in my earliest memories a neightbour takes / a glance at my grandfather’s house / remarks at how green it is / my grandfather has a green thumb / the plants thrived with him / my grandmother talks about how in the ages past ripe mangoes fell of the trees / children hurrying to gather them all / they say now some trees flower late / fruit even later / back then the kanikonna would flower in time for vishu and the jackfruits would be over by monsoon / and on some days i am grateful the jackfruit fruits for longer so that i can taste its delectable flesh even if i’m late in my
homecoming / on other days the rains flood the place and ravages everything / leaving / only tattered bits behind
i have only ever travelled with my family to the mountains which are india’s link with madagascar [i]/ i can recall graves and dry land and cacao trees with boards of “do not pluck cacao seeds” / and ponds / and drinking water off the stream, the forest is so delectable and lovely i can taste the loveliness in my mouth when i am under its canopy / under its care / and there i am protected and safe and the wind howls and i know it might flood again but / for now i hold the peace of that moment and everything is alright
tomorrow it will not be the same / the forests with lianas curling around its branches will be razed / and there might be less moss and less green and everything will be gone / somedays i want to curl up in my bed and weep / i will weep over my non-human kin i never got to know / take a turn in the forest and be awed at the sight of something i wouldn’t have encountered before / i would say hello to the new thing but now the world is burying so many creatures in its stratified layers and i won’t have the chance to meet them all / for a moment the weight is too heavy to bear and i want to say hi / and / i want to breathe but it comes out as a cry / a choked sob / and i realize / i’m encased in soil
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