The joy of movement. Words. Food & memory.

with 5 comments

I don’t miss you.  

Your son made sure I knew you.  I knew your voice (and Thakur-ma‘s, too) as well as Mom and Dad’s before I came into this world – and its sonorousness lulled me to sleep on those few occasions when I raised my voice in colic.

There’s a recording of it – you didn’t know, and how you laughed when you realized you’d been caught in a rare moment of patience with me – reading me that book of nonsense that made no sense to you (or anyone, for that matter) – still it made us laugh.  Dad surreptitiously starting recording your reading, all of us laughing at the hilarity of a young boy’s curious dreams.  

I still listen to it, still – and you’re there.  That’s why I shouldn’t miss you. You’re here, always, as soon as I conjure you.

The only time I do is when I hear the boatman’s song – plaintive, mellow, in the language we share. And I’m reminded that no matter how closely your son resembles you – particularly in my half-waking moments, when I see your age-bent shuffle beginning emerging in his own gait – you’re really, truly not here.

Baroshekar aador meke
Bheshe elam sagor theke
Baleer toteh notun disha

Adar theke alor mesha
Batash bhara bhalo basha
Ke kandare baicho toree aral theke

Caressed with love
I drifted ashore from the sea
The sand shows a new way

The light blends with the darkness
The wind is full of love
Who are you boatman who paddles this boat, whom I cannot see?

Lyrics & translation adapted from Instant Song Lyrics


Inspired by Prompt A – Day 3 of the Scintilla project

Written by marginfades

March 16, 2012 at 12:30 pm

Posted in Writing

Tagged with , ,

5 Responses

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  1. What language is this song in? I want to learn it.


    March 16, 2012 at 9:38 pm

  2. “You’re here, always, as soon as I conjure you.” – i have people like this too, and i wonder if everybody does. beautiful writing.


    March 16, 2012 at 4:26 pm

  3. Oh, lovely!

    medea culpa

    March 16, 2012 at 4:13 pm

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