A shawl over the backrest,
A fire ready to light
A book on the table,
On the chair my Grandma’d wait.

As I returned from my play
She’d spring up with delight
And serve hot supper
And tell stories into the night.

I grew up under her care
And constant supervision.
Back then all I wished for
Was to realize my ambition.

So I spread my wings
And ran away
Leaving back the meadows
And my Grandma astray.

I wanted to achieve
I wanted a life
Without grudge and redemption
I started my strife.

I forgot my Grandma
Now crippled to the knee
For now my entire life
Was just about me.

I thought I’d achieved
Everything I’d craved
Yet at night,
No tear would be saved.

I looked back longingly
At those nostalgic days of yore
Of time with my Grandma
I yearned for more.

So ten years later
I trudge up the meadow
Quickening my pace
As I reach my Grandma’s bungalow.

A shawl over the backrest,
A fire ready to light
A book on the table,
On the chair – A void.

Anusha Srikanth, PhD
MPI, Tuebingen, Germany

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