It has been quite a while,
since I saw you this up close.
We were seated across each other at the rounded table,
having home-cooked dinner, the way we used to with your family.
We had the usual dishes, served with light hearted banter
and bits of chatter about every day’s trivia.
Big brother was humming a song,
and there was a chime of little sister’s laughter
because Dad told another joke while recounting his days.
You were pretty much the same.
Hair neatly waxed, the way it is after work.
Combed up. To the right.
I recall wondering how distance and familiarity
can co-exist in such harmony.
Quite a cinematic setting, is this scripted?
I must be acting, or dreaming.
You wolfed down every mouthful,
as your jaw clenched and relaxed
and your chopsticks scraped the bottom of the ceramic bowl.
“Eat more! Eat it all!”, Mother teasingly chide
And your eyes darted across the room,
crinkle into a smile, before it hit me –bullseye
as I glanced away,
I caught a glimpse of that silhouette,
that girl by your bed idling and
swinging her legs.
I knew better: we were each other.
Possibly going by another name,
a different face,
just that I was ahead.
She leaned forward.
Our eyes met.
And in that split second
of silent confrontation, I was reminded
that it was my duty,
to be happy for you in this realm –your reality.
An excerpt from a dream, Sunday morning.
