Vandana Devi

summertime musings in the winter

7 may 2014

the concrete was hot, but not too
that our cotton shirts burned up, but warm enough
to feel the coldness in our hearts melt away
when we inched towards each other, and as we did
the many apologies of the day were pointed out in the shapes
of the too white clouds in the pale blue skies, and
through the orange tang, freshly made, with not enough sugar
that we passed to and from, drinking in the
beautiful weather. the chemistry didn’t need the additional bonds
of ethyl alcohol, it had the elements of
past, present, with the salted rim of future.

he opened his mouth and i did too
but the silence was a little unbearable that day
so we opened our mouths only
to drink the not sweet tang, to breathe in the too sweet air
coupled with each other’s sweat, to talk about the shapes
we thought the clouds were making.

the disagreements, the throwing of words and things
the regret we accrued, was forgotten
leaving behind a cold on the warm day;
a cold, not of indifference but of a conclusiveness when
we realised we weren’t holding back words, there just weren’t any left
just as there wouldn’t be any roof top naps and stare offs with the sky.

it was a simple sweet summer afternoon
that had happened so many times over, never to happen again.


About the author: Vandana Devi is 20 years old. She is from the little state of Kerala in the big country of India, currently doing her 2nd year of Integrated Masters in Humanities and Social Sciences. Over the years, she has been fed Kerala rice, while watching Bollywood movies, while reading and watching American things, while being taught to write in British English. The amalgamation of these things makes her who she is today and she writes because she is no good at talking. She has been published in the Underscore Review and wishes to have her own book someday soon.