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by Poornima Laxmeshwar

My grandmother was clear
About the set of instructions
She asked me not to sit
Not to touch anything
Or even be touched
It would become an offence
Marked against me

She sent me
To fetch a small pot of curd
Set from the thick milk
Of overfed buffaloes

I entered the house
Saw her fragile hands
Hard-hitting the jowar balls
Making perfect circles
Putting them on the lit hearth which
Bloated out with love
And she burnt them right enough
Before throwing them
On the pile of other rotis

I stared back in amazement
Hinting her that I had never
Seen anything like that
While she wondered about
Her daughter who had
Left the house
Early morning
To bring back some drinking water
From the river
Which was miles away


Poornima-Laxmeshwar_author-photoPoornima Laxmeshwar has authored a small poetry collection named Anything But Poetry published by Writers Workshop. Her works have appeared or are forthcoming in magazines such as Vayavya, The Aerogram, Northeast Review, Kitaab, Brown Critique, and The Stockholm Review. Her haiku have appeared in several magazines. She resides in Bangalore and works as a content writer for a living.


One Comment
  1. Archana Kulkarni #

    I feel proud of my best friend Poornima who’s growing as an author & writes beautiful poetry… I loved all her works and looking forward for many more to come… Congratulations dear & Good luck sweety… way to go girlie! 😉

    August 13, 2015