In the side pockets of my worn out old purse; found I, an old Identity card of mine. I saw an old me staring blankly into my face. I barely know her now,
She who was once me; a ghost, of my past.
A past, that was my present only a few years back.
My identity has changed; am no longer what it says I am.
It has become a tomb now;
My old identity card.
A tomb, upon which is marked
my date of birth
and also the date on which an Identity of mine died a silent death.
A Eulogy of beautiful memories visible to none;
but me, is marked upon it.
I wiped it of its dirt,
the memorial of what I once was
And put it back in my worn out old purse.
I know it is safe there ...
Hey, you usurper,where have you hidden my language? Having robbed me of my language milk, why did you feed me with leftovers of your tongue? vowels and consonants, eaten with fork and spoon, ill fitting my Indian palate; gives me headache and cramps. you took away that which was mine, and made me swallow an English pill. Now, I speak a tongue that is neither yours,nor mine. yes, I speak my "lassi" and "puttu kadala" English.
I saw a dilapidated house; with veins throbbing full of life. Rooms bent double with age. And windows smiling through toothless gums. Sagging skin falling in folds, like a lady's satin done with care. I touched them and shuddered. A spasm of fear jostling my brain. I saw a dilapidated house with rooms bent double with age ,,, photo courtesy :- http://121clicks.com/articlesreviews/the-color-portrait-photography-contest-best-entries Photographer Name : Dzung Viet Le Title : LOVELY SMILE