I know this is going to sound awkward
But I cannot hold it inside me any longer
My skin, my veins, my body are urging
Me to ask you this and I can resist them no more
The question is this: am I going to die?

I know it sounds awkward coming from
A six-year old girl; but the question has been
Troubling me for quite some time; I feel
Quite relieved already getting it out of my system
But not as much as I would feel once I know

So, tell me; tell me the truth and I shall accept
It as it is; I shall not be melodramatic about
It at all; I shall feel quenched and nothing more
Haven’t you taught me that truth is important
Even if it hurts or even if it is deadly?

It actually sounds very amusing considering
That it was only as recent as the new year’s eve
That I felt as if I was going to live forever
I remember looking at the stars and whispering
To myself: why couldn’t I go on like they do?

It doesn’t look too amusing now that I am here
Lying helplessly and enervated on this bed with
Fever running through my bones; my fingers ache
As I hold on to your hand and I cannot bring
Myself to hold your hand tighter than this

This fever has suppressed my spirit and the fire
That used to burn within me; it has caused my throat to hurt with every cough I take; my head is hammered every minute as my lips go dry; the
Only thing it has not killed is my curiosity

Yes, I come back to the question again; do not
Try to let go of my grip even though it would not
Take a monumental effort for you to do so if
You so desired; I know we are all going to meet
Our fate; will I meet mine anytime soon?

What is it that sticks
to your skin and gradually
accumulates and begins
to form layers and layers of itself?
What is it that later
starts to melt and seeps
through the pores and mixes
with the blood in your veins?
What is it that then flows
to your heart to find
for itself a permanent
place of residency?
What is it that settles
in your heart and slowly
begins to take control of
your internal organs and systems?
What is it that later
dictates your mood
emotions and your state of mind?

No, it’s not love

‘What happened after I died?’
Hmmm, that’s an interesting question
Well, I found myself in heaven
And was given a home
Amongst the gods

It was pleasant, charming
And very real and also very
Unbelievably bright and
Sunny; I had the best of clothes
And the choicest food

My body felt no ache or
Pain; my bruises were healed
My skin was smooth and
Wrinkle-free and my hair
Was dark and glossy

I looked the best version
Of myself; and everyone I
Adored were there to sit
With me and chatter over
A cup of espresso coffee

Yes, I had everything that
One could ever wish for;
Despite all that there was
One flaw in it: it didn’t have
The two persons I love the most:
My husband and my daughter

Without giving it another thought
I left all of that and took on
This lifeless, ghoulish form
To come down and be with you;
for what is heaven without
The ones you love the most

After class, the kids rush
In the arms of their mothers
(And sometimes fathers)
Who are waiting for them
Outside the school gate

I am the last to walk out
Of the class because I
Have nobody waiting for me
I plod with my eyes to the
Ground, hoping to avoid
The sight of parental smiles

I try to mind my own business
I really try; but every once in a
While an idiot would call out
My name so loudly that I am
Left with no choice but to
Turn my face to them

They have only one question
To ask me and I don’t know
Why they never ask me about
You; they only want to know
About her; they ask me this:
Where’s your mom?

And I feel every nerve of my
Body tingle with embarrassment
At that question; it makes my
Whole body shiver and I am
Not sure how they can never see it

So, I come home and wait for
You; I twist and turn the question
In my head so I could find the
Best version of it that will fetch
Me the answer

Where’s mom?
Where has mom gone to?
When is mom going to come back?
Is mom going to pick me up from school tomorrow?
And a hundred more

So I ask you and hope that
You will help me out of this
Situation but you never do
You turn my question into a
Distraction and you bring up
The things that you want to
Talk about and that’s how
The question always hangs

Lately, however, I am filled
With this unquenchable urge
To ask you something more
Not because I have to answer
The kids back in school
But because I want to know

I want to know my mother
I want to know what kind of person she is
I want to know whether she has green skin or blue
I want to know whether she has stars for eyes
I want to know whether she believes in unicorns
I want to know everything about her

I want to know if she is left-handed or right
I want to know the way she ties her hair
I want to know what her favourite colour is
I want to know the sound of her voice
I want to know how she reads a fable
I want to know who she is

But you never tell me anything
You hide from me a diamond
As if the stone would lose its
Sheen if it ever came to be
Brought out in the light

It is very selfish of you
To keep that diamond all
To yourself, locked and
Carefully hidden away
In the darkest cavum