29/08/2013 by Siddiqui Fayesal

There was no
Wind as such but
I was chilled to my bone.
I sat with my back to the Sun
And enjoyed my tea.
Black, as suggested
By the owner.

He said that his cook
Was good.
I knew he lied as
The tea tasted like
Muddy brown water.
But I was enjoying
The summer afternoon
In Nainital.

I looked across the courtyard
And saw my mother
In deep conversation
With my dad.
It was their 37th

It was by chance, I’m sure,
That we reached there
Today of all days. It
Was a childhood wish
Of my mother to
Know what
Nainital looked like.

She had nursed it since
She read about it in
Her primary.
That would make her
Eight or ten.

She knew that it was a town
By a lake; that it was a place
So beautiful that it
Was sacred; that it was kept
Hidden from strangers.

Strangers like us.

But here I sit, with a glass
Tumbler in my hand, my mother
Some feet away from
Me, under the cover of clouds.

The lake was there now,
Now it was gone.
The clouds travelled mightily
And hid the lake from our
Strange eyes.

Nainital, the lake, hid itself

Hid from the eyes of me
And my mother.
But my mother seemed content.

She sat with her eyes glazed
And a tiny smile upon her

Whether it was something
My father said
Or, was it the peekaboo
Played by The Lake itself,
I know not.

I don’t need to.

The smile was all that
The lake needed, after which
It wrapped itself in

Siddiqui F.

Note: Wrote this in the Hotel’s courtyard.

5 thoughts on “Strangers

  1. Zaara says:

    Touching One 🙂
    I’ve read this one thrice already, can read it many more times.
    I’m so proud of you 🙂

  2. lovely lovely lovely !

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