On Sinning

I am a terrible sloth

In the throes of your memory

I linger on thoughts

And sink and sink and sink

Deeper, farther, in the uncovered wells

Of the past –

Strewn like landmines in my present

I hunger to the point of mindlessness

For that scent that was yours

And the air that filled me

With a peace I haven’t felt since

It is indeed, an unforgivable gluttony.

I take pride in having known you

In being with you so closely

I lust for the gentle curves

Of your fondant-green hills

I envy those who can behold the sight

On waking while I make do with

Feverish dreams

I keep my wrath from coming down on Time

For who knows it may

Bring me, once again, in your vicinity?

Take me back to Shillong, Father, for I have sinned,

And in any other place, a sinner is all I’ll be.