A whiff of jasmine
I am five again.
Trotting beside my father.
The village temple
The warm granite courtyard
Pillars black with lamp soot.
A blast of cold air
Laden with scents-
Lamp oil
Tulsi leaves
Camphor
And jasmine.
Always jasmine.
I inhale deep.
Jasmine. A thick garland
In life my father was austere
In death, covered with flowers.
Jasmine, rose, tuberose
A chain of tulsi leaves.
Nothing registers
Except the smell of jasmine.
He slides into the furnace.
The doors slam shut.
He is gone.
I am left with jasmine.
1 comment:
Hi! Stumbled across your blog while looking around for new content to read. The concept of 'Drabbles' is something I haven't heard of before, but sounds fun!
If you want, we can be internet friends :D I would love if you could visit my blog as well! It's so hard to find people who regularly post on blogspot.
Take care!
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