I went missing at age four.
Whether I was dodging
daytime ennui or loneliness,
I can't tell.
As the sun dissolved,
the house shook its siesta off.
I wasn't home.
Search squads fanned out
the streets and my mother's
heartbeat put a sprinter's
speed to shame.
When no child was found
and suspense broke all
barriers, I quietly emerged.
From behind a sofa.
The suffocation had
finally gotten to me.
The house shook with
a tiny earthquake of joy.
I was only four when
I learned that absence
is the best way
to reclaim presence.
Having lost and been lost... this is too close to the bone. Am not sure that absence is the best way to reclaim presence
ReplyDeleteHugs, Charu. I meant that in the sense of how a person is missed (and thus becomes present in memory/the mind) when they're missing/absent. :)
Deletethank you Bhaswati.. yes, I get it.. just the setting .. too many memories
DeleteI understand, Charu. Grateful for your reading and feedback, always. :)
DeleteWow! This brought back my own little "going missing" episode at around the age of 4. Was a little more terrifying for me.
ReplyDeleteI love the way you have ended the poem - sometimes a person's absence is what seems to reclaim the presence.
Thanks, Geethanjali. Whenever I recall this episode from my childhood, I realize how terrifying it must have been for my family. The things little people sometimes do without understanding the consequences... :-)
DeleteSuch a sweet and tender story, with its attendant palpitations (for your mum) and search party drama. What shines through for me is the child's innocent realisation that arrival after being missed makes for much joyous fussing.
ReplyDeleteThat indeed was the sweet surprise for me, Jayasree. I was scared that everyone would scold me for hiding. Instead, I was greeted with profuse hugs and kisses. :-)
DeleteWhat a lovely story, Bhaswati! I had an alsmot identical experience, also at roughly the same age (a cousin and I hid under the bed!) but you have drawn such a lovely conclusion from it :D
ReplyDeleteGiti, I'm delighting at this common thread that binds all of our childhoods. Thank you for reading. :-)
DeleteSuch a sweet recounting..
ReplyDeleteThank you, Deepti. :-)
DeleteBaah! reminded me of the famous line "Kadombini moriya proman korilo shey more nai" (Kadombini proved by dying that she wasn't dead).
ReplyDeleteAh, thank you for recalling that, Gangotryi. It would have never struck me. :-)
DeleteHave you read Rabindranath's Hariye Jawa? What a lovely poem this one is and it reminded me of that :)
ReplyDeletehttps://www.tagoreweb.in/Verses/palataka-75/hariye-jaoya-1552
DeleteHain re, eta toh porechhi, onek baar. It used to haunt me as a child, but now as I read it, it brought me a smile. Thank you so much for recalling.
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