Dusting of Scent
Dusting of scent
of white jasmines
from the shawls.
An old woman looks
at her wrinkled face
in the mirror.
Again,
she forgets
that her youth follows her
like the breath
of an alcoholic.
Tombs with Golden Engravings
Nameless, orphaned children
who laugh out loud
when someone tells them
their father is missing.
Their laughter,
as infectious
as birthday balloons.
For them,
Father is as good as
a smoke
no one knows
where it comes from.
They bite into
ragged fabric,
sitting on abandoned chairs,
peering through cracked windows
of the houses
where their mothers once worked.
“They are fine, they are fine,”
says the society guard
who chased their mothers
out of posh neighborhoods
for having nightmares,
pointing to reports
where meals for the poor
are fairly distributed
on paper.
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About the Author
Laila Brahmbhatt is a writer with roots in Kashmir and Jharkhand, India. She currently lives and works in New York as a senior consultant. Her poetry has appeared in newspapers and journals including The Madras Courier, NII Journal, The Wise Owl, Poetry Catalog, Borderless Journal, Poems India, and Kashmir Pen. Her haiku has been published in several magazines, with work forthcoming in Modern Haiku.
