Featured Image by Siddharth Sapre
the kitchen in my ancestral home is my grandma’s fortress,
home to the women and a guesthouse to the men
in my family.
6:00 am knows my grandma’s morning face,
her unpinned saree
and tangled grey hair.
stored in the creases of her palms are untold stories of
her very first try to make chai,
her daughter’s neat braids,
her son’s clean uniform.
and from her fingertips she weaves bedtime stories of
the good and the bad.
a lone blue chair sits on the porch of my ancestral home,
home to my grandpa and him only.
he watched the evening Aslam bus arrive at our stop,
reminiscing about the times he came back after hours of being away.
the wooden cupboard standing in his room,
holds all his white clothes
and yellowed papers that has worries spelled in ink.
he kept to himself
but when the sun set,
he retired into that very room,
whispering thoughts to Lord Rudra
taking form in his mind.
By Shivani Anil
Shivani can be found being a couch potato, obsessing over anime, kpop and kdrama while she isn’t trying to juggle her three majors: Literature, psychology and journalism. In an alternate universe she lives near the mountains and is the owner of an old bookstore but in this one, she collects books for her shelf and dreams about writing a novel.
Instagram: @pihuehue

Beautiful and perfect 👍🏻👌🏻
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Beautifully written 💕
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Beautiful poetry shivani 👏🏻
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Wow. Admirable way to remind our ancestors
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Wonderful!!!
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