Home Calling

Aloof from his serene rural home, 

stands Rehan aside the bay of San Francisco. 

He gets lost in the rattle of the fleeting boulevards;

the onus of bread and butter makes him sprint

throughout the city. The serene ghettos of his room encompass

a fading aura as her mother awaits his phone call scheduled at dusk. 

The time atween the morning and evening makes

her feel like ages. 

Winter is nearby. She is great at knitting yet wool needles

lay idle in a pile of old woollen clothes. 

The erstwhile moments of Rehan in the house

is her only jewel she fondly wears, nowadays. 

Her zeal to cook food is no longer with her

as the flavour savoury belongings

wander in the tedious streets of past. 

The dining table is now a seesaw of moments and memories

where memories strive to overturn moments day in and day out. 

The evening gets faraway when the noon 

wraps itself in the guise of pending bills and loans. With 

a pungent knock at the door, the footsteps of an agent rescinds her

anticipation into desolation. Despondent. With a drop of faith in the ocean;

she looks up to the sky which is her last resort—

for the Prophets say, 

Heaven lies beneath the feet of mother.