The Potholes in my Childhood

Chasing a blue pansy barefoot amid the petrichor,

The damp grass tickles my soles

And my heart races with exhilaration.

I climb the dilapidated brick walls

Feeling like I have climbed mountains,

I sit on the steps of my front porch

On a serene starry night

And wonder what lies beyond the

Hills in my hometown,

What lies beyond the crimson sunset over the horizon,

And I dance to the music in the winds,

Oblivious of the leers thrown at me,

Unaware of the lecherous men lurking around me.

My yellow dress with tiny daisies

Can’t shroud my slender thighs

While your baby face masks

Your depraved intentions flawlessly.

You tell me I look pretty

And place your hand on the birthmark

On my left cheek.

But it’s not the only place you place your hand

And 15 years later, I still remember

The 6 by 6 bed with the mandala prints

On the sheets and the locked doors

And muffled sounds from the television

Playing in the background.

The family celebrates your homecoming

With scrumptious food and much enthusiasm;

I recoil in foreboding in my room

As the pink walls close in on me.

When you trace your icy fingers along my spine,

It doesn’t chill me as much as your mellow voice does

You reek of alcohol as you put

A sloppy kiss on the corner of my mouth

And I, I tremble to find the strings of my strength,

Murmur a feeble “No”,

A late “No”, I know

But when you call me with names of endearment

I don’t feel loved at all.

I feel repugnant and detestable,

I feel ashamed and feculent and repellent.

You tell me my fault lies in my beauty

Yes, yes it must be

But why is it that

When I glance in the mirror tonight

All I perceive is the vehemence of my ugliness?

All I recognize is a girl full of insecurities?

The moonlight and my bedside lamp

Fabricate an illusion of beauty.

Beauty is in the rose in my garden,

So fragile, that once you touch it

The petals fall off incessantly.

Beauty is in the cloudy sky

Struck by lightening

And how long before thunder rolls?

How long before I burst from the resentment carried towards men and the world,

The anger for my father,

For he failed to shield me

When my greatest fear was losing his hand in the crowd,

For my mother, so easy for her to say,

“You are not to be blamed; you were just a child”?

She forgot to caution me about the vicious men,

The cousins and uncles and my neighbors.

She taught me to be humble but why naïve?

Today as I watch the waves crashing

The banks of the mighty Brahmaputra,

The wrath momentarily melts away

Everything ceases to matter,

You and the potholes in my childhood.

I realize I have already risen to the surface of the river

And I should stop running.

I remind myself, while you

Redeem yourself in rehab with fake promises,

I am veracious and I am resilient

And on the path to discover me and my body

One of these days, I’ll learn to love myself.