Car Memoirs

 

Bitter Lemon afternoons,

While you drove us home,

Back when I first started school;

I take sips, feigning to be brave,

All but childish.

 

I dropped my soy ice cream once,

On the car-carpet, I was ten,

Sulked in silence; terrified,

You merely laughed,

Bought me one, all new.

 

Half a decade later,

The hybrids had clogged Lanka!

We talked cars, stuck in the traffic,

For me, it was always the Beetle,

You teased me to no end.

 

Then began the boisterous debates,

Over generations of music,

War crimes and whatnot,

Whom to cast my first vote,

I was turning twenty.

 

Two years down the line,

I stare at the lamp posts, grocery stores,

From every day;

You stare ahead, intrigued,

By the Marutis in the traffic.

 

Between us, chilled air. Silence.

Except for my “hmm”s and nods,

To your mandatory queries;

A head-turn, a single, “Thattha”,

Would revive the ashened conversations,

 

But we lag on,

Me, squashed with the guilt of the confused,

The massive disappointer,

You, burdened with remorse,

Of being a failure.

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