Issue 11 Contributor Spotlight: Poetry by Dr. Anamika Nath

Rafoo

6:05 a.m.
Mother is darning a sock; father’s.
The thread is white, the sock is almost gone
She says it will last a few more days- this is victory.

Kitchen:
The pressure cooker whistles like something urgent
I am told to lower the flame,
I am told everything can be managed, if done on time.

9:40 a.m.
Once a man outside the bus stand
stitched tears so neatly
you had to look twice to find where it broke;
now there is a mall that sells tears on jeans.

Afternoon:
I am learning how to fold things: clothes, ambition
Mother says don’t argue, father says don’t waste
The country says adjust.

2:15 p.m.
There is a hole in my brother’s shirt,
No one notices.
There is a hole in my sentence,
Everyone does.

Evening:
Once we knew how to repair a sleeve, a fight,
now we upgrade: new phone, new people,
Old ones become embarrassment.

7:32 p.m.
I ask why do we not fix things anymore,
Mother laughs, says who has the time,
then stitches father’s pocket again,
so his money doesn’t fall out.

Night:
I think of all the things we keep saving
men’s shirts, family names
and all the things we let tear
our sentences, our sleep.

12:11 a.m.
There are no rafoo-walas now.
I look at my own hands; they know how to cook, clean and hold
but not how to mend what is breaking inside the house,
inside me.

About the Author

Anamika Nath is an Indian poet and fiction writer from Tripura. Her work has appeared in national and international publications and has received several literary honours. She is the author of Bones and Blossoms and teaches forensic medicine in Assam.