Hollow Shell

There was no clock,
only the rustle as a lizard ran,

in those days there was no coffee either
no morning to tell from night;

she looked at the phantoms in the brain
picked the scabs of memory

the scales calcified into a shapeless mass.
Like the pebble that never belonged to the river

she sat still, meditative while the lizard moved,
veins of time bobbed so distant so faint

like in other rooms, other wonders,
someone else’s life, someone else’s love.

Day 2 – NaPoWriMo 

I post my poem early as I am on road all through the day tomorrow.  Maureen Thorson has put in her prompt for those early birds like me. She asks us to write a poem that incorporates titles of three books I have in my house. I noted down names of several of books , but have  used these three in my poem : V S Ramachandran’s ‘Phantoms In The Brain’, Daniyal Mueenuddin’s ‘In Other Rooms, Other Wonders’ and Venkatachalapthy’s ‘In Those Days There Was No Coffee’.  
V S Ramachandran is an eminent neuroscientist,  Daniyal Mueenuddin is a young and promising writer from Pakistan and Venkatachalapathy is a social historian from Chennai. These three books inhabit three different worlds, here they leave behind their stories and breathe a new meaning to my poem. Thanks Maureen for this lovely prompt. 

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