The five sandalwood bottles
seen in the almirah
after dad’s death,
Dad fathered six but always
five came to the forefront while
alive and remain so after his death.
A long standing staff of dad
participates in the division
where mom involves
with articulation saying
she requires precision,
emphasizes on fair partition,
if one gets less, she compensates
by buying the deficiency
the five turn happy.
The staff hesitantly asks mother,
what about the sixth one? Her share?
She warns him to be quiet.
Wiping his moist eyes,
he walks to me. makes gestures,
being not able to talk,
one he is emotionally choked.
other the instruction from mother,
keeps his tongue tied
Pacifying him in sign language, i
point out to the bottles which father has left,
significant of his intentions. The man counts,
Not the sixth child in order,
but the fourth, I smile
at times my lips taste salty.
Meenas Poems 