By Talha Bin Ehtasham
Today is the third day since you left.
Overnight; on that same express train,
Like countless times before.
This time though
feels the worst.
I know you missed home
and that you had plans,
But seriously, two months!
Even you know that you’ll end up bored
Come to think of it,
I didn’t give you much reason to stay either.
Maybe that’s why I turn now to this poem
Or maybe I’m just an idiot.
Today I heard your voice over the telephone.
Everything was alright you said,
But you sounded worn to me.
There’s so much I wanted to talk to you about
Tell you all about how you make me feel
But all I could come up with was
“I’m bored here”
and awkward silences.
A mirror staring back with estranged familiarity,
The intermittent clicks of a rickety ceiling fan
My companions in your absence.
The book you’d asked for sits on my shelf
I spent three days and their nights rushing through it
And then I forgot.
Just like all of those things
I remembered I had to say to you
after you broke away from that parting hug.
That book too, along with the rest of me
Mocks and takes digs at my helplessness.
Why are they adding to the gauntlet that is summer break?
Do they not see the torment your absence puts me in?
I ask the disheveled man in the mirror
He stares deep into my eyes
and two clicks later says,
You’re an idiot.
Talha Bin Ehtasham is a student of English Literature in Jamia Millia Islamia university, Delhi.