happening in another part of the world
Gaza
She cannot go by a day without it shaking her
I recently went through a surgery
I lay awake the whole of last month
after the surgery
Now there is embodied pain and real wounds in my uterus
to blame my sleeplessness for
What will happen when I heal?
Will nightmares of Gaza cease?
Will nightmares of impending election results stop?
I have not replied to my friend yet.
Two kittens— white and grey and white and ginger
sleep peacefully on the net by my bedroom balcony.
They have grown up here on the roof;
Their multicoloured mother has not taken them down to the earth
keeping them safe, until she will not return one day.
They will sleep until the next moment;
it is raining;
thunder will strike soon.
They are always anxious
not knowing what to expect next from this world
They sleep, yet.