[ Issue 6 / August 2013]

Father often spoke about the Mughals
their life and art and architecture,
their exquisite red stones
and the marbles of Purana Quila.

”A fort,” he said, “a great
treasure of India.” His telling of history
itself a great treasure;
puffing away at his Will Filter cigarette
telling us about Humayun, the architect.

Humayun in the desert
blowing on a handful of chaff, had whispered
holding the unwashed Akbar in his
hands “let you fame spread like this.’’

Huddled with his star maps,
peering into the telescopes
Humayun never named
a city after himself, now
resting in a nearby
tomb where Indraprastha
sleeps and earthenware
vessels survive;

My poem places my father
puffing Wills Filtered cigarettes
between his endless gaze upon his favourite site
on tireless India, and the history he loved.

Father sleeps too
remembered in my poems.

*
Sivakami Velliangiri has been published in The Little Magazine, Danse Macabre, The Indian Scholar, The New Quest and a few other online journals. The Lily Literary Review came out with an online Chap Book ‘In My Midriff.’ She has read her poems to students of the Semester–At-Sea, and the Prakriti Foundation. She is at present working on a semi autobiographical and semi fictional collection of poems. She likes working with young poets

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