Poems by Shrutee Choudhary
Emergency
I first heard sirens go off in
my brain, when I was just shy
of eight
and there was an earthquake
between my parents
the buildings collapsed
all around me, as I held
my mother's hand at 2 am
and slept at my neighbour's
dreary house
it felt like an emergency
but nobody cared
the second time, I was older
there was a curfew
around my lady parts
I couldn't look pretty
or celebrate my beauty
in front of a man
what if he did
the unimaginable
but it happened anyway
in the confines of my own home
his hand reached for places I
hadn't yet explored
it felt like an emergency
but nobody cared
especially my parents
I'm an adult now
which means, I have lost count
of the times I’ve been wronged
too many times
my entire life's blueprint
has been a coy navigation
of minefields
and I am so tired
of carrying the weights of
my femininity
a state of emergency
is a constancy
in every woman's life
and I'm afraid I will never know
a normal day
Is this the only way?
Unsolved
my father and I only talked about
matters found in books
of science and philosophy
maths and economics
weren't really my cup of tea
we spoke of astronomy and
constellations which came into
existence between us, connecting
the stars that made me
and the stars that made him
exist
then there was this great
distance, when mother and I left
I was too young to understand
the reason
so I called it dark matter
because Einstein said that
even empty space was not nothing
so we didn't speak
even in education
so our conversations remained
equations unsolved
what I didn’t know then
was that it was only temporarily
for ours was an ongoing colloquy
and in that, all else was absolved.
Shadow
5 AM brought a thunderstorm
the wind knocked at my window
I saw your shadow first, it was
so much taller
than I had remembered
but then, I was also closer
to the light
this time, I had
more fight
you inched slowly towards me
then all at once
like fear creeps in silently before
it grapples you entirely
I unlatched the door despite
being frozen, then I held onto
the corner of my bed anticipating
your arrival
the shadow kept growing taller but you
never showed up. I stayed awake
my legs pruning from being soaked in
the rainwater that just kept rising
they were my tears
I remembered what my
therapist had said — that some people
become the keeper of your traumatic experiences, your Pandora’s box
without you even realising
and they continue to live on
inside your mind, bereft of their personhood
they are metaphorical in their existence, representing everything uncomfortable and uncalled for
to me, that person has been you
for the last three years
you’ve held all my fears
all my darkness in your bare hands
those parts of my life I still do not know how to navigate through, you’ve been a keeper of them too
so when 5 AM brought a thunderstorm
it also brought you
only, it wasn’t really you.
Shrutee Choudhary is a poet, actor, and author based in Mumbai, India. She also has a passion for travelling and photography, making her all about telling stories through various mediums.