Indian Dreaming

I remember as a small boy
waltzing with sticks of chalk
on beaten blackboards
an irregular beat
a mindless pattern
till I had crafted white murukkus1
firmly embedded
like the raw sting of rattan
on my wrist
shortly after

I remember as an adolescent
the wistful tackles of budding grease monkeys
on an August of fifteenth2
while bearing witness to the displays
of blasts of colours in the ebony blanket above
as velvet streams welcomed the onslaught of green pinwheels
and with the vanishing sparkles
the smoky remains in the sky thickened

I remember as a man in black
how the Cadbury-coloured trickles of
bitter brew
intertwined with the white shirt
my chameleonization with the glib cubicles
but how that cripple let loose on me,
the tumbler of paal3
and how I smiled

and remembered to remember these moments
whilst experiencing those I’ve been told
are better

1Indian savoury snack, batter that is formed into a spiral or coil before being fried
2August 15th is the Indian Independence Day
3Tamil for milk

Shriram Jayakumar is currently a 17-year-old Junior College student in Singapore and has a keen interest in writing. He hopes to be able to become a screenwriter one day.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.