To 2019

This was a year of monstrous waves. This year taught me surfing. This year was good.

This year set you free, Bu, Now you can float over the clouds And see the penguins of Madagascar And the steppes of Ukraine Where bison once roamed free. Oh, you can see them all.

You smoked a cigarette yesterday, Half-hiding from public view, Until Netaji arrived, and you dropped the butt in haste. “Were you Gumnami Baba?” — You asked, half-shy, and very reverent. You ended up having lunch together. Rice, daal, Rohu fish and curd. It was the meal of a lifetime, but you will have many more of them. Oh, your eyes looked so happy!

This was a year of many, many wars, Bu, for you, and for me. Your battle is over, and mine is still on. Everyday I fight, I surrender, I drown, float, and fly. And every wound and every joy that kind life has ever brought me Rise from their graves to fight alongside. Did you know your girl has such a strong battalion, Bu?

This year was good. Oh, this year was so good, Bu. Every time I look up at the sky now, I see your large, large face. All-knowing, all-understanding, And not very judgmental. So I know that I have you with me now More than I ever had before. And you will be there forever.

(Written in memory of my father who breathed his last on 03-Sep-2019)