Photo by Arshi Zama |
What Fever does
A fever
nips speeding time
Awakens
the body to the reality of now
Heat
raging inside and out
Limbs
constricting
Forehead
throbbing
Eyes
watering
Everything
hurting
Ask for forgiveness, Ella says
I close
my heavy eyelids and
Seek
forgiveness from the universe
For
mistakes that I have committed knowingly and unknowingly
For
thoughtless words that I have uttered
For
expectations that I couldn’t meet
For
hearts that I have bruised
I open
my eyes and nod
Ella
nods back
We smile
even as our eyes are brimming
Two days
later, when I am up and about and hopping in the sun
I call
Ella to say thanks and we get talking about the benevolence of fevers
How they
make us humble compassionate kind
Grateful
loving amicable
Overhead
dragonflies are gliding by
Their
sunlit wings glittering
I
crinkle my eyes and jump up to touch their trail of light
Iridescent
colors set my hand ablaze
I gaze
at it and gasp
Who
could have known that in leaving, the fever would present me with a
Dazzling
new dream
That’s a Friend
When you meet a good person, you immediately let your guard down, Ella says intently. I try to think of the good people in my life. I am still thinking when she
rambles on. A good person never puts you on the defensive, a good person knows what to say and when, she says. I am still trying to recall the good people that I have
encountered. A good person makes excuses for your lapses and tells you not to be hard on yourself. A good person knows when you are sad and tries to make you smile,
she says with emphasis. Suddenly I jerk and stop thinking. That’s not a good person, that’s a friend, I say. Ella waves her hand impatiently. First there is a “becoming
stage” when all that there is - is a good person. Later, there can be a friendship, she says. She waves her hand again as though to say that I know nothing. I think of my
few friends and step up to take my turn at waving the hand. A friend is a friend even before you’ve met, a friend doesn’t have to become, a friend simply is, I say.
Too much of anything good
I wait for rain, pray for it. Rain will drive the drought away, nurture fields and dreams, sprout hopes and crops and laughter. I see rain birds hopping, I can smell rain too,
a lot of it. Ella tells me that things are best wished for in moderation, too much of anything good turns atrocious like too much emotion, too much trust, too
much love. I agree not. It’s raining now. Faraway fields dance to rain and I want to dance, too, but my mind begins to worry for the tall eucalyptuses that grow along the
old road that leads up to my house. Rain-drenched soil will loosen their roots, send them tumbling down. Darn that Ella. She doesn’t have to be always right.
A strong tree will endure. I’d rather love too much or not at all.
Bio: Simrita Dhir is a California-based academic and novelist. She is a Duke of Edinburgh Gold Standard Awardee and the author of the critically acclaimed historical novel The Rainbow Acres. She seeks meaning in fever, friendship and love. Ella, who, figures in all three poems, is at once a friend, critic and mentor.
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