It has been a while since I have thought
of myself as a child.
Of someone clouded in innocence and unbridled joy.
Of a time when I felt wanted, not felt, like a toy.
A toy loved and not used.
The memories seep through like sunlight
through a curtain in my grandmother’s house
in summer.
Waking me from my slumber, from my abyss of nothingness.
My grandmother kisses my forehead and I am happy.
The last day of summer arrives sooner than I can comprehend
And I hug her a little tighter.
The prospect of seeing my friends makes my gloom a little brighter.
My mother looks at me wistfully,
“Where did my baby go?” she laments. If only she knew,
I am still hers.
Somewhere inside of me, I know I am that child.
That child with oiled hair and a gap-toothed small.
even though it has been a while,
Since I have been her.
In the late afternoons, I lie next to my mother
And sleep again like I used to,
I will wake up soon but for now,
I will dream of candy and ice golas,
And a playground. I will dream of my
Grandmothers house
And my best friend when I was six.
I do not know where she is now,
Nor when, why, and how,
She managed to slip away.
I am still that child, it really does seem,
So just like children should, I will continue to dream.
-Anoushka Komandur, XII-B