Burial – Terribly Tiny Tales

ttt┬áSeries – This piece is a part of the new series I’m working on. It is using snippets from the pieces written by various artists and writing a story of my own. To read more work from the amazing artists or write your own, visit Terribly Tiny Tales

The following piece is an inspiration from the extract by Hardik Nagar

When the countries partitioned in 1947,
My father brought you home.
You, one of the many members of
more than one houses.

I know, you’ve been here since forever,
And you’ve liked the stay,
Haven’t you?

It is strange,
You hiding sometimes,
under the bed,
inside the cupboards,
between relationships,
unknown lands,
and where all
are you still planning to hide?

My mother held my father’s hand
on the thin road that
the countries decided to make.
“Partition of the countries,
Partition of the religions,
and Partition of the kinds”
Call it whatever you want,
it made my mother walk out of her home,
having seen slaughtered parents,
grandparents,
no one to live for,
no one to laugh for,
all, in the name of the partition.
And when my grandfather asked her,
she put a bindi, and said,
“Yes, I am a Hindu.”

Yesterday,
my father buried you,
in the graveyard near our old house;
along with my mother’s bindi.
I’m getting a tombstone made,
in your memory.
It is going to be called –
“Secret – 1947-2018”

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