We swayed and tottered together, gently.
One of my arms wrapped around his,
The other across his shoulders.
His shaking steps in hospital slippers
Weak in power but deliberate in direction.
He was leading this dance,
Though he was incapacitated.
The hospital had a faint aroma,
Blend of antiseptics, room freshener
Like any other hospital.
An air, so cold so impersonal.
Yet, full of compassion and care.
There was a rush of shoes
Up and down and across the hall.
Beeps of machines monitoring
The energies propelling life
Of the souls encapsulated in this
Massive life support building.
I could hear a soft hum,
Him singing a few words
As we danced closely.
I glanced at his neck, wrinkly,
His skin weathered and worn.
His hair, sparse and soft
A greyish-white monotone.
Shoulders frail, stature smaller
Than the last time I had seen him.
I breathed him in.
Despite the sanitized hospital scent,
I could still smell my dad.
That smell so vivid in my memory.
From times he used to pick me up
And patted me to sleep
On his then resilient shoulders.
At that moment,
I was taken back.
Back in time to an earlier age.
When he used to dance me around
As I stood on his feet, my palms in his.
But just like this dance,
It never ceases to flow, for anyone.
And a moment now becomes ‘remember when—‘
A moment now, infinitesimal,
Fades away in the time bracket of life.
– Tanisha Karmakar, Amity International School, Noida4 Likes