Sixteen Days

Sixteen days have passed in pain,

Time moves slow like endless rain.

Walls still stand, but feel so bare,

Since I cannot find you there.

Morning comes, but feels so weak,

Your soft voice I still do seek.

Used to wake with gentle call,

Now there’s silence in it all.

In the kitchen, still and cold,

Lives the warmth the past once told.

Old stone mortar waits for you,

Like it knows what it must do.

Pestle rests; it does not sing,

Missing hands that life would bring.

Pressure cooker, silent, still,

Has not whistled by your will.

Washing stone has lost its cry,

Cloths lie still and left to dry.

After beats your hands once gave,

Now it rests, so cold, so grave.

Tap has learned to not let flow;

Water waits, but does not go.

Like it knows you’re not around,

So it holds its silent sound.

Well rope hangs; it does not cry,

Pulley still-no creak, no sigh.

Every corner feels this loss;

Silent hearts no words can cross.

Pills and syrups, lined in rows,

Swallowed all the healing hopes.

Bottles stand like frozen prayers,

Empty of your tender cares.

Plates you set with gentle care

Now lie waiting, empty there,

Like a song that lost its tune,

Fading far too late, too soon.

Calling “Amma” fills my chest;

Echo comes, but gives no rest-

Like a child lost in the night,

Searching still for guiding light.

By your bed I sit alone,

Touching sheets now turned to stone.

Still it feels you’re somewhere near,

In each breath, in every tear.

Your soft steps across the floor

Live inside my heart once more.

Every corner speaks your name;

Nothing here will be the same.

Pain stays silent, deep, and slow,

Like a wound that will not go-

Like the smoke when fire is done,

Lingering though loss has won.

Now I stand and slowly see

What this loss has made of me:

Like a house that’s lost its light,

I’m alone within this night.

Finally, I realize-

I am now an orphan boy;

A house stands, but without home…

A life that lost its only joy.