At the Temple

“And how come you are sitting still?”
“Was I? Really? Really still?”
“As still as boiling water, yes.”
“I’m meditating. Trying to.”
“Too hard you’re trying. Settle down.”
“I’m settled settled, can’t you see?”
“As settled as a land dispute.”
“Mumma! Just let me concentrate.”
“At least, you aren’t breaking things.”
“Mumma! I’m almost thirty now.”
“And past the age of breaking hearts.”
“Ignore her. Focus. Focus hard.”
“As focused as a hurricane.”
“Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.”
“And why are you observing us?”
“I’m sorry. I’m a poet. So..”
“So, you will stare at lediz, hunh?”
“Mumma! I’m not a lediz. Baah.”
“You shut your mouth and meditate.”
“Ignore her. I don’t mind your gaze.”
“And now you’re flirting while I’m here?”
“I thought you want me married off.”
“But not to good-for-nothing men.”
“Mumma! So rude of you to say.”
“Say what? He’s bald and fat and sad.”
“I’m sorry. She’s a bit like this.”
“Are you a bit like this as well?”
“How dare you! Don’t you talk to her.”
“I’ll ping you on your Instagram.”
“And you too? We are going home.”
“Afraid I’m not on Instagram.”
“Ashamed, I’m sure. We’re going home.”
“Mumma! I’m talking. Let me be.”
“Your breath’s too shallow. Go in deep.”
“You’re staring at her…Nonsense man!”
“And yes, you’re trying way too hard.”
“You come here often? Meditate?”
“Afraid today’s my final day.”
“Come off. Away from him at once!”
“I’ll pray it isn’t. See you, then.”
“I’m still afraid I won’t be here.”
“At least, you’re still. Come teach me that.”
“As still as boiling hurricanes.”
“That makes no sense.”
“And nor do we.”

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