Wedding Album
In this open-top car nuptial procession,
I feel the eyes of Triplicane’s lanes on me.
The car moves slower than men, its headlights
dimmer than the petromax lamps.
I was in the temple, and it took me so long.
I’m sorry.
*
Darling, the umbrella your father gave us
is too large: shade enough for you and me,
our children, too. If it gets blown away by the wind,
I shall run after it, and I would want you
to run after me, our children, after us.
*
Between the mantras, I chant
a love poem in your ears.
The nieces and nephews on our laps
might overhear us, you say.
*
The pundit points
to an invisible star in the sky.
We watch it together,
twin fish merged in one.
*
After prostrating,
we pick from between our hair,
saffron coloured grains.
*
Posing for the group photograph,
we are a one day hero-heroine,
and our many, many relatives, all extras.
*
Make sure we keep this album out of reach
of Chella and Kalyani: when they’re born,
they will look for themselves amidst us and tear it.
*