GRIEF Poem: RANGE ROVER FOR SALE, by Tanisha Mehta Sagoo

Classic two-door, white exterior.
Bought by a young lad before he decided he looked better with a beard.
Driven extensively across Kenya – maybe East Africa – I don’t know, he’s not here to tell me.

Range Rover for sale; moniker “Basanti”.
Speaks fluent Punjabi. All his favourite tunes embedded deep into her soul. Always had plenty of space for cassettes, and never skipped a beat (of music- about the engine, I’m not too sure).

Range Rover for sale, adorned through the years with trinkets & secrets.
A string of divine protection on the rear-view mirror, a sticker believed to be a shield on the windscreen, and the glove box hiding a mini bottle of his go-to whiskey which his mum would never see.

Range Rover for sale, carrier of a new wife, then two sons, and a daughter.
Encompassing growing pains, being & becoming. Safeguarding all the multiple identities & realities of her favourite boy- son, brother, husband, father, what a friend, what a man. Giver of way & alms. Remembered eternally.

Range Rover for sale, got shocked by his sudden absence.
Never really settled into being driven by anyone else. Countless coats of paint and coaxing were used to restore her to her former glory, but what good is a duo with just one?

Range Rover for sale.
Still sounds the same, smells the same. Close your eyes and you can see him in the driver’s seat, his favourite song on repeat, a gleam in his eyes, speaking a language only the both of them understand.

Range Rover for sale.
Maybe 22 years later, it’s finally time.