Today is such a “christmasy’ day. My dressed up friends posting FB photos. All happy. “Merry Christmas” they say, as they hand me the plum cakes with luscious raisins that they have lovingly soaked for me, over the last month.
They smile lovingly at me, watching me eat their pork curry and sannas. Mangalorean friends, who see me as worthy enough to be invited, inspite of my meagre upbringing. They like my sense of humour you know. My short sarcastic quips, my acerbic tongue. This coupled with my kind spirit makes me a worthy party prop. I have sneaked in access into a higher social status.
This chrismas day, a baby died. No no, it wasn’t for want of a ventilator. She died of dehydration. Nothing that some fluids couldn’t have sorted out. I send her a telepathic message. I send her one tear. I tell her “baby I cant send you anymore coz there are more like you who will die.” She smiles at me like an angel and disappears. I am angry that she smiled at me. She is not the one I want. I don’t want a dead baby to smile benevolently at me. I want an angry one. I want a baby that throws a dagger in my face, furious that I let her die. I want an articulate one, that questions whoever let her die. I want an angry one, a vehement one. I am tired of these nice babies………that smile…..and die… and leave me to pick up the pieces.
Co z I cant. I cant pick up pieces of broken hearts.
I cant sit and watch another funeral
I cant mouth inanities
I cant cry anymore
Coz my tears have dried up.
Watching the lights and the cribs and the multiple baby jesuses
I watch the snazzy cars
The kids who don’t care
The mothers who care
About those kids
And nothing else
Something like despair
And I do the only thing I know to do best
Till Christmas is over
And till its back