Missing Pieces

After weeks of googling my brain for a suitable topic to blog about, this poem just popped into my mind..

I dont know whether its been worth the effort I put in overcoming the blogger's block!!!! Do leave ur comments though... :)

MISSING PIECES

She collected the pieces, Arranged them in her mind..

All a part of the bigger picture...

Picture of someone long gone...

Reduced to a potrait decked with a garland..

To be revered... and sometimes to be remembered...

The cloud over her father's eyes when she wore red

The frown over dadi's face when she puts out her left hand

Dark oval eyes she inherited.. as that of her nani..

An offhand remark, that a mere memory brings.

The tangling curls on her jet black hair,

Long fingers and short toes,

The splitting migraine she was born with,

The talent with paintbrush she grew without..

The answer is in genetics.. isn't it??

Knowing herself should get her closer to the truth...

The similarities made sense...

But then... There are the quirks...

Recipes for spicy dishes, which would never see the light...

Not if she could help it.

Amidst her wardrobe, full of plaid colours

The silk sarees carefully preserved in the box.

Bigger borders.. Brighter hues..

The faded ancestral stone in her golden ring she wore.

Geoid bangles in the locker, she never meant to wear.

She didn't feel any closer...

All she could collect was more clues.

The loose leaves of the stamp book on top of the cupboard.

The veena, discarded but preserved...

Out of place, in the long hallway. In her life.

The yellowing newspaper clips tracking Kapil's career

Carefully mounted on unbound diaries..

Pointers to the same path... yet

Pointing at different directions...

She had seen the frames from the past...

The crying toddler in her nani's arms

The smiling girl in sari, too heavy for her, in the schools's play

The proud Math grad on her convocation

The shy bride near her father, nervous but happy.. sad but...

But what...???

She tried to read more into the eyes that were staring back at her

The oval eyes seemed frozen in time.

The black and white photos were mute.

Silent spectators to what was felt... what was thought...

The more she knew, more hazy it became...

Completing the puzzle was not the goal

Understanding her mother was not a choice...

She had to pick up the pieces and move on...

But, there was always something missing...