Russia, On Ice

My eyes closed, and I couldn't see so far,
as a fading lamp's blaze burnt out like a dead cigar,
insinuating its presence in dampened sparks of imagination,
leaking through crevices in the door left ajar.

<Party music fading in the background>

And the breath felt very warm, and soft, as they walked
and, I swayed on her shoulder and looked into the night, and talked,
as they bade farewell to the merry chatter in an uneasy calm ,
And the door of the car opened, and jammed shut with a rusty thud,
and I slept, like a child in the backseat of a car snow covered.

<And the poor old Lada choked but finally roared on>

For I was, but a child of 5, in the backseat of my car, wondering,
why the vipers of the my Lada, weren't big like the Volvo's ,
or why an antenna on my car, wasn't there after all,
or why Deepti Mohta was so beautiful, in her princess-like frock
with her one arm wrapped in ceramic, hidden under soft cloth?

<And the poor old Lada chugged and crept on>

And as it turned and glided, on the salted Moscow streets,
And the curfew sirens waled from speakers somewhere afar,
and they were my lullaby and the winter my mother, and I slept.
like a child in the backseat of his car.

<And the sirens kept resounding and lullabying me to sleep>

And the next thing I heard, were voices extremely sharp,
a woman, pleading, almost crying in amidst some commotion,
to a man in finest Russian leather, it was my mother I could see,
and from out the window, I saw a man, and he looked back at me.
"Igor, niet, leave them, leave them, look at the child, how could we ?"

<And it seemed Igor obeyed, for he lowered his Kalash, looked at me once, and left us safe>

Kartiek Agarwal

P.S. true story! :) The above is a nested photo (photo of a photo!), hence the lack of clarity.