Ashok Niyogi on the Other Side of the
Freshly Dead
The apartment is crowded,
Cousins, friends,
Bearded aunts,
Uncles with cataract,
Debtors and creditors
And sundry hangers on.
Even from beneath the shroud
The smell of incense is strong.
They have bathed me,
And anointed me with sandal paste,
I wish they would remove
This cotton wool
They have shoved up my nostrils,
And ease the furrow on my brow.
I bubble with hilarity,
The moustache line of an aunt quivers,
Between the mountains of her breasts
Builds an earthquake,
I know she is going to shriek.
It was no accident,
Just meticulously planned, continuous abuse,
Ultimately was it the kidneys,
Or just the massive blood loss?
I catch your eye across the room
And see that you share my mirth,
I even try to wink at you
But the eyelids don't respond.
Even though you understand,
And across a room full of mourners,
Surreptitiously wink back.
© Copyright Ashok Niyogi 2006