Poem by Gayatri Lakhiani Chawla (Prepared Angela Kosta)
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GAYATRI LAKHIANI CHAWLA
Gayatri Lakhiani Chawla is an award-winning poet, translator, healer and French teacher from Mumbai. She is the author of three poetry collections - Borders and Broken Hearts, shortlisted for the PVLF Author Excellence Awards 2023, Invisible Eye long listed for Cochin Lit Fest Poetry Prize 2018 and The Empress’ Winner - II of the 2018 US National Poetry Contest by Ræd Leaf Foundation for Poetry & Allied Arts. Accolades for her poetry include a special mention award in the Architectural Poetry Annual Competition 2020, the Panorama Special Jury Award, being shortlisted by Asia Pacific Writers and Translators. Her translated Sindhi poem ‘Safar’ won the first prize at the Kavya Kaumudi International Poetry Award. She is recipient of the Rahi Kadam Inspiration Award 2021. She is the author of ‘Healing Elixir’ The Hawakal Handbook of Angel Therapy, Numerology &
Remedies.
BITS OF A WORKING RESTAURANT
She comes from a small quaint town of Amasya,
to work in a fancy Diners in Istambul
she wears a red polka dotted scarf everyday
as part of her attire,
elbow deep in soapy water of a sink
she cleans piles and piles of dirty plates
her eyes are romantically locked at the cleaner boy from Greece.
He lives in a small apartment
sharing it with eight other people.
He dreams of marrying the Diner owner’s daughter
She is nineteen and sophisticated,
his kind of girl.
His eyes look like those of a caged animal
He is craving for freedom
He misses home and the warmth of his mother
On days like that,
He unbottles all his somatic energies into mopping the floors.
The floors sparkle like the pieces of broken glass
scattered by the waiter a refugee from Aleppo.
Every time the manager yells at him
He can hear him crystal clear
unlike during the airstrikes back home.
He wishes never to go back,
He prays the roof above him doesn’t blow off
He is grateful for the food on his plate.
Next weekend,
She will wear more make up
hoping the cleaner boy takes notice,
the cleaner boy will accidently
brush shoulders with the Diner owner’s daughter,
the waiter will embrace the truth
that this is Home and he is safe.
TONIGHT
Tonight is lonely and it’s just started to rain. I’m wondering when and how Loneliness crept in and made a home for himself. He used to pay me a visit once every week. Loneliness was always an uncouth guest. He sprang from nowhere, perhaps he liked the oriental lamp in the corner who generously allowed him to play with her shadow maybe black and white photographs on the desk, it could be the humming of the crickets, the leaves of the palm tree that I had planted, old movie tickets put away in my cupboard. Rain would excite him and soon I head to the balcony to peek into the world of people.
Outside the world is a deep shade of grey, I stare at the buildings as I breathe in the kitchen aromas brewing a monsoon stew. Just then the telephone rings, it will be someone I can talk to, I hurry to pick up the phone waving at him to go away but he just waits there for me on the sofa taking a nap on the red and blue cushions.
BLOODY MARY
Like the rock salt that corrodes the tiny steel spoon
in the yellow ceramic bottle,
a flicker of tubelight in my kitchen
is a presence of a passing spirit.
The arrival of the dark beady eyed raven
flying down from the peepal tree
his eyes fixed on a piece of meat
I carve on the kitchen sill.
Amavasya night my waist length hair get all knotted up
I want to pick up a pair of scissors
Snip Snip Snip
At the entrance of the house
Kolhapuri chappals left in haste
Resting titled one above the other,
a symbol of travel
my dead aunt used to say.
Strange noises from the apartment above mine
strange because it’s one a.m.
and yes, it’s vacant.
I didn’t see my alter ego
becoming a demon from hell
whispering Jump right in
as I stared at the Niagra Falls
looking seductive and wicked.
Signs of mental illness
depression, a feeling of withdrawal
being delusional.
I sit to peel and cut beetroot
I gape
I have blood on my hands
the color of a vampire
blood is flowing from my hands onto the floor
Just then there is a doorbell
What now!
Prepared Angela Kosta
