Sunday, December 09, 2007


the night is hot
because of my little one's feverish body
his slightly moist, damp skin
has raised the humidity in the bedroom
pajama bottoms pulled up till knees
sleeves rolled way above elbows
my little one is curled up in a tight ball
two pairs of eyes - anxious and red
follow his every move
till the mercury dips towards 37 degrees
I sigh, she sighs
and even a few hours later after the positive
climate change in planet of my son's body
reading lights
remain switched on
fluffed up pillows
divide unoccupied sleeping spaces
but this bed, king size et al,
remains too big for us
without the other
either it is too big
or too small...
when we first met,
when we first made love
when we had intercourse
even single beds seemed too large
we embraced without the fear of tiny aliens
getting wedged between the nooks and crannies
left out in the mass of intertwined limbs
but now we share the mattress, the pillows and the bed sheets
with our own morsels -
encountered during those fearless
adventurous nights and days.
the reading lights flicker on
not because of marital aversions
but simply because that time,
those few precious hours, minutes even
are the only times we can cherish
with our respective self.

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