Sunday, 23 December 2018

One day you will pick it up
the way you had picked it up from the shelf in a bookshop.
Then it was brand new, smelling of print.
Then for many days, you basked with it in the sun, sitting by the window,
leaving it only when you needed a coffee break.

Then came a time when it gathered dust in a corner of a book-case.

One day now
you pick it up again.
You hate stains on anything that is immaculate.
You are startled by the stains on a certain page,
stubborn stains
left by the strawberries you carelessly put between its pages
as a bookmark on that day.

Sushama Karnik
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