You tell me you are okay
Over the phone;
Your voice carried through
The nine rivers and five states
That I could not cross,
Quarantined here at a home
Many miles away from home.
Your voice oozing excitement
Over the sound of sudden rain
That you cannot feel
Much like my absent presence
That promises to unfurl itself
Like the morning glory
In your palm each morning
As you wake up from a dream
That still keeps you to your pillow.
You speak longingly of the rain
Making it a metaphor for our love
And I whisper slowly "I miss you"
The three words uttered cautiously
In nine quivering syllables
Each disrupted by something
Less important than the other
Just things I have to keep up with
Being at a home, away from home;
Our love surviving
On these quiet texts
And dreams that still let us
Construct a world together
In times of social distancing.
So each night, before going to sleep
We quarantine our shared dreams
Lest our love succumbs
To the pandemic.
-Iqra Raza
(Iqra is reading for her MA in English from St Stephens's College, Delhi University)
Beautifully captured the times we live in. Things we took for granted are the things we now pine for.
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