I sit at this long , lonely dining table,
Spread of feast of dishes deceivable,
Green, wet, banana leaf in colors, splashes,
Your favorite pickle, spicy flashes,
I turn away to stare at the ashen floor-
its ginger and – lime red in oil and more,
Think of you; cannot eat.
Recall that you abetted, as we bunked,
Bicycled , hid, roamed, ‘berserked’, flunked,
We strayed, tired, dreamt, hungered together,
Told mom sympathy tales; sought food and cover,
Ate in ‘schemed’, swallowed, quietude,
Bonded as we pretended, hurried.
Tonight, as I sit alone,
Its all memories in stone,
Rice, curry, fish and lime.
My thoughts wish sublime.