It was two for tea and tea for two Both meeting after a decade or two Friends of old, kins of the heart Separated by time and circumstance Chatter and laugh over tea for two
Tea for two and two for tea Neighbours for a year, kindred souls for twenty-three They’d seen each other through thick and thin Loving Kintsugi* mending walls where they’d grown thin Catch up over two for tea
It was two for tea and tea for two From working together their friendship grew They had rejoiced in one another’s highs Had held each other’s hands in trying times Rendezvous over tea for two
Tea for two and two for tea The sister and the brother sit quietly The coolness of bruised hearts lies around The air is rent with empty sounds As they try to build bridges over two for tea
It is usually two for tea and tea for two That brings hearts together, both the sunny and the blue Loving ones forge ever joyful memories Aching ones for a while find some peace When they come together over tea for two.
* Kintsugi: The Japanese art of putting broken pottery pieces back together with gold — built on the idea that in embracing flaws and imperfections, you can create an even stronger, more beautiful piece of art.
The rain is falling in sheets upon sheets Jumping into puddles, skipping over feet Performing a symphony as it flows Reaching a crescendo down the street Where whirlwind eddies and the sidewalk meet
The koi in the pond in the building know Something is up, they flicker and jump Out of the water again and again But the ripples on the surface aren’t enough To join in the play of the skies above
They don’t feel the glorious downpour Charge into their silent world thrumming They swim up and down around and around Waiting, waiting expecting something The sensory pleasure of nature dancing
But the koi will float in agitated oblivion To the playful frolic of the monsoon sky As it cavorts with all of earth’s creatures But not with the pond and not with the koi Our faithful tributes to a world gone awry.
I was in a hurry, in a mad rush The morning was crazy, yes one of those The alarm had belted shrilly out But I was dead to the world, comatose
Dreaming of wishes being lattes and Bookers Until the clock struck ten and then I threw off the duvet, leaped out of bed Limbs all awry like a headless chicken
Here’s a little aside: when I’m stressed My hair also declares a mutiny Acts up like it’s the raging heroine Of its very own show on prime time telly
And so it was in this agitation That I knocked my elbow on the door I cursed like a sailor who’s had too much ale-er Deliriously, frenziedly I swore
I vented as much as a random string Of choice expletives can enable The rest of the rage I swallowed away As virtuously as I was able
Then the ultimate decimation came to pass I stubbed my wretched left little toe What chanced to happen in the heat of my passion You really wouldn’t want to know
Suffice it to say that on that day The angels filling in my Wicked Gal page With brimstone, hellfire, the sinfulness of ire Had a field day, ‘twas their advantage
And so ‘twixt my shoulders and my feet now A funny bone doesn’t exist at all I try to be sweet-talking, kind and good Until the next time I slam, stub or fall.
They look at each other Awkwardly It’s been thirty five years Since they’d last seen each other Blood has flowed thinner, starker than water For the two sisters Now standing together
They sit down It’s in the younger one’s home The older one perches on her seat Hands clasped around her knees Knees bunched together awkwardly
The younger one makes the tea The steaming, billowing pour Softening, mollifying the tension That has stretched like taut skin Raw, painful, blue-complexioned On the surface of the atmosphere
The older one reaches for the milk She pours it into her cup of tea Hesitates and looks at her Wondering if she still drinks it The same way she did before
The younger one nods, smiles ever so faintly She puts the sugar in Looks at the older one inquiringly No, she didn’t have sugar in her tea From each other, they both look away At the steaming cups on the tray
The brews in the cups Swirl for a while Spin and beguile Then come to rest Pulling a film of whey and casein Around their hearts Hiding away from the scene Hiding away from the awkwardness
“Do you remember -“ “Do you remember -“ “You used to love the milk skin on the tea” “I used to love the milk skin on my tea”
They look at each other At last they laugh Sweet-awkwardly Eyes moist, hearts beating fast The tension is torn away Finally In the gush of warmth From the tea From she looking at her From her looking back smilingly
The older one looks at her cup The smile still playing on her lips She picks up her spoon To remove the cream Her sister never had it Today she wouldn’t too
The younger one looks at her cup Gazing down at the membrane Floating in the milky brew She picks up her cup Her sister always had it Today she would too.
She steps into the car Its gleaming surfaces Adorned with gladioli and motia* She’s the bride tonight Garlands also lovingly Entwine in her hair Their fragrance filling The nighttime air Eyes bright Face shining with expectation She glances behind her Just for a moment One last time At that spot where she stood Leaving behind her childhood Marking the end of her maidenhood She smiles Nostalgia now sits there Young, hopeful and light Eyes bright Face shining with expectation Waiting to fill the space That has been so tenderly placed Into her sacred embrace.
Mahvash Mohtadullah 