Poem: On anklets and sweets

This is familiar. The clanging of small
bells, except that I remember it on
tiny feet. You and me, itching in
our silk, hungry and waiting.

For the damn wedding to be finally
over. So we could eat. Patting my
stomach, I was almost crying. You,
a year older. An inch taller.

Forbidden laddoos shine like neon
lights. The bells of your anklets give
you away. A tight slap on your cheeks.

(Why do they call it tight, the slap?)

The nameless aunt grabs the
laddoo from your right hand. You
come back to me, wet and red faced.

These nameless aunts, unaware of
how small our palms are, never
check both. So in your left hand,
the half-crumbling sweet is broken
in two. We stuff our mouths in one
go, ruining the very holy wedding.

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0 Responses to Poem: On anklets and sweets

  1. Lekhni says:

    Hmm..I don’t remember laddoos much. My childhood memories of weddings involve drinking numerous cups of grape “crush”.


  2. guruprasad says:

    i guess we were luckier. logic and practicality defined that if it was a morning wedding (as tam-brahm weddings are wont to) we ate breakfast at the dining hall before we proceeded to the wedding hall. or if it was a reception then we made sure we had dinner before we went to congrautlate the newly-weds. this way we beat the crowd and could leave early too 🙂

    i don’t know if it was just my imagination but i always felt food tasted better when it was served on banana leaves instead of greasy ceramic plates!


  3. bhumika says:

    this one reminded me of A.K. Ramanujan’s poetry – nostalgia, familiar sounds, little details of grand affairs and especially the ‘nameless aunts’


  4. Lekhni: Grape crush? 🙂 All that sugar would have made the motley group even more unmanageable. Not that laddoos didn’t do that – but there’s only so much laddoo a kid can eat.

    guruprasad: I think it’s a little tricky when your parents are very close to the bride and groom. You need to do random things – like sprinkle rose water on sleepy guests, offer “kalkandu” and generally look cute. Banana leaves are wonderful. But I always had trouble when the food in question involved very runny rasam.

    Aadisht: I demand you explain your comment. 🙂

    bhumika: Ah.. if only!


  5. Amrit says:

    Hey nice poem… and reflective too…. but d beauty is marred by one small mistake. Shudn’t it be mouths instead of months in the last para?


  6. V says:

    chanced by.. thumsup…!


  7. rr says: