Missing

I've lost all of the things I put
away in that box. That book that torn
diary (dog-eared but with sheets hanging
out like dogs' tongues). That map marked in colour
with the puke of cheap plastic pens. The love letters
I have
      so
      carefully
      stowed
      away
(perhaps so I might come across one by accident).
That wristwatch of mine which stops still
like me (but at will)
and the green Solapuri sheet which though roofless
was home
every time we played house.
And if you look closely, under everything else,
you might find me.

Not.

Jaylakshmi Subramaniam

Jai is currently pursuing his MA in Sociology from the University of Mumbai. He likes reading, poetry, writing and cooking. He's crazy about Kurt Vonnegut's novels.