Reshma Ramesh, India
Por: Reshma Ramesh
The anatomy of an Apology
The way you say
'' Sorry''
Is like the way you read out a word from
An English newspaper for my benefit
And it takes a walk out of your mouth
Into my living room
With its legs like a child’s handwriting
Eyes made of air
All ears to the mathematics of mistakes
Toes with vertigo
Tongues that pickle in rain
Its oiled hair has left a stain on my yellow cushion
That will disappear when the lights are turned off.
My wounds and your sorry are conjoined twins
Sharing vowels and heartache
They are sisters trying to be amphibians
They are brothers trying to fight death
Now it sleeps in my bed, your sorry
Like a co passenger on a train
Its skin a coniferous tree
Its throat a landscape of regrets
It snores just like you, keeping me
Awake all night
When it turns around breathing heavily
Through its harmonium chest
My wounds forget their language and falling dust
They slip out of bed, sits on the low wicker chair
They are a capsized ship learning to swim
Waiting for dawn
It is morning now
My bed is empty
Your sorry has left behind its shape
On my pillow
And it reads
I love you
Wounds
Wounds have their own purposes
Some kneel on bare knees, photosynthesizing
Pain discreetly and storing them as bottled jasmine
So that they smell like beauty to strangers
Some wounds lie open in our eyes
One dimensional, looking like a lie
Clairvoyant, stern as a wall clock
Reminding you to lick them back to life
In the middle of the dead night
Some wounds sleep, like eyes in prayer
They are just words running like ground water
When his tongue meets yours, they wake up
And show him where exactly you are hurting
Some wounds are children running in the park
In the present, forgetting to eat or sleep, believing
In fairytales, gentleness of the world and closure
Most wounds are ready to heal
When night falls, they hum like crickets
Calling distant oars, waiting for nostalgia to cease
Like a patient lying in the hospital bed waiting for death.
How to write a poem about a Town
Close your eyes and choose your favorite town
the one that makes you feel warm like the
blanket that your grandma stitched for you with her own hands
then invite the town for a date, dinner preferably,
cook some warm porridge and serve it with ghee
watch the town melt and take you through its rivers
while you pause to hear stories of women washing
clothes on the banks, priests saying prayers in the temples
sons performing last rites of their father, reverberating mosques,
a widow slipping into adulthood while water fills her mud pot,
temple bells ringing, sauntering neem trees
watch how his eyes light up in the evening
like streetlamps floating away slowly into the dusk.
After dessert gently place your palms on his and ask if he wants to make love
then lead him to your bed and kiss his trees, leaf by leaf, blooming flowers
and busy bees, tongue the mountains and hillocks, draw in their warmth, and close your eyes
and let his hands wander over your skin teaching you how the boats slide over
water, the dampness of paddy fields and how the air glides over the palm trees
let him hold you close to his chest and hear the heartbeat of every traveler,
when he pulls his head back look into his eyes for shadows of forts, shrines, and valleys
feel the flowers in spring, chilly winter feet and the tenderness of summer scent
wait until he whispers, he loves you and you want to say it back
but do not
then you pick up a pen and a book
write about his alley ways, open wells, over hanging trees, long verandas
about his bottled jack fruit smells, sprouting climbers and
how his eyes every night closes to a still diaphragm
this is how
you write a poem about a town.
Epilogue
You
Break me
Into
Body parts
Cleavage
Lips
Waist
Vagina
Feet
Butt
And then
Fix me back
Egoistic
Loud
Lazy
Boring
Selfish
Bitch
But in your heart
Of hearts
You do know that
I am none of this
Just a woman
That you can never have
The Divide
He said there is a wall now in the middle of the yard
Dividing your grandfather’s garden into
TWO 2 TOO TWO
I lie down on my bed staring at the roof wondering
How would it be to divide a home, a garden, a roof,
A well, some tears, hope, love and a body into TWO
There would be TWO sides, right and left
Depending on where one stands and who decides
Which side would get the Mango tree with red ants that bit me all over,
Roots running deep, dipping into the water that run below the earth?
Which side would get book worms crawling on poetry in musty books,
The air that carried the fragrance of the Parijatha, the smell of fish fry?
Which side would get my grandmother’s aching knees and swollen joints,
The whiteness of my grandfather’s dhoti, the laughter from my childhood?
Which side would get the disappointment in my grandmother’s eyes,
the tadpoles in the well, the mud homes me and my sisters built for crabs.
Which side will my grandfather turn in his grave when he sees the wall of red bricks
Running through his marigolds, yellow roses (with insects), sweet chickoos and his bones.
Two sides
None of the sides have ponds, millipedes with boots, stories of Daivas and pretas
None have sweet ganji with mango pickle, no straw mats thrown on the mud floor,
None have the patience of Tulasi lamp waiting to be lit every evening
No laughter of carefree children, none of the sides have my grandparent’s wrinkled hands,
And all that is left is the undivided blue sky above where every night
The moon light leaks between my grandparents’ broken teeth.
Dr. Reshma Ramesh graduated as Bachelor of Dental Surgery from Bangalore University, is an award-winning bilingual poet who writes in English and Kannada. Her book (Mosaic of Memories) Mosaico de Recuerdos bilingual book of poems in Spanish and English has been awarded the Poetry collection of the year at the Boao International poetry awards 2024. Reshma has the unique honor of her poem being displayed permanently in the ruins of Ancient City of Olympos, Antalya, Türkiye. She is awarded Feminenartfest International Honorary Award and The Light of Galata Award, Istanbul, International Indija Pro Poet Award Serbia, Karnataka Women Achiever’s Award, Savitribai Phule National Women Achiever Award, Women Achievers Award MI, India. The second edition of her Turkish book’ My Heart in Olympos Kalbim Olympos ta’ is displayed in Bozcaada Museum, Canakkale, Türkiye. Her poems have been translated into twenty-one languages and performed all over the world. She is a resident poet @ Kaavya Sanje and has played an important role by bringing ‘poetry to people’, by facilitating poetry recitals, installations and workshops in social spaces such as parks, schools, street markets and residential areas, building a strong socio-cultural ties, engaging the differently abled, LGBTQ, rural and urban communities, has voiced verses in solidarity with the voices of the oppressed and marginalized, reflecting the political and socio cultural milieu of a given time and space. She is a distinction holder in Bachelor of Fine Arts Photography, has held many international solo photography exhibitions, she is a creative writer, translator, activist and practices Dental Surgery in Bengaluru, India.
