He’d promised he would take us there.
The bamboo boat was ready, flagged –
My brother let me make the flag,
A Post-it on an ice-cream stick.
He’d promised he would take us there.
On full-moon night of Kartik month,
When bamboo boats voyaged the pond
In light of rocket fireworks.
He’d promised he would take us there.
But here he slept exhausted, out.
Our mother’s fingers fireworked
Around her warning, shaking head.
He’d promised he would take us there.
But, as my brother pointed out,
The moon was here, the boat was here,
And so were rising falling waves.
He gently placed the bamboo boat
Upon our father’s moonlit paunch.
Minakhi Misra 